Chapter 24: C24. I'm Constantine
###### C24. I'm Constantine
I bank on the Devil's greed, yet he's learned to exercise caution around me. But I don't think *it*'ll hold out much longer. I need him to act now.
The First of the Fallen's still looking at the bubble in front of him. The twitch of his fingers, and the dilation of his red pupils says it all. He's a greedy bastard and he wants it: Zatanna's soul. So what's keeping him from taking it? Even when he's got literal drool dripping from his mouth?
Fear more than strategy?
Fooled him twice. Shame on him for that. But the third's gonna get him severely punished. Question probably running through his mind is whether I'm here to get him that third time by offering up Zatanna's soul.
"It's been forever since I last heard someone speak Enochian," he finally speaks, his voice full of caution. "The words could have changed in that time."
My muscles tense and convulse wildly. I struggle not to let my expression falter. I think up something cleverly deflective before he can read deeper into it. "All angels are born with the same tongue. There are no Enochian classes in the Silver City, and that leaves little room for evolution."
"Foolish mortal. To speak like you know of ethereal affairs is an insult to both Heaven and Hell," the First snaps.
"You're right. I know naught," I relax a bit. "But you're one half of the Presence himself. Tell me if I'm wrong."
The First snorts and glares at me, "That aside," he brushes the suspicion off, "the marks on your body, how did you get them?"
"Why? Find anything you fancy?" I don't want this to drag on, but I can't show any signs of suspicion. Show that I want him to take the soul ASAP, and it'll be crystal clear I'm tricking him. He's testing my patience, waiting for me to hasten the deal, then he'll be sure I'm tricking him.
"My sigil for starters... I'd like it removed." the First replies with a raw, bubbling tone.
"Can't do that mate. You'll have to take it up with HR," I make a snarky remark, but the First ignores it. He's learned the value of patience since any last encounter I can recall. More like he's mimicking Lucifer's personal charm. It's greatly frustrating.
"But it's not just demon signs, is it?" he adds as he scans my expression. "You've got angels and forbidden spells at your command, Hellblazer. You could be using overwhelming power right now, but something must be stopping you from tapping into those reserves, isn't it."
My back crawls as if guilted by his remark. Hellblazer sign went off for god-knows-why. Second time it's done so in Hell, but I can't say it's inconvenienced me just yet. Doesn't mean I don't want answers concerning that, before it's too late.
"Only thing stopping me is you. From getting my bloody wings and storming off of this place," I snap. "Do we have a deal, or not? If you're having second thoughts, maybe I should return my friend's soul back to hers before it grows cold and gets reaped by Hades."
"A loss we both can't take," I add.
"Very well," the First says with a tone of finality. "We have a deal."
He stretches his hands and grabs the bubble, like a child grabbing back their toy. It flickers rapidly and inconsistently in his hands, and I hold my breath for half a moment, praying it doesn't go off. *Not yet, Zee*.
On the contrary, the First reads it a sign of Zatanna's value.
"She's a powerful one this one," he says as he keeps a sharp eye at the soul. "Worth millions of souls. I'll keep her body too."
"Not a chance!" I snap.
He looks at me and says, "you may have the wings."
With a proud, sly grin, he adds, "but they were never mine to give, were they?"
Mammon steps forward and other demons, all of them this time, shuffle as if they're about to challenge me.
Devil thinks he's tricked me, hasn't he?
I scoff and smirk.
"All outnumbered, are yer?" Abnegazar from the Demons Three looks particularly thrilled and happy.
"Time ya pay up for what ya did, Constantine," Ghast is, nonetheless, excited. And Rath is cracking his knuckles.
"Mnhh... A demon's word is binding," Mammon chuckles. "By getting you an invite to this auction, I fulfilled my end, and you yours. You no longer have any ties to Mammon Investments. Guess it's really 'time's up' for you, Hellblazer." A gold coin dances on his fingers, and in a moment, more are falling down the arena like a glitter shower. "No coming out of hell for you."
Gently, I place Zatanna's body down and stand straight, arching my back a little and putting my hands trench coat side pocket. I look relaxed. Betraying anything that's going on in my mind.
"Do you know why it's, the Hellblazer?" I post the question with an eerily calm voice, not to anyone in particular. The shuffling stops and the falling gold coins halt. The crowd is slightly expectant.
"It's because..." I pause for effect, measuring my voice as I speak. "I can come to Hell and leave with only a few scars."
"Oi," Abnegazar gives his brother's a worried glance, a sense of premonition washing over him.
"Better yet, it's because..." my eyes dance around the crowd and settle on the bubble the First's still holding, studying it with the curiosity of a scientist. "I can burn down Hell itself. So, I suggest you sorry sods start runnin' before it's too late."
The Demons Three are the first to react. They don't stick around to find out whether I'm bluffing or not. They run away, out of the Gutters. Put the fear of God into them, I did.
"It's just a bluff... What if... But... bested Blight... tricked Nergal..." the rest break into hushed whispers, mostly Hellions. The less intelligent like Shamblers are waiting for orders and Mammon's giving me that disgruntled look. Even he's unsure if I'm about to pull a deadly trick that could mean his end.
The collective effect, however is the stench of Sulphur becoming much much more repulsive as the fear surges from most demons. Meanwhile, I'm counting the seconds and hoping against hope that *it*'ll hold out a little longer for this demons to decide.
"Blight's out, Neron's too proud to return, Nergal's otherwise preoccupied, the First's withheld, and as the last challenger, I don't like getting my hands dirty," Mammon says, thinking proactively as he searches for a sign of deceit in my eyes. "The wings are yours, for Eight Billion Souls. To be paid in a span of one year."
"Wise choice," I say in a less dangerous tone. Leaning to grab Zatanna's body and go for the wings, Mammon binds her to the ground with gold shackles.
"Her body stays," Mammon demands. "Insurance policy."
I don't argue. I walk all the way up to the auctioneer's stage and give Lucifer's wings a long hard stare. They are legit. That much I can tell by feeling their silver-coloured feathers. But something about them is incomplete. There's no shred of magic radiating from them.
No one threatens. No one attacks, bar for the sounds of struggle between Nergal and Fate. Everybody stays still, holds their breath, until I fit them and attach them to my back through a binding spell. I feel nothing, except for the added weight that strains my back. I can't even *feel* or move them!
A moment stretches further, then the First breaks the silence.
"Tchi!" he laughs cruelly. The white bubble still dancing on his hands. "You've paid a high price for those wings. Don't you know how to use them?"
I fall down on one knee, the wings getting heavier to balance.
"Can't you flap them?" the First mocks, rising to demonstrate. "Like this?"
Demons laugh, their tension eased. I fall down on all fours, the wings get heavier and heavier with crashing weight.
"Oh? No one told you?" the First continues to taunt in an attempt to fill me with dread. "The consequence of trying to outshine the Morning Star?"
"Not even Lucifer could fit them after he was cast out," the First revels as my face kisses the acidic soil of Hell. "And guess what? No angel was worthy enough to succeed him."
I haven't been totally caught off-guard though. Thought something was off for Lucifer's original wings to appear at a place like this. But it doesn't mean I won't make them work. After all, I've gotten this far, haven't I?
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