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There are three rules to being a Constantine that one has to learn very early.
- Don't make friends, they'll die
- Don't fall in love, they'll die horribly
- Don't try and escape, it will follow you
That said Johanna had never been very good at following rules. Especially not the second one. The third one was never really a problem, where was she going to escape to?
Sometimes, however, you enter a charity tombola and win an all expenses paid trip to New York and you think what the fuck? Why not? Then, sometimes, you get about five hours into your stay before you get a call from one of your American contacts about missing people at the Theatre Royale two blocks away along with the usual signs of demonic interference. You have to wonder if the fates think they're funny.
Johanna stood outside the theatre, closed at the moment, and wondered if she had time to grab dinner before this all started. There had been that thai place on the way here. When had she last had thai anyway? If this was her sort of job she wouldn't want to do it on an empty stomach. How much of a difference would it make if she took twenty minutes?
"Um, Hi?" An American (shocker that) voice pulled her back from her important contemplation. "Do you work here?" Walking up the street towards her was a young woman with locked hair, a few dyed in rainbow colours.
Johanna sighed. Witnesses meant she probably shouldn't skip out for dinner.
"Do I look like I work in theatre?" Johanna asked by way of reply.
The woman shrugged. "I was just- I'm looking for my friend? He hasn't been home in a few days and-"
Sighing, Johanna's shoulders sagged. "Yeah alright, who is he?"
If the woman was confused by her reaction, she didn't show it. "Hal Carter. He's about this tall, older than me, black and white comb over?"
"I'll keep an eye out." Time to do this, she stepped forward but the young woman moved with her.
"Are you police?" she asked.
"Ha! No."
"But you're investigating?"
"It's my job."
"Are you a private investigator?"
Johanna crossed her arms, wondering whether her patience had improved or worsened over time. "Yes. I'm called in when it's weird shit too much for the police. Alright? Now are we gonna carry on having this conversation or am I going to do my job?"
There was a pause as the young woman looked up at the theatre then back. Johanna could already see the next question forming and internally groaned.
"Let me help you."
"No." Johanna strode forward to the door as the young woman blinked in surprise before running after her.
"If my friend's in trouble I want to help."
Johanna let go of the handle and turned back. "What's your name?"
"Rose Walker."
"You got family, Rose Walker?"
She nodded.
"Then go home to them. Whatever's in there-" She pointed into the darkness beyond the door "- it's not for people like you. Go away, live a normal life, leave this shit for people like me." The chances of this actually working were slim but she had to try for fuck's sake.
Rose's features hardened resolutely. "I've faced serial killers and nightmares before."
Well that was new.
"Nightmares, huh?" Fuck it. "Alright, it's your bloody funeral. Just stay behind me."
"Wait what's your name?"
"Johanna," she said, "Johanna Constantine."
As soon as they entered the smell washed over them. Rose coughed and covered her nose in disgust.
"What is that?"
"Sulphur." Rose looked mildly alarmed and Johanna pulled a face. Definitely demons then. No chance this was all a big misunderstanding.
Motioning to stay behind her, Johanna carefully entered further into the atrium. It was pitch black, darker than it should have been for an early summer evening. No screaming though, that was a good sign. Though there was… She tilted her head to one side, listening intently.
"Do you hear that?" she whispered.
"It sounds like music," Rose said. "Singing… I know that voice. That's Hal."
"Oh this is going to be weird," Johanna muttered but continued on. They followed the sound to the main stage where thousands of empty seats stared down at a handful of people illuminated by blaring lights. At the front of a stage was a man like the one Rose had described and behind him were half a dozen more. It was difficult to see from this distance but they seemed to droop and sway, like they could barely keep themselves standing.
Rose gasped.
Turning to shush her, Johanna's eyes landed on what Rose had seen. A police officer was sprawled across the floor, neck snapped and eyes staring, unseeing. Peering over the seats, she could see more littering the floor. No back up then. Not that there ever was any.
The song on stage ended and Hal almost fell over. There was a clapping from the front row where Johanna could vaguely make out a humanoid figure. From somewhere above, the lights changed and all the actors suddenly stepped forward to begin a jaunty ensemble piece. Oh this was going to stand out.
"I need to get closer," Johanna whispered. "You go find the backstage, when this kicks off, get the actors to safety."
Rose nodded, eyes on her friend. "I can do that."
Alright, show time. As Rose snuck back the way they'd come, Johanna crept forward trying very hard not to step on any corpses. It was harder than she'd hoped and not all of them were police. Looked like anyone who'd interrupted had been punished. Demons were always so extreme; even ones who liked theatre apparently.
Stopping at the row second from the front, she crouched down behind a seat. The demon was in the body of a young man, happily dancing in his seat to the music. Oh this was going to suck.
Getting to her feet, she cleared her throat, "Da locum-" She was cut off almost immediately as the demon's head spun towards her. The face contorted. On stage the actors screamed as their own hands seized them by the throat.
"One more word," the demon hissed, "and they break their own necks."
Johanna raised her hands. "Alright, mate, calm down."
"I just want to enjoy the music," the demon spat, stalking towards her. "Everyone keeps getting in my way. I just want to hear the music ."
"Music in hell not your thing?" she asked, taking a few steps away. Movement above the stage caught her attention but she forced herself not to look. "Let me guess, screamo?"
The demon snarled and lunged for her. Dodging out of the way, she vaulted over the seats. Sprinting towards the stage, her eyes searched the actors for something, anything. A sigil, a token? Anything that might break the connection.
Hitting the stage, she spun around. The demon bounded after her, twisting its human host to run on all fours. She held out a hand, a different incantation forming on her lips. It jumped-
With a tremendous crash, one of the stage lights fell and smashed into the demon. The actors on stage immediately collapsed into groaning heaps and Johanna looked up to see Rose clinging to the poles with a pair of bolt cutters in hand.
"That's not backstage!" Johanna yelled.
Rose began to speak but then her grip slipped and she clung on again, eyes wide. "Just hang on! Let me deal with this and I'll get you a ladder."
"Thank you!" she squeaked.
Shaking her head, Johanna approached the slightly broken demon pinned to the ground. One exorcism and a ladder search later, Johanna and Rose herded the exhausted and terrified actors away from the carnage.
Hal basically attached himself to Rose's side and refused to let go. "I thought I was going to die," he said before leaning in. "At least I got an encore."
Johanna rolled her eyes. She would never understand Americans.
*
The theatre was dark. So very, very dark. Darker than blood, darker than shadows, darker than the place in her mind where she locked away the past. In that dark was the cold. The kind of cold that crept into bones and lungs and breath. The kind of cold that took root deep inside you and would not be shifted. It was the cold of dead flesh clinging to you.
The theatre was gone and she was in a desert of black sand.
A figure formed out of the sand before her. Impossibly tall and pale with eyes of burning starlight blaring from an unseen face.
Johanna squinted against the sudden light. She held up a hand to block it out. The light got brighter.
"Constantine," a voice whispered from all around. A familiar voice where had she heard it before? "I grant you a boon and you dare to do this?"
Something clicked in her head and she frowned.
"Take it you got your stuff back, King of Dreams."
The light dimmed and he was directly in front of her. And he was furious.
"Look, I don't know what I-"
"You endangered my family." His voice was low and everywhere even as the mouth she saw moved.
"What? No I didn't. I haven't been anywhere near you or the bloody endless. You're more trouble than you're worth."
This did not satisfy him and she found herself growing smaller or was he growing taller? Fear gnawed at her insides like a starving rat. How long had she kept the horrors of her past buried? How long before they consumed her?
"Rose Walker is a child of the Endless," the Sandman said. "Threaten her life again in any way and you will be begging for your old nightmares."
The black sand swallowed her whole.
*
Waking with a start, Johanna stumbled out of her chair. Bright, clinical lights burned her eyes and for a moment all she could see was the terrifying star eyes that had blinded her.
"Johanna!" Blearily she looked up at Rose who was leaning over her, face plastered with worry. "Are you okay?"
"Yup." Getting to her feet, she glanced around. Right, they were in the hospital waiting room. Rose had persuaded her to stay while the actors got checked over, something about being thanked properly.
Finding her seat again, she sat down heavily. Rose remained standing. "Could have mentioned you knew the bloody Sandman."
"Oh." Rose sat beside her. "Sorry, he's… sort of my uncle? I guess. My Grandmother's father was one of his siblings. I'm not sure on the specifics."
"Course not," Johanna said. "Well, I think I got the shovel talk already. Wanna get a drink after this?" It was mostly a joke.
Rose laughed in surprise but she didn't say no.