John goes to the tattoo parlor. The night is dark, stormy, and windy. John’s hair brushes against his face as he steps inside. The parlor holds a neon LED lights spell: 

 TATTOO 

On a window to the entrance is the printed colors of gray on the glass. The design is of a gray stroke over the word: 

OPEN

To the bottom of this design is the logo:

SABOTAGE  TATTOOS 

At the center of the logo, the letters are small, but as you read them to the extremities, the letters get larger.

Another is an LED-lit green rectangle surrounding another LED light. This LED light is the open sign with bold red letters spell: 

OPEN. 

It is surrounded by blue neon lights. When John walks in, he asks for a tattoo. Though a common practice, tattoo prints are still a dangerous and invasive procedure that can only be performed by qualified specialists. There are several tattoo parlors in Los Angeles that offer a variety of different tattoos. 

John waves hello to the artist, saying, “Viky, spray as ever. Good to see you.”

John walks to Viky’s work desk table. His table holds several computer screens. On the screens are various paper drawings pinned on them. Behind the table is a kitchen. It holds several compartments. The compartments each have their own knobs. The kitchen is white, although it looks pink because of the red Line LED light above it. Behind Viky’s desk on a kitchen cabinet is a bright neon LED poster with a purple monkey on it. The drawing is of a gorilla. On the bottom are the words: 

SPUNKY

MONKEY

Behind the computers, mounted on the fridge is a dark red poster. It has the drawing of two fists like a person does when he flies. Two fists in front of his face. To the top of the poster, it says in bold blue letters:

THIS YEAR

Viky collects several trophies on his table. He also holds different machinery on his table. There are more trophies on the shelves above his head. These shelves are fixed on the cabinets of the kitchen. One of the shelves holds a Sig P229 Elite 9 Millimeter handgun. A pecan white drawing paper is on the far end of the work desktop. A mobile calculator also lays on the desk.

Viky tells John, “Good to see you, Constantine. To what do I owe the pleasure today?”

John explains, “I’m looking to get a tattoo of a Christian cross on my back. I already have a large tat on my back, but I'm looking to replace it. Remove the one I already have.”

Viky laughs, telling John, “Really? A religious cross. Typical of you, demon slayer.”

Viky gets up and John follows his footsteps. Viky leads John into the facial bed and tattoo chair.  There are six UV surgical lamps hung on the ceiling. Just above the workstation. 

John tells him, “I'm sorry. I need a wooden chair or a stool. It’s for my back, your fancy work bed won't work.”

Viky tells Constantine, chuckling, “Oh, sorry, I guess I just got used to doing so many front tats.”

John tells the artist, “I’ll pay you when the job is done.”

John sees Viky move his wheeled stool to his left side. He stands up, brings John the chair, then sits back down in his own chair.

John undresses his top, leaving his $200 dress shirt unbuttoned. He keeps his dress shirt on. He turns the chair backward. The back of the chair facing his chest. John sits on it. He flips his shirt down, revealing his upper back. 

The tattoo artist begins laser cutting the ink off of his skin. The laser is set to strike pigments that match your ink coloring. The laser zaps the ink particles. The heat splits the ink particles into smaller pieces. The speed causes part of the ink particles to remain cool. The opposing heat and cold push the particles apart. Leaving scarred tissue. The laser does this with high-intensity light beams which fragment the tattoo’s color pigment so that it can be absorbed by the body and eliminated. Viky uses several mirrors to get the job done. He stands lowering a circular surgeon mirror to John’s front, allowing him to see the process. Once the removal of the ink is complete, Viky begins working on his art piece. Tattooing involves getting the ink deeper into the skin than the outermost layer that humans shed off. John gets a tattoo of a catholic cross on his back. Between his shoulder blades. The ink needle pen loaded with dye hurts as it is printed on John’s skin. The needle has a frequency of 50 to 3,000 times per minute. The needles punch in the epidermis, allowing ink to seep into the dermis of the body. John screams in agony. Pain causes injury to the skin that alerts macrophages to eat the remaining dye. Some of these macrophages stay onto the skin, sull of ink. This makes tattoos permanent. When the inking is complete, John rolls his shirt back into himself. He stands up and takes his coat to begin dressing. 

John compliments the tattoo artist. “Vik, that’s not bad,” John Constantine says as he looks at the black inked cross on his back. 

“That’ll be $163, John.”

John hands him his credit card. The tattoo artist scans the card, obtaining the money on the register machine. 

“Thanks again, Vik. You're the one that got me my archangel sigil tattoos.”

John leaves the tattoo parlor. He closes the door and heads home. He still ponders why he saw  The First in hell if the devil killed him. It makes no sense. John walks on the sidewalk, saying, “Why, it makes no sense.”

John walks over to a bar, El Michoacan Bar. The logo is in golden letters and the gold banner cartoon drawing under the title says:

RESTAURANT & BAR

The room is black as the night sky usually is. There are no abundant lights in the bar, so no bright yellow sunny lighting. The walls are not painted colorfully and it is unconcerned with minor reception. The lights are neon green similar to glow sticks. Are organized into the corners of the bar table. To the top on the roof is posted an array of lined up studio LED moving headlights shining on the tables. Numerous alcoholic beverages are laid on the customer's hands. There is a pool table section to the right of the room. Where large truck drivers play, exhibiting their skills with the pool stick and the rules to the game. They have their trivial matches on the position and the trajectory of the cue ball. Metal stools with black leather sitting. In the front of the bar is an American flag of the LA Rams football team and to the bottom of it: The LA Raiders. John sits down on one of the stools. He asks for different brands of beer. The drink soothes his demand for nicotine and his basic desire to get a buzz. He drinks a couple of Heinekens, Grolsch, and Geneva. The bartender tells John to ease up on the beer, but John just gives him the bird. He pays the bartender as a fair-haired girl turns to him and flirts. John turns around, facing away from her as he enjoys his beer. He leaves the dollars on the napkin when he leaves out the door. If there is one thing John likes is going home or to the bar to drink. One drink after another surely calms your nerves. Seeing a black creature from the shadows spooks the daylights out of him. But John knows how to calm down with his drinking. With his steady mind a bit high, John walks out the outskirts of LA, the weather cold and gray as ever. It always is here in Los Angeles. The freezing of it is bound to create snowfall, yet it never does. Cold enough to attach to your personality, like an ameba. Your teeth are shaking and your body slowly registers your brain’s commands to move. That’s why everybody here is bound to get rowdy when other people have their misfortunes. Like taking pride when other people cock up. All in a fate of settling with the cold.  

Blackbirds gather together in the sky. They migrate together. He looks up at the sky seeing something odd about it. He hovers a palm over his eye to block the sun from his eyes. John notices a pigeon who is not flocking with the blackbirds in the sky but flies alone. Free from its group. It poops white on John’s coat. John looks at the feces, then glances up at the pigeon. He is disgruntled over the fact. He raises his hand, scrubbing the poop off of his shoulder. He shakes his hand around, getting the poop off. He looks back up at the bird. The bird coos. That which is similar to doves, so people can expect to hear a cooing similar to a dove. This is a small subtle cooing sound. In most cases, the pigeon cooing is a mating call. However, in this case, it starts cooing at John, belligerently. John looks at the bird, confused, narrowing his eyes. The pigeon plunges into John’s chest, throwing him back.

The pigeon transforms into the pedophile, a malevolent shapeshifter. 

“You again,” John says.

The pedophile towers over John, who was thrown back to the sidewalk floor. 

“You’re going to fight me in broad daylight,” John says.

“Sure, I escaped from prison, b*tch,” With that, the shapeshifter kicks John, but John rolls to the side, dodging the attack. 

John drags his body back, and the shapeshifter bumps him to the ground again. John stumbles up, with difficulty. 

The shapeshifter morphed into the rapist only before turning into The First. The First, who died from having his heart struck out of his insides. The First morphs into Father Hennessey, the priest from 2005. The one with a drinking problem. 

Father Hennessey taunts John Constantine, saying, “You have sinned! Repent! It’s okay, I dissolve you of your sins!” Hennessey then says like he’s ordering food from the menu at a restaurant, “That'll be one Hail Mary and one Our Father also known as Lord’s prayer,” Then he just plainly says mockingly, “The fastest way to God is to go about the church every Sunday into Sabbath prayer!”

Father Hennessey morphs back into the shapeshifter pedophile. He laughs in John Constantine’s face. Spit flies everywhere. 

John punches him. The rapist’s jaw dislocates. So the shapeshifter manifests into a mirror image of John. The copycat smiles at his other twin, irritating John. The copycat places a hand on his chin, snapping it back in place. 

The copycat throws jabs at John, telling him, “Why're you hitting yourself? Why’re you hitting yourself? Why’re you hitting yourself?”

John slam kicks the other John, yelling, “Enough!”

John throws cross boomerangs at the double. Then he throws holy water ampoules. Then he reaches for his coat: a Christian cross with the end sharpened like a blade. He stabs the shapeshifter, screaming at him, “What are you!”

“I don't know, but I feel like I’m not a half-breed or a Demon. Maybe I’m a new breed of race. Maybe the bible has to write a new chapter for me.” As he says this the pedophile transforms back to his original form. 

John twists the Christian cross blade and sinks it deeper into the creature’s torso. John pushes it all the way in, grunting. The blade goes through the upper level of the malevolent monster’s spine. 

The rapist’s last words are, “Aoourrgh, You are an excellent exorcist. John Constantine.”

The shapeshifter falls to his knees, losing control over his hip and his legs. The rapist closes his eyes, falls back. John pulls the cross from the creature’s body. The shapeshifter opens his eyes again, and his body dies, as his expression-filled eyes cease to be and turn into lifeless sockets with tissue.  

John looks down at the corpse replying, “Well, maybe you’re the third otherworldly thing I’ve come across this week. Who knows? Maybe you're a half-breed who thinks of himself as something more. Or a demon who can shapeshift.”

John lets the body decay as he steps away from it. He takes his cell phone out, dialing 911. 

“Yeah, hello, I’d like to report a murder. 108 Rosecrans Avenue. Alright, thank you, yeah.”

John walks out of the frame of the scene. His feet are striding. As he paces on the sidewalk, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, standing up straight. The camera sees him walk away as he takes out a piece of chewing gum from his gum set. He closes the case and places it in his brown coat pocket. John pops the gum into his mouth. 

Emma wakes up from her coma bed. Her blankets and her bedsheets hug the girl's legs. Two stuffed animals lay beside her as comfort. Her father and mother are also there to support her. They were waiting by her side as she lay comatose. Amma hugs her mom and dad as they cry how worried they were about her.

“Mom, Dad?”

“Oh, we worried so much about you, sweetheart,” the mother says. 

The father adds, “First you got lost with your Halloween friend, then you went into a coma. We didn’t know what to do, but we’re glad you’re back.”

John Constantine says in voice-over narration: 

The devil weighs upon our soul, but the LORD provides with goodness and mercy. What comes through to earth is the LORD, reigning upon us all, watching and judging our life choices as he decides if we descend to hell or rise to the infinite kingdom of heaven. 

The Second of the Fallen is a demon of enough power to rival The First of the Fallen and The Third of the Fallen as a ruling triumvirate of Hell. Its faceless appearance masks its identity. It lurks in the blackness of the depths of the Void. Appearing everywhere darkness lives. A ripple in time, as the surroundings in Hell, take longer to occur than on earth. A lifetime in Hell could amount to just a few hours on Earth. Five minutes in Hell is a lifetime. However, in the void, time is the same. But when a human soul enters, a soul footprint is left at its door. The Second of the Fallen can trace it and make it harder for a human to go to Hell or back to Heaven when he or she dies.

The Second of the Fallen has a personality that is generally malicious but largely measured; it was the one who counseled caution over the subject of Constantine's soul, arguing that to fight over it would risk weakening Hell to the point that Heaven would be able to invade and take over. It would be the War on Heaven but in Hell all over again. Lucifer and his angels did not want to amount to this. They already lost an army of mindful souls they could have taken over. With that loss, Lucifer challenges the Second of the Fallen to a rival match. A new deal. A contract. A scroll that can be rolled up and rolled out to read its contents. On the metal rod of the paper is a thin pried wire, where an individual can cut their thumbs in order to sign the paperwork in blood. Lucifer and the Second of the Fallen shake their hands on the agreement. Lucifer snaps his fingers, saying “Done,” referring to the contact. The contract explains: whoever can collect John Constantine’s soul can obtain rule over all the realms, including God’s. The LORD sees what Lucifer and the Second of the Fallen are planning. Yet, God, because he is all-knowing and all-powerful, lets them do as they wish. The LORD then proceeds to make divine protection over Constantine’s life, essentially giving him a protection amulet. A metaphorical one that can save John’s life from this threat. Essentially, the LORD turns the tables of the malevolent fallen angels of Lucifer and the Second of the Fallen. Meanwhile, because this is in sole discretion, John is unbeknownst to this deal. He is also unaware of what the LORD did for him in order to help his cause. Lucifer and his minions rise unfortunately and are sent through massive fiery portals in different states of the world. Their plan is in session. All the half-breeds and demons hide as they wait for John Constantine to move his chess pieces. To lure him in their ruse. 

End of voice-over narration.

John sees a cell bed at the side of the room. He rushes to it. He sees the bed is white with sheets thrown on top, lackadaisically. He looks about the room, the walls are dark grey. There is a solitary light bulb that only casts light an inch to its surrounding. John can barely see his one pals as he holds them to his face with this lighting. John hears a groan to the other half of the cell. A shaggy, gray-haired, and bearded man lays on his side of the cell. On his bed. 

John recognizes the voice. 

“Who are you?” John asks.

The man groans

“Do I know you?”

There’s a nervous laugh from the person. The man tells John, “You killed the boy! You did Mammon send him flying up and down a room’s ceiling and tile floor of the psychiatric hospital where Isabel was sent and died.”

“How the Hell do you know that?”

“I know you, John. I know because I conjured up Chas Kramer’s angelical spirit and I talked to him.”

“What?” John says in shock. 

The captive turns to face John and John sees it is in fact, Chas Kramer himself, in the flesh. 

“CHAS!”

“Don’t worry, I'm still dead. This is me as an angel. Chas lifts up his wings, for John to see. They are white and populated with feathers. Chas flutters his wings to John. 

John nods, saying, “I see.”

Chas tells John, “Yes, Chas, It’s me, John. I’ve shown up to tell you that this battle is almost done. You can live. You will live. You just have to keep going. Keep pushing. I know why you pushed me aside John It was because you thought I was youthful and reckless. But I know the truth John, I know the truth. I've been there running with the angels up in heaven, and I've seen the holy trinity. God, Jesus, the holy spirit. All of it. Angels are real John. I always believed in you, but now it’s time for you to believe in yourself, John. You have to. I believe in John Constantine. Look, the worst thing that can happen, you just die and you’ll go to heaven. I know it. The LORD told me so. You don't have to prove to the devil anymore. You did the right thing sacrificing yourself for Isabel in 2005, I know you’ll do the right thing again, John.”

Chas manifests back into heaven, as he is evaporated out of the cell. His white pants, beige body, and white wings are absorbed into the heavenly light again. Chas flies into the bright light blue skies of the dawn of Heaven. Where the days are always sunny, never dim, and the euphoria never sleeps. 

John is greeted by the five demons who barge into the steel doors of the holding cell. They step closer to John, looking at him aberrantly. John is tortured by the demons. They punch him in the face and it hurts. He feels weak under the five demons raining blows to the head. The parasitical demon head butts John, leaving his nose bloody, dripping red. Some fall into John’s black beard. 

“Come here, I have to tell you something Lucifer told me.”

The demon leans in to hear John. Its skull is close to John. Constantine bites into the bone of the demon. It yells in pain. It backs itself away from John. The other four demons take turns punching John’s cheeks. His face is swollen and purple from the bruises. John’s arms feel stiff. He is immobile. Two demons hold his arms down and wrap them into chained shackle cuffs. 

The Demons explain, “You are that famous demon hunter of the dark, mystic, and occultist arts: Constantine. You put my pals in hell, Exorcist!” 

“Oh, so this is payback?” John argues, “Well, you better get your best shot, *sshole!”

With that, John has pushed around and beaten up. The demons take turns taking sides of John’s body One claw at John’s broken ribs, another punches his face, another kicks his stomach, and yet another breaks his arms. The LORD’s amulet cures John of his endorsements. John yelps in pain. This is like the torture in Hell, where the punished get their body healed magically by Lucifer after torture. After a wiping, bruising, drowning, burning, shocking, beating, or scalping and what have you. Only to heal magically for the process to repeat over and over. John is literally enduring Hell today. A taste of what is to come if he proves himself worthy to descend into Hell. For Lucifer. John pushes the demons out away from him with his legs. Two go falling out the window of the holding cell. A set of steel poles. The demons are scrawny enough to fit through them. As demons look like anorexic or wasting humans, with alien-shaped skulls. This demon falls off the seven-story concrete and brick building into the asphalt floor, emerging his skull. John swings the chair to the right, falling to the concrete cell floor. The three residing demon skeletons kick John in the stomach. He reaches for his coat pocket. He can’t reach it. Hoping to find his Christian cross blade. No use. John shakes the chair harder. A wooden leg breaks. John reaches for it. He loudly scratches the chair over the broken wooden leg. John’s hand clenches it. He roughly scratches the zip tie, tearing it. The zip tie finally breaks and John releases himself from the chair’s boundaries. John Holds up his wooden stick and stabs one with it. He takes out his dragon’s breath and Christian cross knife and stabs a second demon. The third demon is burned alive by the machine of the Dragon’s breath. A flame thrower device. Obtained by slaying a dragon. The one Beeman showed John at the beginning of his case with Angela Dodson. The last demon is taken back by the fight and runs away. These demons are not called by the listed numbers. They are regular demon soldiers. This is just in order of John assaulting them. 

John looks at the demon who flees. John screams at the demon with self-conceit, “Yeah, You better run! Who’s next! I’m an LA specialist Ashgar slayer. A detective occultist of the dark arts! I hate demons like Cleavers, Half-Breeds like Balthazar, fallen angels like the First and the Third! Oh, yeah, and f*ck Lucifer!”

John walks over to the barred window of the holding cell. He looks down at the demons. Demon's blood forms around their brainless heads. He nods in approval of the demon’s death. John pops open his plastic box of gum tablets. He takes one in his mouth, chewing it, savoring every bite, trying to let go of nicotine. He is overrun by an urge to smoke, his mouth waters as he craves a smoke. He looks at his cigarette cardboard box. He stares at it. He decides against it and throws the box out the window. John braces for the door. He uses the Dragon’s breath to burn the door’s steel barrier. The heat melts the bolts and sheets that create it. John steps under the melting steel. He looks out into the hallways of a castle. He walks into the labyrinth of hallways. Each is more complicated than the rest. John dashes into the hallways, taking turns trying to figure out where the exit is located. He keeps running, now seeing light bulbs hanging in ceilings, hallways, doors, and rooms. He thinks maybe he is in a castle in Los Angeles. But then he remembers: No. That can’t be because Los Angeles doesn't house castles and towers like the UK does. He keeps running. In one hallway he reaches the end of it to see the door in front of him open. Demon guards rush at him, trying to stop his efforts to escape from the castle. John exchanges uppercuts and he lets loose, he escapes their grip. He dashes on. John bangs on a weaker aluminum and steel door, forcing it open. He turns around and closes it. His back facing the door. Another room. This castle gives the feeling of it being abandoned. Spider cobwebs are spread on the corners of the surfaces of the steel/brick walls. IN the room, John sees a flight of more stairs. He takes them down as they spiral into a loop to loop. John braces the steps, each foot, clanking on the steps. CLACK CLACK CLACK. These are the sounds of his dress shoes hitting the companionway, spiral staircase. 

John sees a barricaded steel door. He pushes it only to see a large field of grass and wheat lands. Like the great western plains. Plaine solids are revered by plants because they can grow deep roots into the dirt for nutrients and water. The sky is of a minty green color. John walks the vast field of wheat fields. A scattered amount of many deciduous trees grow furnished in the great west plaine earth. John’s white dress shirt is left dirty and brown spotted. There was a stench of filth left on it. A day of sweat, besmirch and dirt from the cell bed. Fleas and dandruff freshly itching John’s scalp and black hair. He scratches himself as he walks further into the great emptiness of the field. John thinks to himself how in hell he’s ever going to find a taxi around here. John’s legs give out as they feel weak and heavy. Each stride is more energy-consuming than the last. Up over the field, John sees a church of a mild saint cruising and telling pupils about their sins. Their misdemeanors to god. John feels his weak stiff legs fall apart, as he lays on the ground, passing out. 

When John awakes yet again in bed. He sees several water cups laid out for him on his bed. The bed of the Priest of the local church farm. Two nuns are taking care of him as he awakes. They say he’s the man from the wheat fields, he came looking on like a homeless man, wandering the grasslands of the farmers. 

“How are you there boy? You seem really thirsty, so the priest put out these cups here for you. Drink them if you like.”

John nods at them. He takes the cups from the counter cabinet and drinks the ice-cold eater inside. A hard gulp from his thirty lips. The nuns were checking upon him. Two are laid out on the sides of the bed. John sees the one to his right is sweeping the cabinets full of lit candles with a duster picker. The one on his left is speaking to him. The nuns wear white nun robe costumes with their head garments and their headdress as a symbol of purity, modesty, and, to a certain point, her separation from the rest of society. All those symbols in the church are well known to John as he studies demonology and witchcraft. John bends at the waist, crouching up, but the nun facing him tells him to take it slow for the day. When John gets up to go to the local church, there is another hallway. This one is candle-lit with hanging lanterns on the ceiling. Brown walls in the hallway. An arch-like curvature foundation pillars. The morning sun is in the same minty green. the sight of swallows dipping across their fields, and the sounds of kingbirds, dickcissels, yellowthroats, and meadowlarks chirping from fence posts and of barn owls shrieking from haylofts. John walks in the archway as the brick roof tunnel is built over his head. The massive scene of the church can be seen. A marvel to the land scope. John enters past the archway into the church land building. He sees the brown wooden benches in the church room. They are sitting listening to the altar. The rows are sectioned off facing for the man who knows the schooling of god. The priest. His wisdom is bestowed upon them like a teacher in a classroom. The choir is to the right and the priest is giving his Sunday praise in the middle stage. The townspeople have gathered here today to listen in on the man. 

The priest stands on the altar, saying, “If God is all-powerful and all-knowing; therefore, the fate of each individual soul is known to God at birth, and nothing an individual can do or say could change their ultimate fate. In the holy catholic church, we believed those chosen by God to be saved would experience conversion. In this process, God would reveal to the individual his grace, and the person would know he was saved. In the bible, it says, ‘Then Moses went up to God, and the Lord called to him from the mountain and said, ‘This is what you are to say to the descendants of Jacob and what you are to tell the people of Israel: ‘You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself.  Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession.’These are the words you are to speak to the Israelites.’– Exodus 19:3-6. One of God’s purposes for Israel was that they would be a people who would obey him and keep his covenants. Just as we try to do every day in our lives. The Israelites were chosen to establish a country and a faith under God’s love and will.”

John quietly joins the audience party when he sits down at the far back of the benches. He listens to the party’s lecture about the chosen people of the Israelites. John only reemerges and strengthens his knowledge of the bible and its narrative. 

“The Word of the Lord.” The priest says.

“Thanks be to God.” the audience replies together.

ALLELUIA time. Now it's time for the priest to read the Gospel (one of the first four books of the New Testament). Since this is a story about Jesus, everyone stands.

Usually, everyone will first sing:

“Alleluia is the highest praise! Alleluia is the highest praise! Alleluia is the highest praise! Alleluia is the highest praise! Let everything that hath breath, praise the Lord! Come on and sing, be joyful unto the Lord. Let everything that hath breath, praise the Lord! Come on and sing, Let! Let everything!”

Now for the gospel. The priest walks over to the Bible. John notices that he also bows to the altar as he passes it, and as he's walking, the priest says quietly, “Almighty God, cleanse my heart and my lips that I may worthily proclaim your gospel.”

Once he's done saying this, he says: “The Lord be with you.”

Then everyone else in the room says, “And also with you.’

A reading from the holy gospel according to Luke.

Everyone then traces a small Cross with their right thumb on their forehead (it looks like they are scratching their forehead), on their lips, and their heart. As they do this they're quietly praying, "May the Gospel be on my mind, on my lips, and in my heart." At the same time, they're saying:

“Glory to you, Lord.”

The priest then reads the Gospel, and when he's done, he says:

“The gospel of the Lord.”

The audience replies, “Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.”

The priest then whispers to himself: “May the words of the gospel wipe away our sins.”

And now everyone can sit again. Once the church is done, the homily can begin. Now the priest spends some time explaining the Bible readings that were just read. This sounds interesting to John, as its jets him thinking to renew his faith in God and prevent his unhealthy pessimistic tiredness viewings about the religion. But it is unfortunately interrupted as all the church candles go out. And the audience turns to the statue of Christ to see a black formed goo expanding from beneath the shadows. John sees it is the Second of the fallen. 

The Second of the Fallen speaks to John, “Sin, You have.”

John stands up from his prayer bench and circles in motion his ritual spells, showing orange spells sigils from his hands. John slouches, getting spell ready as he whispers to himself, “Inomini patre, filio et Espiritu Sancti, fac me posse prohibere daemonem hunc daemonem, ne ab his doleat.”

John tries punching the demon, but its liquid quantities only morph into another shape and he misses. He feels like he is punching play-doh. Or wind. 

“Weak, you are. And physical shape, I don't have. Defeated, you will be. For without physical shape, you cannot touch. And what you cannot touch, KILL, you cannot.”

John sorcers up a huge ball of yellow magic fire. He then disperses it onto the black darkness that is the Second of the Fallen. It flies off. John thinks to himself: Wow, that was easy. John tilts his head and shrugs the attack off as if nothing happened. 

John apologizes for ruining the mass, saying, “Oh, sorry folks, Guess you’ll have to finish that mass some other time.”

But the black empty darkness has not yet left the premise, for it then darkens the room yet again, with Constantine at the Second’s whim. John is taken back as to the stark fright the demon causes him. It takes him by surprise and pushes him into the church’s clean, shiny floor where the townsfolk walk to the altar for the body of Christ.

 John screams to the priest, “Throw me some holy water!”

The priest acknowledges this, and does so accordingly, he throws John an ornate brass holy water sprayer. It is empty and John does not catch it. It lays on the red carpet church floor. John shuffles his feet and steps in the swinging of his arms at the black ghost. The Second pushes its black entities out into John’s peripheral vision, rendering him blind. All he can see is black. A local catholic townsperson pushes the sprinkler with his foot to John’s premise. Another woman in the townsfolk hands John the holy water sprinkler. John waves his hand around trying to see. His hand touches the brass golden water sprinkler and finally grasps it. John fumbles back, shaking his back, trying to get the Second of the Fallen away. The townsfolk take initiative and begin taking holy water out from the brass bowls hung on the walls. The priest is stunned by the black magic wizardry he foresaw with the demon and John. 

John knows he cannot slay what he cannot touch, so he tries a different approach to killing the monster. All demons can be killed the same. Just as any demon, they all have their weaknesses. The spear of destiny or another type of special spear. 

John yells to the townspeople, “Get me buckets of holy water! Now!”

The townspeople do so and they scurry around frantically searching. A crowd of ten or twenty people holding buckets of holy water on their arms, carry them near to John. John is being harried by the Second of the Fallen as it flies to and from his face. John slaps his hands away, trying to get the thing away from him. 

John yells for the people to, “Throw the holy water to my feet! Do it!”

The townspeople do so. Their buckets tilt and splash all over the dusty demon. John’s dress shoes get darker by the effects of the holy water. Then all the land and all the colors turn black and abrupt in flames, as the portal to hell opens and the Second of the Fallen and John Constantine are teleported to hell once more. The sky is up in flames, the walls are burnt in ash. The streetcars broke down and tarred. Literal blazing fireballs rain down from the sky into the buildings, leaving crates, quadrupedal demons roam the streets, and dragon winged brainless beats take to the black mist sky. The black mist sky with flame heat haze like a bomb after-show at the end of World War 2. Constantine has to deal with the creature here, on Hell's plane. A winged dragon demon clutches onto John's back. It flies him to a designated location, the Second chases after him. The dragon demon reels Constantine into a fire pit. John is demolished by the flames in his doom. John screams in agony. The Second of the Fallen pushes the dragon demon to dip John into the pit. But John won't have it. He stealthily takes out his Christian cross blade and heats up the wood, it bursts in flames. John stabs the demon dragon into its belly as he holds onto the blade. With it, John wields the demon to fly at his will. John alleviates the flying altitude with himself riding the dragon demon. A flying meteorite falls into the dragon demon’s flight route. John makes a hard lower right turn, just missing it. The flames start to penetrate John’s shirt. With his legs mounting the demon, John uses the other hand to pat the flames off his shoulder. The Second of the Fallen still chases after them. 

John looks down at the dragon demon, telling him, “Come on, move!” He says as he tries moving the blade to steer the beast into a space facing a burning building. 

John yells while being the conductor of the demon’s flight. They steer into a burnt boulding, John makes a leap of faith, by jumping from the dragon, pulling out his cross blade, and trying to reach the other building. John does, remarkably. But he Stubbs his ankle, and it is twisted. The LORD's metaphorical amulet restored John of his injury. John sees the Second fling at him. John takes out one of his dual Witch’s curse handguns and aims and fires at the Second and the Dragon demon. He runs into the rooftop door, leading to the stairs, John jumps down as he fires up his dual handgun with one arm. The Second of the Fallen and the dragon demon follows. John is stopped from his fall by holding onto a  Bile Riz monster that jumped off the stair's railing. John holds the creature’s ear. He is trying not to fall to the floor. The Bile Riz monster pulls him into the stairs, saving him. However, this was done mistakenly as now it tries to chew John’s legs. The Bile Riz likes to live in the buildings of hell, inside, unlike the quadrupedal demons who run wild or bed in the open. The Bile Riz, however, are legless, winged creatures that don't use their wings but only crawl on walls. They have short blue and red tails. Their entire bodies are a color scheme of blue and red. They croak like zombies. John crawls back, He notices he lost one of his dual guns in the battle. He takes out the other, shooting the demon in the head. Its brains splatter on its remains. John wipes the blood from his chin and carries on. He stands up. Surprised, he sees the Second of the fallen still questing for him. The demon crawls. John figures he needs a way to kill the Second of the Fallen. He does so by taking out his braided cross prayer necklace and twirling it in his fingers. He shows it to the black mass that is the Second. It only incircles it and pushes it away. John moves his arm back and to the demon. 

He says to it that "in the name of the LORD, it cannot hurt me!"

John flies off a building, then calling a demon dragon with a magical spell, he rides it like a horse. His destination: the temple of Hell. He goes back to the church where he was located and awoke to rot at, near the wheat fields. Only in this version of hell, it’s a temple pantheon of the devil, not a temple of God. It looks like a park pavilion, only at a gargantuan scale. The collomb pillars stand tall in this building. The walls of the temple are orange-red, craggy, and jaggy. The sky is yellow-orange, as the light hits the structure, it is a hazy brown. A concurring sandstorm circumferences the perimeter. John’s clothes such as his dark brown coat and his black hair flutter in the sandstorm wind. Several doors open with different key locks. In a hurry, John rushes strongly, balances, and jumps off the back of the dragon demon. He tucks his legs and leans over as he does, trying to avoid falling. John drives the stake into its heart to kill it with the other hand he didn’t use to support his weight when getting off. The Christian cross blade is pulled out, spitting red. It is marked with several demons’ dying liquids. He marches onto the aligned pillars of the temple. Walking under the mammoth ceiling roof over his head. John looks like an ant in a dirt slope as he does because of the pantheon’s size. John places his hand on the massive marble doors. He feels the giant doorway for the key. The doors are decorated with large statues of tokens with a shape of a black ghost figure drawn on. It also displays sleek square metal frames on the walls. It is a pattern of a bony, black fist catching black souls with a net trap. This is the story the narrative art tells. 

“This temple pantheon of hell holds the puzzle, where I must enact the ritual sequence to summon the divine light of God to vanquish the Second. I need to find the seal of the temple pantheon. The strange key for a strange door. They’ll be here, somewhere.” John says as he checks through the gates. He reminds himself of the plan and what he has to do to achieve it. His game plan for deporting the Second of the Fallen back to where he fell. 

John searches the door’s exteriors. His hand touches the door on every wedge and crack. He kneels checking the door lower. He gets up higher, searching in the middle of the gates. Finally, behind a  Victorian brass black door knocker, John finds the key. The seal to the pantheon temple of Hell. He opens the gates of the temple pantheon. The key rotates as he inserts it inside, and the gears inside the gate move loudly bandaging onto each other. CRANK is the sound of the grease inside turning and twisting. The gates unlock. 

Immediately, John is met with sharp glass scattered about the room. Large pieces up to three-foot-high. A broken colored glass. John is careful not to cut himself as he steps over the glass. He coughs as the dust rises, putting a hand over his mouth. Inside he can see it is a pantheon like a fortress. With mounted torches on every red wall. The rooms look like hotel rooms in a corridor. John runs inside the corridor, feeling the Second of the Fallen following him. The Second surpasses all the previous rooms he dealt with before and is right in John’s tracks, smelling his alive soul, knowing he is there. John knows he has nowhere to hide, so he keeps running. John runs up a fort hill of brown stairs. He takes a feel for the temple pantheon. The rooms had changed a bit. He is sure can find his way into the Hell’s pantheon spell room. It looks like it’s been sealed off. Boulders have fallen into the entrance route. John must seek another way in. John goes up the rocks, trying to see an entrance route. He jumps back onto the floor. It’s no use. He tries blasting the Holy Shotgun at the rocks, but they only smolder into smaller pieces of rock. One by one, John pulls out the boulders, taking the smallest ones he can find. About four by three feet. Some larger, some wider. A short, but excruciating task. The Second is not far behind, It is making its way into the corridor. John climbs the boulders again, like scaling a mountain without a harness and rope. He notices a steep gap from the roof to the piling of rocks. He makes his way through. The Holy Shotgun gets caught in the hole. John tries to nudge it loose. Better to leave it behind, John thinks. So he does. John sees the Second is right behind the smoldering pile of stone. He takes his best shots, firing five or six times. The Second is unfazed by them. Again, it is a black shadow entity, not touched by physical things. Leaping off the mountain rocks, John enters the room of Hell’s pantheon temple. A large symbolistic floor pattern spread across the ground. John pushes four candle lamps moved with the rolling crate they are in. The carpet rock floor is a mixture of black, brown, orange, and black from the filth. The goal is to keep all the lit lamp tables to the corners of the carpet symbol pattern puzzle. He pushes the first crate, then the next, then the next. Once he reels the fourth into the remaining corner, a great divine light appears. John seeks to do the impossible: summon God unto Lucifer’s plane. 

“Egor Por Atra van Sed Estus sang ui torum!” John yells, as purple lightning strokes out from his heart and his palms. 

It strikes the darkness of the Second of the Fallen. Who has made its way into the Hell’s pantheon spell room. The Second of the Fallen can phase through solid objects. It phased past the boulder mountain rocks sealing the entrance of the pantheon spell room. The table lanterns light the four corners and emits the divine light of the LORD. God's presence can be felt as the light shines into the room with his wise goodness. John, God, and the Second keep on with the battle of light and dark. The brightness of the day, and the evil of the night. The Second is burnt by the esteemed white tunnel of God’s passageway. 

The Second of the Fallen screams, “Mine, your soul is! Constantine, Mine! Want it, I do! Most valuable soul on Earth, it is! Came to collect in 2005, Lucifer did! Himself, he did! In-person! Not GOD’s! NO!”

Constantine surmises the statement with lightning still striking at the demon, “This means you're going against your superior, Lucifer. Another treacherous demon out to get him. Huh, figures.” Then he looks at the Second square, angrily provoked, “My soul is Lu’s until I can prove otherwise. Until I can prove I am worthy of heaven. With good deeds.” 

The Second is greeted in fear when the diving divine light comes into the scene. In the room, it enlightens John, telling him about the countless demons on earth. And how he can deport them all at once. If only he can continue his fight for the LORD against the devil and his Half-Breeds, Shadow demons, winged demons, and all in between. He must continue his task as the demonologist, dark occultist, and exorcist that he is. 

“I will, god, I will. And tell Jesus Christ I said hi.”

John and the LORD leave the temple pantheon of Hell. John Constantine and the LORD transport back to earth’s plane. The setting around them shifts back into the earth version of it. The LORD tells John, “Keep these acts of benevolence, and you will earn your gateway into heaven.”

John smiles and says, “Thanks.”

“Let's hope I see you back in my place, John,” the LORD says smirking at him. He gives him a look of promise. A look of confidence. God is confident John will prove his worthiness to the light and his penance to Lucifer about his suicide repaid. 

John is thankful and appreciative to the LORD. God shuts his divine light and makes his excursion back to heaven. Back on earth, it is a home John knows all too much of. The place where humans live their lives. He leaves the priest who was befuddled to the fight with the Second. John flummoxed the townspeople, especially the priest. John explains the circumstances of the display of power tides competing between the dark entity; the Second and himself.

“Yeah, I was fighting this demon called the Second of the Fallen. He is part of a trio of demons that came after Lucifer fell. I am an exorcist and expert of the dark arts.”

After John says this, the priest nods his head in affirmation. “Well, thank you for sparing us the reproaches of the demon in its denominations in the house of God. Be sure you have slain the demon so that it does not trespass once more. For demons rule over the dominions of sin.”

John nods to the father. 

John walks out the corridor of the church’s building. This corridor is candle-lit with hanging lanterns on the ceiling. Brown walls were built of wattle and daub inside the church of catholic worship. An arch-like curvature foundation pillars. The chandeliers and the candles of the church are delicately placed on the narrative paintings. These ones depict Jesus with open arms. His father above him and the holy spirit at his side. Around them are several benevolent angels to their aid. At the exit of the church are black walls with light brown doorways. John dips his hand on the holy water on the tray. It is placed on a modern white drink table. John dabs his fingers on the water and signals the sign of the cross on his way out.

Sitting in a roundtable of internet geeks, Zed felt confident at the endeavor. Shia was explaining to her who sat with her. One was to handle the various accounts in showbusiness. Facebook, Messenger, Instagram, etc. Another handled the studio for the art gallery: Daniela McLawson. It is up to the producer to spend the artist's budget. Most producers have connections and use them to generate arrangement deals with studio owners and engineers.

Shia gives his output on the paintings, “I think it’s some great work you've done. I feel you definitely have the heart. So, our price is, let's say, $10. You get a dollar for us to publicize this into a gallery. We keep nine of them. You sell them for a dollar for each canvas and frame.“

“So, you get more money because I’m paying you for the resources that I need to promote my work?”

“Yes.”

Zed decides to buy a booth. She told Shia he would accept the deal. She told Shia she could afford the money to rent a fancy booth in an art fair to place his paintings at. One by one Zed began taking down her paintings from the loading truck on the parking lot.

On the day of the open house, the customers gather around, sightseeing the portraits and land ambiance pieces. 

On the day of the open house, the customers gather around, sightseeing the portraits and land ambiance pieces. 

The scene is a drinking glass of champagne. The scene begins on a split-screen. All characters of the exhibition are there looking at Zed Martin’s paintings with very critical eyes. Three individuals can be seen talking to each other. One is Shia, the one who is looking to promote Zed’s art pieces and is choosing his favorites at the moment. One is Daniela McLawson. She is the city´s by far most exuberant gallery owner in Los Angeles. To her right is Hamsa Collett. She is the museum curator who has become a financial advisor. They are talking about the shenanigans that occur in the contemporary art business. How a contemporary museum curator can become a financial advisor to art galleries. About how people with artistic talent and money can be suited to buy things they normally are not inclined to buy to establish relationships with gallery owners. 

Hamill says, “I left the museum business and now I work for a private buyer.”

“Whom?¨ replies Daniela

“I cannot say,” replies Hamsila in a roguish way.

”Oh, well how interesting of you.”

“She wishes to remain anonymous. I do know how to excite my buyer. I will handpick the best options for her. ”

Shia says to the two girls, “I have my eye on several of these delights. I know which I will buy.”

Daniela tells Shia, “Let's hope the sales go well. It seems buyers will be very busy tonight.”

The view moves to other guests of the art gallery. Two other investors are looking to invest in Zed’s business. Trying to get her success to raise the bar. To put their money into her artwork. 

One says, “I think it’s quite a good investment.”

The other says, “I think it’s sh*t.”

“I think the best work is only enjoyed by a tiny view and scope of people. People unlike you.”

“Whatever,” she says as she rolls her eyes.

“You think I have bad taste, that’s your opinion. My taste is my business. I’ll go to an art show next week and buy something I really enjoy.”

The camera moves to two other practitioners. They see Zed’s art in hopes of mimicking her grander. One is blonde with a tight black dress and the other a brunette barbie bird. She has a beige-colored dress and black high boots and her face with diamond earrings. 

One tells the other, “I think money is everywhere. We just have to be creative and daring to conceive it. Create something, and no one will say no to it. Everything is cashable and profitable.”

“Oh, yeah? What about that? It is just a pipe dream for you. You’ll never become as great as this woman is. Look at this work!” The fair brunette woman says with a mix of cynicism and enthusiasm. Then she adds to her statement, “But if everything is pretty as you say and meaningful, then no one will be special. What makes you stand out? Huh?’

The blonde one says, “I won't let you ruin this moment for me. I want to be just like her.”

The camera viewpoints in a new direction. The direction of Zed herself, watching as her talent surfaces, and is refreshing the guests at the exhibit. Zed smiles at her work and the impression it caused to a great number of the clients. Zed goes to some of her guests who admire her work. She feels someone's eyes glued onto her, but she cannot make out who it is. She glances back at her shoulder, scans the room, but nothing. She resorts to her goal of persuading her guests at her masterpieces. She tells a group of sightseers what they think.

The main speaker of the group is an elderly woman of 68 years of age: Mrs. Shaw. Wrinkly but well kept. Her hips and waist give a youthful figure to her elderliness. Her makeup is not overly done. Pale skin, but clear of incongruent pigments and freckles. 

“Interesting,” Mrs. Shaw says, “Much of these arts are about a singular man. One American who smokes thirty cigarette packs a day. He seems introverted, but not in a sad depressing way, more of a preoccupied concentration that makes him apathetic to other people around him. Doesn't want to be in a relationship or deal with people. He doesn't look at the crowd around him. He looks through the crowd at his destination. To his mission. He has somewhere to be and smokes as he walks towards it. Like he has been fighting internal struggles for quite some time. He always wears a black suit. White dress shirt. Clean shave and messy short hair. He doesn't wear a watch. Must not have the need for tracking time. Maybe his mission does not acquire him to be on time. He is always walking the streets in the city you’ve drawn. Such detail. Even to the smoke particles, he is exhaling. Every ounce. I do like how they are not in color. Gives it a dark grounded setting. Maybe it was an ex-boyfriend or a former colleague or just a fictional character.”

Zed gives her thoughts without spoiling the connection the art has to her life, “Well, I am glad to hear your interpretations. And no, I won't tell you who or what it’s based on,” Zed says this with a smile and glee in her heart.

To Zed Martin´s surprise by the end of the open exhibition, all of her new ten art canvases were bought. 345 of her previous ones of 4,000 paintings were to be precise. Mostly about the ambiance of Los Angeles, the ambiance there, depicts the friendly community there. Los Angeles, Bell Gardens, Long Beach, Maywood, Burbank, and Beverly hills. The man who brought the one from Maywood's has parents there. Zed asked each of them before they left as to what value they saw in his work. Zed once took a train to these various cities. And yet she did encounter hidden demons in the shadows, they were not there for her. They kept to themselves. Only she could tell where they were. Behind the windows, walls, street corners, they lay unbare, in masked shells of human forms. Those halfbreeds of the world cause chaos in the realm of Heaven and Earth. Her roundabouts in the Wilshire Rodeo train station took her to these new exciting sights. She then painted urban art about what she saw there. To add some contrast to her John Constantine paintings. Zed’s Bell Garden paintings display eight different community parks, a covenant of golf courses, surmounting up to 98 total golf courses. The civilians love their golf courses. Millions of cafes, grills, and restaurants, many of them Mexican eateries. This is because California has a large population of immigrants and Latino races commuting there. Long Beach is known for its waterfront attractions, including the permanently docked RMS Queen Mary and the Aquarium of the Pacific. Long Beach also hosts the Grand Prix of Long Beach, an IndyCar race, and the Long Beach Pride Festival and Parade. It also houses many of the world’s greatest artists there, from Hollywood performers to composers, magazine models, American football players, and other television personalities. She painted the twelve gorgeous beaches there. Portraits of landscape art of Alamitos, Belmont, Colorado, Granada, Rosie Dog’s, City beaches, Marine, Mothers, Peninsula, and Shoreline beaches. Multitudes of sunsets and sunrise beach-themed canvases. For Maywood landscapes, drawing of museums, hotels, Super Bowl stadiums, and fans enjoying their football contest tournament. Trillions of dollars amounted to her work.

At the art marketing studio building, At the office meeting, a CEO executive desk views the outside buildings in the city.  Zed sat down with Zed Martin to discuss the set prices or to at least get a range for the pricing. She priced them at different rates. Shia told her to not be cocky and stay with the restated and regimented price tag. They decided on $940 to start for each of her portraits. Then the bigger landscape pieces to be around 2,326 to start. This is for her library's 7,000 artwork pieces. She told her not to get too greedy with her work. He knows how artists can qualify their work at a pedestal only seen by themselves. That's why it's best to get a second perspective. To see if the work really shines and it’s not just in the art’s biased mind. Shia told him once you get more into the game of setting and selling, you’ll get better at pricing. It's a very difficult job. Zed contrastingly creates friction because she feels she wants to price on how much work she put in, not what others may think of it. 

“Your clients are more comfortable if you already have a set price so staying at that $1,000 mark is a good start. Worst comes to shove, Zed, your set with a client asking you, ‘ how much is this one?’ You say, ‘Oh, I don't know how much you think it is worth. I didn't think you'd like this one.’ terrible job. Be swag. Be cool. That is not cool.”

Zed tells Shia, “I think the work is worth millions. Let it be priced high then for each piece. “

Shia responds, with his years of expertise behind him, “Don’t be cocky. It’s not good to be greedy. You need to stay at a regimented price tag.”

“Let's go with 3,000 dollars apiece.”

“That's far too much. How about two thousand?”

“$4000”

$1,000”

“2,000”

“$945 to start for each of your portraits. Final offer. You have around 6,548 paintings, how are you not going to get wealth from this? It’s a lot of art pieces. “

“Yes, it’s a lot of paintings. How about $950?”

“940”

“Fine,” Zed Martin says.

Back at the art exhibit open house scene, Zed martin gets to her next question as she discusses to Shia who is standing in front of her yet again, “When can I express my gratitude to the art Gallery owner?”

“Right now, “ Shia says. 

Daniela McLawson walks toward Aed. her feminine figure shaped by her dress as her legs gait toward Zed. 

“I'm so happy you've taken my offer and my paintings up for your gallery display.”

Daniela, accepts her thank you saying, “Oh, thank you. Why I'm always glad to see fresh faces start up their career with my help.”

John enters Zed’s Art gallery. He smiles as he sees she has much satisfaction in her work. He glances at her from afar. Zed is inaudibly telling her customers about her art piece. They ask her questions. When Zed finished talking to Mrs. Shaw still feels her eyes on her. She turns and makes eye contact with John, as Mrs. Shaw spells, “Speak of the devil!”

Mrs. Shaw looks at John telling him, “Are you the man in these portrait paintings?”

John looks at the art then at Zed, then back at the elderly lady. John says, charmingly, “I guess I made inspiration.”

John turns his head looking at more paintings. Zed, Daniela, and his pace around in a white showroom. Three pieces are shown. A large John Constantine painting, and t the right, a beautiful sunset in Peninsula Beach. 

John comments on the work, “This is all authentic, right?’ he says and continues talking, alluding to the time he used second-grade relics to exorcist a demon, “I know a couple of things about how authenticity never works around what you're after. Like the time I used forged Christian artifacts on a demon back in 2003.” John’s eyes look down with remembrance, “I went to Midnight’s bar, where he told me about its consequences, but I didn’t listen.”

Zed says to John with a mix of certainty to what she is saying and a mix of interest in Constantine’s avowal, “I guess even exorcists make mistakes. They are as real and authentic as Hell and Heaven are, John. I would never copy someone else's work. That’s cheating.” Zed saying this sends John a teasing grin.

John says with enthusiasm, “Glad to see you’re happy here, Zed. Almost looks like you’ll have to paint yourself now.  Your own portrait,” John says with flippant vibes, “Come on, Zed. You’re much prettier than I am.” 

With a happy flirtatious smile, going up to her eyes, Zed Martin understands John’s remarkable joke. John in turn feels glad to compliment her. 

John thinks of what to say, then asks her, “How much have you sold? A lot I hope.”

“Oh, only… ” Zed pauses for a moment of anticipation, “345 of the ones of my 4,000 paintings!” she ways with exasperation. 

John naturally and, surprised, a contriare to his normal pessimistic tone to subjects, “Wow, that’s fantastic.”

After an hour of the show, John leads Zed out the door of the art studio, telling her, “Your paintings are very nuanced and stylized. The scene shoot angles are very interesting.”  By the time s, this occurs, it had already been past three a clock at night and John and Zed were feeling exhausted from their endeavors during the day. 

Zed notices a scar on John’s cheek.

“What’s that?” she says.

John acts to it as only a mosquito bite, downgrading its importance, “Oh, what that? That's nothing. I was attacked by demons this late afternoon on my way home.” John tilts his head as he talks, “They kidnapped me, dragged me into their huge castle in the middle of a hay farm. And I escaped and killed them all. A normal late Sunday afternoon.”

John takes a bite of another pink chewing gum. He hands Zed one turning his arm to her with the gun packet. He asks, “Want some? It takes the edge off.”

Zed takes the piece and throws it into her mouth, she and John wait for a taxi cab. 

Zed tries to make conversation, “You glad it stopped pouring today?”

John smiles, telling her, “What are you talking about? It always rains here. It’s Los Angeles. I'm used to the furnaces that outline the streets. Was practically born in these sulky, muddy groaned out streets. The foggy streets portray the poverty of this cruel life test. This life test sent out from god. This city. Early dawn. Deep night. The danger in the portals of hell lurking about the corners. That’s why they attacked me. Cause I’ve deported so many of them. I’m practically their Grim Reaper.” John says this with a smirk and a hint of spiteful pessimism. 

John opens the door to the taxi for Zed and she leaps into the car. But, before John slams the door, he holds out the yellow taxi door and asks Zed warm-heartedly, “I’m not going anywhere. Do you mind I ride with you? I could take you out.”

Zed looks at him and agrees. “Sure thing.”

As the taxi driver rides them out into the night, they flee from their problems at another restaurant. A nice exterior. John and Zed sit there, ordering their food. Eating hamburgers and fires at a deli. The ambiance of the Del Rey Deli Company is located in a small strip mall in the Playa Del Rey location. The inside is stationed with a red and white checkered pattern on the table mantles. They have a few picnic tables out front of the black pull door entrance. In front of the entrance are succulent green miscanthus plants surrounding a large palm tree. They are held on an orange circular curb. The leaves of the palm tree act as an umbrella for shade to the environment. John opens up a gift box and hands it to Zed. She looks down at the boxed-up wrapping and the red ribbon around it. She darts her eyes to John and from the gift. Then to the gift and back again. A smile pierces her lips. “Oh, thank you.”

Zed undoes the wrapping strands and lifts the cardboard box. The box is a four by four. A jewelry gift box. One with deep submarine blue cushioning on the silver necklace. 

John tells Zed, “It’s called the Ether. It's an ambulette. It’ll give you protection. Good luck charm. Think of it as a bulletproof vest.”

Zed looks at the gift and quietly braces the metallic string chain around her neck and hooks it together. They look into their eyes. Look through each other. John sees her facial features, she sees his. Zed looks at him, knowing what is really going on in his mind that worries him, she will never know unless he opens up to her.

“Do you still feel resentment about not being guaranteed the right afterlife?”

“Yeah, well, I guess I just hope my actions can be my light there. My ticket up there. I mean I saved millions of people's lives this past month. I sure hope so. I hope I can chat a little longer and not die prematurely.”

Zed comforts john with a sign of confidence on his face, “I thought you don't believe in romantic comedies?”

John scoffs, then remarks, “I guess there's a first time for everything.”

Zed asks John, “Let’s go to church on Sunday. Renew your interest in our father.”

John quips, “Says the reluctant rebellious daughter.”

Zed laughs as they enjoy their meal. 

The camera and the focus light rise up to the bright sky, out into the galaxy with dark stars, above the smoke ozone layered clouds, where the war on heaven once occurred. Way out there, beyond the cities. Full of shine and sparkle. The stars on the galaxy night glisten. In the galaxy of different planets. There, near the earth’s sun-bright lava hot star. 

John Constantine says in voice-over narration: 

As for the lost souls of Los Angelas, they have returned to their righteous place back inside their righteous bodes. I have done my best to quit smoking nicotine with the help of mint-packed gum. I still fight every urge I get to smoke nicotine, it's not a done deal. Each day you struggle anew. My friend, Zed Martin. I found out her real name is Mary Martin, she just likes being called that. We exchanged kisses later that afternoon, but I'm not much of a romantic, so I didn't want as many as she did. Well, You lose some friends, then you gain some along the way. Their death toll amounts to something magnificent if you realize where they’re going. I will always remember you, Beeman. Always being by my side. You too, Chas Kramer, and don't think you were ever left out. You did the best job you could have done. You just wanted to prove yourself. The thing was, however, you never had to Chas. I hope you can learn that. In heaven or wherever you are. I’m glad you got to visit from heaven to encourage me to save myself from that prison. The fight with the devil will stay its course, and the alliance with the LORD will forever be. As for my friend, Ray Monde, I will find out who kidnapped you. And yeah, I’m pissed at Lu. I’m coming for you and Lu. Now, instead of God’s plan, I have my own plan. I will seek out vengeance to any devil who dares crosses me. Deport them just like I will deport Lu for kidnapping Ray Monde.