Where t’ start? In the beginnin’s usually the best
I’ve found. Ask most anyone, they’ll say the same.
For me, its started months ago, ‘least me latest little situation
anyway. I’d cleaned out a local Hot Spot, a school down
WhiteChapel way what’d been overrun by a coven a’ computer
geeks with delusions a’ grandeur. They’d found some
spells online, spells some shit’d uploaded outta one’a the
bigger, nastier books a’ power, an’ were usin’
‘em in their role playin’ games little realizin’ that
they were dealin’ with the real thing. I got the itch
an’ shut ‘em down proper n’ right quick like.
Screw the repercussions I thought, ‘least then. Maybe if
I’d took a moment I wouldn’t be in me current predicament,
but then if I thought every thing through I wouldn’t be me, now
would I? More on that inna bit, though.
So there was this girl y’see, a cute bird name a’ April
May. No, truly. She was set t’ be the BIG, Mondo sacrifice for the geek
squad before I shut ‘em down. I felt sorry for the chippie,
as she seemed a victim. Go figger. I pulled a string or two
n’ got ‘er sent to a better school, across the river
n’ figured that was that. Little did I know…
April must be a magnet for the shit though, somethin’,
‘cause her new friends at the new school turned out t’ be
BullyBoys for the local Leeches. That’s Vampire for the
Mundane out there. Now I jus’ figgered that little Miss May
was a victim a’ circumstance again, but seems she learned a trick
or two along the way. Payback’s a bitch, n’ so
apparently is April May.
The tart sicced ‘er boys on me, led me a merry chase through
lower London ‘fore I finally got the better of ‘em.
Unfortunately, April got the better a’ me too in the end.
April May, in the sewer, with the lead pipe. I woke up bound
n’ gagged in some sub, sub-basement down in the tunnels what make
up the foundation a’ London proper. I knew from experience
that a man – or woman – could lose themselves down there
n’ never get found, if they didn’t want to. And
apparently little Miss May didn’t want t’ be found, or me
for that matter as well. I was hurtin’ an’ helpless,
me hands tied behind me n’ numb with me ankle chained to a
standpipe up against the wall. April knew enough t’ keep me
shut up and with me ‘ands numb from the constrictin’ wire
bindin’, chained t’ the wall n’ trapped, and I was
beside meself. Stuck ye might say in whatever way you want
t’ take it. Fucked…
An’ I was…
Literally…
Over n’ over…
I learned I’d been outta circulation for over five days from a
bloke named Norton. Poor slob of a sewer worker tried t’
‘help me outta me bind n’ got ‘is ‘eart
‘anded to ‘im, literally. Norton stumbled in on
April’s little party, wrong place, wrong time. Seems sweet
April was keepin’ me fer the current Lord of the Vampyr,
who’d taken a fancy t’ the bird when she got introduced by
the Bullyboys. An’ you all think Dracula, right? But
he’s fer shit, jus’ another Get of a longer line.
Third generation, n’ not convoluted mind, but hardly the first,
or the greatest. No, I got the pleasure a’
pissin’ off the REAL
Lord, the High Queen goes by the name a’ Mary.
Who’d a thought I live so high?
Me, I never ‘eard of the cunt, but she apparently knew me,
an’ held a grudge. Y’see, in one ‘a me more
lucid moments in between drunken binges some months back I managed
t’ off THE King
a’ the Vampyr, that thing that started it all eons ago.
He was lookin’ t’ get his rocks off by killin’ me
– fer all the trouble I’d been t’ him n’
‘is kind. ‘Course he wanted t’ drink a’
the Constantine, jus’ for the irony I guess, poetic justice
n’ all that rot. Little did ‘e know that I had Demon
Blood washin’ through me veins back then. His lord n’
master took a bite, n’ old Johnny boy didn’t take too
well. Me blood turned sour in ‘im like so much spoilt milk
laced with battery acid. The ‘King’ started t’
crumble n’ vomit, an’ me bein’ the bitch I am dragged
‘is sorry ass out inta the sunlight n’ pissed on ‘im
as he shuffled off this mortal coil.
Now there’s poetry for you.
‘Course it doesn’t end there. All that he was had to
go somewhere, an’ apparently this bitch Mary got the gold
star. She’s ‘is First Born I figger, or at least next
in line for the crown. An' of course she wants revenge, so April
‘ands me over to ‘er, head n’ all on a silver plate.
An’ that’s where I am now. I’m still chained in
me room, lookin’ up at Mary, Queen of the Vampyr as she munches
on poor Norton’s heart whilst she figures the best, most horrific
way t’ end me life.
I hear April laughin’.
Norton’s starin’ at me with wide, dark eyes as all the
blood in ‘is chest seeps out onto the floor beneath ‘im.
Jus’ another day in the life a’ John Constantine…
“Constantine… at last.”
So there I sat, egg on me face n’ lookin’ up inta the dark
eyes a’ the latest would be ‘Master of the
Universe’. I rattled me chains, tryin’ t’ get
comfortable. Hell, jus’ tryin’ me best to
focus. I’d been ‘eld for five days on little more
n’ foul water n’ pussy juice, and I was ‘ardly in the
fit n’ trim. Me ‘ands were tinglin’ as the
numbness started t’ fade, but I was feeling the wounds I’d
taken on me run through the concrete jungle with the leeches on me
arse. I was jus’ short of hallucinating from lack of food
n’ water, along with all the abuse. I could barely see
straight, I wanted a fag so much. I needed time t’ get me
shit t’gether, but if Miss Mary followed suit, I was in for a
long-winded recount a’ jus’ why I had t’ die in her
opinion anyway. I wasn’t disappointed…
“Bastard!” she said, hissin’ n’ bearin’
‘er fangs, spittin’ Norton’s blood in me face.
“You killed the greatest man that ever lived!” She
snarled, leaning towards me and givin’ with a bit a’ the FEAR. I
felt it, mind, but I been threatened by the experts.
“Hardly a man, was he, luv?” I mumbled, me voice still
rough from suckin’ on April’s knickers for the better part
of a week. Still, I managed me best ‘eat shit’ grin.
She was fast. Her backhand snapped me ‘ead t’ the
side, almost knockin’ it from me shoulders. I shook me
‘ead, lettin’ the dancing sparkles fade as I spit blood
n’ licked me cracked lips. I saw April grinnin’,
standin’ in the background with wide eyes and watchin’ like
it was the season finale a’ East
Enders; like Kathy was about t’ kick Phil’s arse at
last.
“A better man than you, John Constantine,” Mary spat,
grabbin’ me by the collar of me jacket n’ hoistin’ me
t’ me feet like a rag doll. Then right up in the air.
She ‘ad all the quirks; the FEAR, the
strength, probably the LOOK n’ a Changeling t’ boot. If
she was who she said she was, who I figured she was, then she had all
the myth n’ magic, plus a lot more. Maybe I was screwed at
that.
I kept grinnin’. Keepin’ up appearances and all that
rot. Hell, I had me an image t’ uphold- John Constantine:
bastard.
“Jus’ make it quick, luv.” I twisted me
‘ead a bit, showin’ ‘er me jugular. Under the
circumstance I imagined it was pulsin’ nicely. “And
spare us the floor show if you please? Your lot does tend
t’ ramble – “
She tossed me aside like I was nothing. Me already abused body
bounced off the stone floor like a pair a’ bones. And then
suddenly me plunge cut short as I reached the end of me leash. I
felt somethin’ pop, n’ ‘eard the snap through every
bone in me body. Me ankle was on fire, burnin’ with pain
an’ I’m not too proud t’ admit that I was
cryin’ like a bitch. Five days a wear n’ tear
n’ I think even the Bat might break down.
Well, maybe not. Still I gritted me teeth n’ through the
tears I saw the ‘snap’ hadn’t been me ankle, rather
the rusty chain that had me part a’ the furniture an’
April’s rubber fuck doll. I was free –
“Magi scum!”
Well, not quite…
Mary shifted into somethin’, not quite mist or bat, but
definitely ugly n’ nothin’ like I’d want t’
meet in a dark alley. Whatever it was sort’a washed across
the room in a reeking stench of sludge that had me heavin’ up the
acid that was all that was left in me stomach. I spat bile
n’ not a bit of blood on the cracked dirty stone, watchin’
as Mary’s shiny leather boots reformed right in front of
me. I had time t’ blink right before the pointed toe
slammed me square between the eyes, hard enough t’ flip me over
and onto me back.
Stars were spinnin’ in me sight, gray n’ dazzling all at
once. Of course I’d landed hard n’ me ‘ead
bounced off the floor right on the throbbing goose egg that sweet April
had given me days before. I was still tryin’ t’ focus
when I felt the sole a’ Mary’s boot on me throat, the long,
sharp stiletto heel jabbin’ in me Adam’s Apple. I
could barely breathe as she pressed down, grinnin’ all wicked
like. To think I used t’ pay for this kinda shit.
“You want it quick, Constantine?” she said, her voice
hissing on the ‘S’, just a bit a’ the ‘things
that crawl’ still lingering in her ancestry. You can dress
‘em up… “I will make it as swift as you made it for
my love, my Sire. And it shall be as painful as the memories are
to me.”
Here it comes. I figured I was going t’ get the long
version n’ I wasn’t disappointed. Gave me time
t’ think though, aside from the foot grindin’ down on me
throat and the stench a’ death that was fillin’ me lungs
with every breath. She stank a’ the grave, though it seemed
she was tryin’ t’ cover it with a Glamour t’ mask the
scent. Probably worked too, at least from a distance. Up
close n’ personal as I was though, she smelt a’ old, worn
leather and unwashed feet over traces a’ wilted orchid. I
would’ve laughed. I know blokes who’d pay big
t’ swap places with me right then. I’m more of an ass
man, meself, or would be if I survived.
“I have His memories, Constantine,” she continued
jus’ shy of a rant. I was startin’ t’ fade so
she eased up a bit on the heel and shifted forward, leering down at
me. “When He died, I felt it. We all did. It
hurt, bastard, but not as much as the lonely, hollow void within, left
forever empty with His passing. I cried Constantine, for the
first time in ages, since my turning and first Kiss. The weaker
of His children could not withstand the loneliness. Poor Joshua
turned his face to the sun, and Anthony allowed himself to be taken,
dragging his coffin up from the bowels of his dark haunt. I
considered it as well, Constantine. That chance to be with Him
once more, slim as it was.
“Oh, I know,” she chuckled, shoving her foot forward until
the toes were pressing into me lips n’ teeth. “We are
cursed. Sentenced to whatever room in Hell awaits us, and He of
course passed on. You are right Constantine. He was not a
man. He was a god…”
Her eyes went all misty for a second, no doubt the memories of whatever
they had came floodin’ back. There was almost a catch in
‘er voice, and jus’ for a heartbeat she almost looked
human. Not being stupid, I took advantage n’ breathed, me
mind throbbin’ as I tried to gather me strength. I started
scratchin’ in the filth on the floor, me nails diggin’ and
breaking off, flakin’ away as I traced –
“Gahhh!”
I screamed as pain shot down onto me ‘and. This time
something did break, and when I managed to look up I saw April towering
over me right next t’ Queen Mary. April had been watching
and knew what I was up to I guess. Rushed right over like a good
little Renfeld n’ drove her heel right down on me ‘and,
crushin’ me two outer fingers in the process. Woke me right
up, after the blaze a’ pain eased n’ the red washed out of
me sight.
An’ there was Mary n’ April locked in a French Kiss
n’ pettin’ right overhead and straddling me, giving me a
worm’s eye show better’n any porn they sell in the
Circus. Mary had an arm crooked ‘bout April’s neck,
‘oldin’ ‘er close n’ tight, the other
‘and snaked up Miss May’s tee shirt n’ fondlin’
‘er breasts like a star glazier at the tumblers of a Big
Johnny. I watched, still gatherin’ me breath and me wits as
Mary slid ‘er ‘and down April’s taut belly n’
slithered her long fingers right down into the girl’s knickers.
I ‘eard April moan, n’ ‘er body seemed t’
almost melt there for a moment as Mary found ‘er sweet
spot. April ‘ad been rubbin’ along Mary’s tight
leather corset, fidgeting with the laces, n’ as ‘er arms
sagged n’ went limp the cords came undone n’ Mary’s
tits jus’ kinda exploded out.
Cor…
I puffed, feelin’ Little John strugglin’ between me
legs. Guess I wasn’t as over-sexed as I figured, despite
April’s best efforts the past few days. Funny what you
think about at times though, even with death lookin’ t’
spit in your eye. Sex n’ sex n’ sex.
Bloke’s still a bloke I suppose, right up t’ the last.
‘Course reality ‘as its way a’ rearin’ its ugly
head when you least want it to, or expect it. I felt the spittle
a’ hot blood hittin’ me in the face, n’ when I
focused again I saw April was quivering from the pain and
excitement. Her whole body was tremblin’ as Mary was
gnawin’ on ‘er throat, n’ lappin’ like the
bitch in heat that she was right then. I figured ‘Bye bye
luv’ for little Miss May, but of course I was wrong.
Again…
I looked closer n’ saw that April ‘ad her lips pressed on
Mary’s throat too, n’ suckin’ for all she was
worth. I been on that receiving end and knew that Mary for all
she was didn’t ‘old a candle t’ those lips.
They were trading blood. Mary was giving April what she had
wanted from the start. What ‘er little geek boyfriend back
in St. Mary’s Blessed Shroud of Enlightenment ‘ad promised
‘er, in spite of ‘is real intentions. Power…
What was it in that movie? Live forever? Never grow
old? Party all night? Granted, it ‘ad its appeal I
suppose, n’ if I was young n’ clueless again n’ the
opportunity presented itself, who knows what I’d do. Hell,
look what I did, the path I chose. What’s the worst?
April collapsed onto the cold, damp stone right beside me, ‘er
body thumpin’ like a sack of wet cement. I eased me
‘ead t’ the side n’ saw ‘er eyes starin’
back into mine. They were sparklin’ with the ecstasy of the
greatest orgasm she’d ever ‘ad, I imagine. Her face
was plastered with a wide, lop-sided grin n’ I could tell that
she was still breathin’, the little pants of ‘er hot, beer
soaked breath washin’ over me in spurts, few n’ far
between. Not dead, n’ not quite Undead, not yet at any
rate, but definitely out of it.
I looked up again, me eyes wandering as I tried to take it all
in. I dunno if it was the echo of Death’s heels
clackin’ in the distance, or the overwhelming scent of sex
that’d caused the room t’ steam but everything looked
crystal clear n’ surreal there for about the space of a heartbeat.
Mary dominated the scene of course, standin’ over me n’
lickin’ at the blood about ‘er lips. Like most
leeches she was in flux after the feed, ‘er body meltin’
back n’ forth between monstrous n’ the façade a
beauty that she wanted the world t’ see. She was glowing
with the experience, her fiery red hair wild about alabaster shoulders
n’ ablaze. Her tits were bloody huge after lunch, gorged by
the look n’ heavin’ with the lust a’ what she’d
jus’ done. Her dark eyes were lost n’ dreamy, but
mesmerizing too. I looked away.
There was a spider’s web up in the shadows, queer light from the
lone bare bulb in the room makin’ it shine n’ dance with
odd shadows. I saw the fat, bloated mistress a’ the web
dancin’ on silken strands, feastin’ on one a’ the
flies that ‘ad gathered in the room at the smell of me waste
these past few days. Visions of David Hedison flashed in me mind
as I looked away again.
Norton’s eyes bulged as he stared at me accusingly. Blood
still oozed from the gaping hole in his chest, those flies now gathered
on his wound. I watched the blood seeping towards me, mingling
with April’s, mine n’ even Mary’s I imagined.
Quite the potent potable, not by half. If I was in Africa or
Haiti, that mix with me piss n’ shit could probably open the
Gates a’ Hell.
But this wasn’t the First Continent, n’ I wasn’t Papa
Midnight. I was spent, a simple KNOCK at the tip
a’ me tongue that I’d been tryin’ t’ get off
since before Norton got buggered up the ass.
‘Course, there were ways…
Time caught up t’ me again as Mary’s rush ended. She
planted her boot right square in me chest n’ leaned in,
leerin’ down on me again. I winced, hissin’ through
my teeth as she ground ‘er ‘eel in, playin’ me part,
right to the bitter end. She chuckled.
“Pain Constantine,” she said, ‘er voice all husky
with the trails a lust. “It was a constant
heartache,” she went on barely missin’ a beat. Let
‘er. I ‘ad better things t’ occupy me mind than
Fairy Tales.
“I journeyed to the far lands and hidden realms, mage, seeking
the others. I was not the first of the First, Constantine, but I
was about to be the only and last. I found Agg’rath there
at the top of the world, and it was he that taught me the ways.
We shared, and he gave my pointless existence the direction and power
to move onward. He moved on, Constantine. The last Elder,
the second in age save for one on this world, but in passing he gave me
what he had carried and learned over the ages. His power and
knowledge, as well as my Lord’s.
“I was, Constantine, and now I am.”
I groaned for ‘er pleasure as she ground down again, giggling
like a schoolgirl. Distraction is after all the biggest part
a’ prestidigitation. My fingers scritched n’
scratched through the blood n’ grime on the stone, blind I might
add. I always alluded t’ Chas that I could draw the sigils
with me eyes closed. I was about t’ find out.
“But where there was purpose, mage, there was you as well.
Your image blinded my every waking hour and invaded my torporous
dreams. I craved revenge, Constantine, for what you did to Him,
and myself as well. For all of us.
“I sought out the young and directionless here in London where I
knew you would be time and again. I gathered my forces, my
children and set them out and upon the streets, a web, a net to gather
and draw you in. I actually felt my heart beat again when this
one called through my network and I learned that she had you, and in
such a way as to savor my vengeance. And sweet April as promised
has received her reward, and a vengeance of her own I think.”
Mary stared almost longingly at April May, ‘er blood red lips
quirking into a smile that made me shrivel. “She’s
not dead, Constantine. Not quite turned, but brimming with the
best of what I might share. And more the reason?
She’s pregnant John Constantine, and nine months from now I shall
rip the child from her womb and feast on your bastard progeny.”
Yeah, bloody right. Time t’ end this.
Pulsare!
I got the pleasure of hearing Mary’s high-pitched shriek as me KNOCK spell
washed up ‘er leg and shattered every bone along the way.
Her leg folded back under ‘er weight n’ she pitched
forward, still screamin’ as she sprawled across April’s
body. I winced t’ the sound of ‘er chin hittin’
the slick stone, her jaws snappin’ shut with the impact,
cuttin’ off ‘er screech n’ with any luck she bit
through ‘er tongue n’ broke out ‘er teeth.
‘Course I’m John Constantine, n’ Lady Luck turns a
blind eye my way more often n’ not. Needless t’ say,
I got outta Dodge so t’ speak. ‘Least I tried.
Every bone n’ muscle in me body screamed like Arsenal’s
best dedicated at Finals. I almost collapsed, but me stubbornness
won out in the end n’ I managed t’ get t’ me feet
– with a fuckin’ effort t’ be sure.
I was swaying like I was five sheets n’ me ‘ead was
swimmin’ with pain n’ fatigue a’ me torture the past
few days. I tried t’ concentrate, the sounds a’
Mary’s squeals given me focus. I looked at me ‘ands
n’ saw they were swollen and red, the gash in me palm from
slidin’ down a cable wire t’ get away from April’s
boys hadn’t healed n’ went n’ got infected. As
the blood started t’ circulate again, I felt it. That,
n’ the pain in me ankle as I shifted me weight, the
throbbin’ in the back a me ‘ead from April’s love
tap. I was a bloody mess –
“Damn… you… Constantine…”
And of course, duty called.
I saw Mary trying to get ‘er arms under ‘er, fightin’
through the pain in the sack a’ flesh that used t’ be
‘er leg. She’d heal no doubt, if she was all that,
n’ I ‘ad no reason t’ doubt that she
wasn’t. If I gave ‘er the chance, that is.
I more fell than jumped onto ‘er back, me weight slammin’
‘er back t’ the floor with a slap that was music t’
me ears. She grunted in pain again, with a gush a’ foul,
fetid breath as I figuratively knocked the wind out of ‘er.
I figured she was way past the point of actually needing t’
breathe, but old habits n’ memories die hard.
I felt movement, a rustling n’ saw April strugglin’
t’ get out from under the two of us. She looked t’ be
hurtin’ too, though why I could only guess. Maybe the link
between Mistress n’ Get, she was feelin’ a bit a’
what Mary was gettin’. Maybe it was jus’ proximity,
or psychosomatic. I’m no doctor – sue me.
Whatever, she was doin’ her best t’ crawl across the floor,
actually kickin’ Mother Mary in the process for distance.
I’d deal with April May another day though. I ‘ad
bigger fish t’ flay.
Inspiration ‘it me like a sledge ‘ammer. I gathered
up the length a’ chain still cuffed about me ankle. Even
with ‘ands the size a grapefruits I could feel the cold, hard
iron, rust n’ all. I swung that shit even as Mary started
t’ rise again.
Now first thought if I was livin’ a horror flick would be
t’ wrap the chain about the bitch’s throat n’
strangle ‘er. And I would’ve, probably, jus’
for the pleasure of it, pointless as It would be. Like I said
though, Mary was probably way beyond breathin’, but while she was
more kin t’ demon than Fairie, the iron was still anathema.
It would hurt, though not like, say, an Elf. ‘Course, I was
on top, n’ with me wits about me enough t’ give the High
Queen a bit a’ payback. I jus’ had t’ hope she
was still too out of it t’ shift free.
I whipped the chain right into the horse’ mouth so t’
speak, grabbin’ the loose end even as ‘er sudden gag turned
into a scream. I reared back doing me best John Wayne,
turnin’ the chain into a bit n’ bridle n’ rode that
bitch.
“Chew on that ya bloody cunt!”
Yeah, okay. It was a heat a’ the moment thing. But it
worked.
Instead a’ simply changing to a mist or bat or some other vermin,
Mary gasped n’ gagged n’ clutched at the chain. Like
I hoped – in after thought of course – she was still too
new with the whole Lord of the Undead thing t’ think through the
pain. Her predecessor, n’ Hell even Dracula would’ve
seen the obvious way out, but Mary was still green n’ way too
focused on her revenge t’ hone ‘er new lot in life –
or unlife as the case may be. For my part, I gritted me teeth
n’ ignored the pain in me ‘ands as I wrapped the rusty iron
links even tighter in me fists as I reared back n’ pulled all the
harder.
Mary whined as I leaned back, her neck almost folding over. Her
back arched as she struggled against me, lookin’ for some kind of
support. I heard her fingernails scraping against the stone floor
as she clawed, trying to get away. I winced, trying to ignore the
shivers as she gagged and hissed, her teeth grating on the chain…
I flew back suddenly, all resistance gone. I tumbled, slamming
right up against the wall, shakin’ me ‘ead again as a new
pain stabbed into the sore spot. When I looked up I saw Mary
tryin’ t’ reform, her body all misty like n’
dispersed. She was still in agony I could see, but pullin’
it together n’ moving my way.
I braced against the wall and struggled to my feet, barely. I was
breath’ hard n’ ready t’ collapse again, but damned
if I’d go down on me back. Not like that anyway. Me
mind raced, tryin’ t’ call a spell, but I was burnt.
I’d used up what I’d stored, which wasn’t much when
all a’ this started. I ‘ad nothin’.
I slumped against the wall as Mary solidified, ‘er leg whole
again n’ lookin’ right nice I might add as she stepped up
n’ slammed me back. Her face twisted in a masque of rage as
she snarled, ‘er face right up in mine. She ‘ad me
collar again n’ slammed me against the wall once more for effect
I imagined. Like I needed that.
“You die, Constantine!”
Her icy hands planted on me cheeks, pressing in. Squeezing.
I heard the blood rushing in me ears as ‘er thumbs drifted to me
eyes. She raised me off the floor, stretchin’ me neck as I
tried to struggle n’ kick. I grabbed at ‘er arms, but
they were like girders as she easily ‘eld me in place, savoring
the moment.
“Goodbye, Constantine,” she hissed. “Burn in
– “
I felt something thick and hot splatter in me face as the pressure
suddenly eased. All at once I was on the floor, me face
burnin’ with whatever Mary ‘ad spat out, me skin actually
sizzling. I wiped a hand across me cheek, easing that pain, but
transferring it to me already abused hand, whatever it was eatin’
right into the infection of the open, sickly gash. I winced,
feelin’ me stomach churn as I looked up.
Queen Mary still stood above me, but only just. Her eyes were
huge from shock n’ pain, her mouth flapping as she clutched at
the shaft of wood that was thrust through her chest. Blood was
oozing out of the wound, making the wood smolder and sizzling as it
dripped onto the floor. I gagged, coughin’ as the stench of
dead, burnin’ flesh washed over me.
I saw Mary stagger back, and much t’ me surprise, saw April May
on the other end of the spear that had stabbed Mary’s cold, black
heart. April was forcin’ Mary back, the Vampire fighting
but losing ground as ‘er body locked up and torpor set in.
It was a common myth – and I blame Christopher Lee – that a
stake through the heart kills a Vampire. Well, it can, if the
stake is oak, n’ blessed, n’ soaked in Holy Water.
What happens though is that for some reason the stake simply shuts down
the Vampire’s autonomic reflexes, like our own breathing.
The Undead thus pierced drops off into the deep sleep of Torpor.
They’re helpless of course, until the stake is removed, n’
then’s the time t’ kill ‘em. Cut off the head,
stuff it n’ the body with garlic (why I don’t ‘ave a
clue) n’ then burn both halves in separate fires, hopefully with
a priest settin’ the blaze n’ preachin’ till the last
ember dies. Then bury one pile a’ ash n’ scatter the
rest over a river, preferably right near the ocean. And
that’s how you kill a Vampire.
I could see Mary freezing up as April kept shoving back, stopping only
when they hit the far wall. Mary squealed at the abrupt stop, but
April jus’ kept grindin’ the spear up and down, round
n’ round, makin’ the wound bigger. Blood was gushing
out now, and Mary was vomiting as, miraculously she seemed t’ be
dying. Really dying…
I was on me last legs, but curiosity got the better n’ I forced
meself t’ squint. I SAW somethin’ dark n’
ancient swirling ‘bout the spear. It seemed thick, almost
alive in the way it moved n’ I shivered. I could sense that
it, and the shaft of wood were ancient n’ linked somehow.
An Artifact?
Where the bloody ‘ell did April get that from?
Agg’rath…
“Aw, fuck…”
The room exploded as the darkness enveloped us, everything. I
slammed up against the wall as a mighty wind rose up, swirling through
the doorway n’ ripping the tiny room apart with its cyclonic
force. I heard Mary’s scream, her eyes the only spot of
garish light strong enough to pierce the dark, wide and blazing
scarlet. There was laughter too, like Darth Vader on steroids and
even with all of that I could hear April gasping for breath like she
was havin’ the best orgasm of ‘er life. And maybe she
was.
And jus’ like that – after an eternity mind – it
stopped.
I slumped to the floor, barely conscious, me ‘eart hammering in
me chest as I gasped for breath. I slammed me bad ‘and
against the floor, tryin’ t’ stay conscious with the pain
shooting through me, tryin’ to see what ‘ad ‘appened,
n’ what was left.
Poor Norton ‘ad been tossed back into the room’s corner,
‘alf wrapped up in the ratty mattress that ‘ad been me bed
the past few days. Seemed all the shit that ‘ad been
gatherin’ on the floor; refuse n’ offal alike ‘ad
been shoved up in the heap that was Norton. Sorry, pal.
The only thing standin’ n’ jus’ barely was April
May. She was heaving, spittin’ something vile n’ dark
from ‘er lungs n’ leanin’ on the staff for
support. It seemed just a stick now, that thing. Whatever
it had been, and whatever had been within it was gone. I hoped
that it wasn’t in April, whatever it was.
Mary, Queen of the Vampyr, Mistress of the Undead was just a dark smear
smoldering on the otherwise grimy stone floor. Dead n’
gone…
When I focused again, April was standing over me. She was looking
me over, grinning slightly and looking way better n’ a girl a
quarter me age ‘ad a right t’ look. She ‘ad one
‘and restin’ on ‘er hip, the other clutching the
staff of ash – I could see it now for what it was –
supporting her weight n’ keeping ‘er on ‘er
feet. Her clothes were soaked in blood, but she looked none the
worse for wear, just tired.
“It’s been fun, old man,” she said with a
smile. Her free hand went to her belly, cupping it fondly,
rubbing it gently. “I’ll think about you all the
time. Every kick n’ shuffle. And after the
baby’s born, I’ll tell ‘er ‘bout ‘er Da,
the shit head bastard name a’ John Constantine.”
April grasped the ashen staff in both hands n’ for just a moment
I thought she was going t’ drive it through my heart as
well. She hesitated though, n’ it almost seemed like she
was listening to someone…
I was about t’ say somethin’ wise n’ profound, I
forget exactly what, when April’s boot heel slammed against me
face n’ the world went black…
I dunno how long I lay there oblivious. When I opened me eyes
though, the only thing that ‘ad changed was that April May was
gone.
There was no sense of time there in me little room under the streets of
London, lost in the tunnels. I lay there until I was ready, until
I ‘ad the strength t’ try n’ get up off me
arse. It took awhile.
Me first instinct was to stagger on out of that place, but I
hesitated. I looked back at poor Norton n’ finally shambled
over to where he lay. He ‘ad tried to help me after all,
n’ though I didn’t ‘ave the strength t’ carry
‘im out, the very least I could do was call the proper
authorities once I got top side again t’ go get ‘im.
I pulled ‘is body from the heap a’ refuse and laid
‘im out as best and proper as I could given the
circumstance. I closed ‘is eyes and rifled ‘is
pockets. I was lookin’ for ‘is wallet, damn
you. Get your mind outta the gutter.
I found that, and half a pack of Marlboros. Not me brand, but
beggars n’ choosers. And a Zippo t’ boot. Bless
you Norton. I pocketed ‘is wallet n’ quickly sparked
a fag.
There was a god after all…
I dunno how long I wandered the tunnels before I found me way out.
Like I said, there’s a labyrinth beneath London n’ most of
the surroundings. A man could easily get lost down under,
walkin’ in circles forever n’ endin’ up Neverwhere. There’s a
lot of shit what goes on down in the maze under the city. A lot
of doors that lead to other places, none of which I was in the mood
t’ visit right then. I wandered on, following instinct
n’ me nose for the most part.
I ‘eard things rumblin’ in the distance that I tried
t’ convince meself was the Tubes.
I felt eyes on me with every step, n’ blamed the rats. They
knew their Mistress was dead. Wasn’t me of course, but they
didn’t know that. I was so weak though that I’d go
down in an army a’ vermin if they so chose t’ make a
case. Luckily they let me pass.
I found a stairway eventually; an old and wrought iron thing that was
left over from the last two centuries. It led up though, n’
slowly I started t’ climb. One step at a time…
I came out in Picadilly, givin’ the populace a right good scare
as I heaved open the grating n’ staggered out into the
Circus. The people gave me a wide berth as I shambled about,
slammin’ down the grating so’s no tourist would go
fallin’ down into oblivion. With the resounding
‘CLANG’ I finally sagged.
That was over, ‘least for now. I sniffed, looking at the
onlookers.
Center of attention I was, n’ no wonder. I’d
jus’ crawled outta the bowels of the Earth, covered in blood
n’ lookin’ like death warmed over. I was starving,
pallid n’ pale, skin n’ bones n’ probably
smellin’ of shit n’ piss at the very least.
I dipped a hand into the pocket of me coat n’ flicked a fag from
the pack, into me chapped lips. Me ‘ands were shakin’
somethin’ fierce as I sparked Norton’s lighter, the
flickering flame hard-pressed to burn the tip a’ the fag. I
got it lit though, finally flipping the lid shut n’
slippin’ the Zippo back into me coat as I took a long, hard
drag. I was free again, and alive.
Again…
Score one more for the bastard: John Constantine.
I laughed as the crowd of gawkers finally moved on, as did I. I
staggered towards home.
