He stepped from his bedroom, massaging his arse as he clumsily pinballed between the walls of the room. He’d fallen to the floor from his floating lotus position when he disconnected from his astral self, done in such a panic that he was having difficulty reorienting himself to solid reality. “Bloody hell,” he whispered while attempting to steady himself.
What the fuck had that sod done to him?
John Constantine should have been an easy mark, but he cursed himself for going in blind without his usual plans and preparations. He’d been at Ravenscar, he’d had files in his hand, so that meant Constantine would eventually come knocking on his door. He wouldn’t get caught out again, he’d be ready next time. He burst through the doorway of his bedroom and stalked down the corridor of the large home, his anger rising with each step.
“Bloody interloper, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong,” he mumbled as he opened the door to an adjacent room, revealing a staircase that descended into pitch darkness. He continued his whispered complaints as he made his way down, and when he reached the bottom of the flight he reached his hand up. Quickly finding the chain he pulled down forcefully, clicking on the overhead light that was left to swing from the jerk of the chain pull.
“Hello, Cecilia,” he said to the woman strapped into the examination chair, bound at the wrists and ankles by electrical tape, complemented by a ball gag strapped across her face. She could only whimper in response as he stormed into the room like a gale wind, knocking things off the metal tray stands as he whipped around the room in a frenzy.
“I had planned on taking this slow,” he said as he pulled out the power drill, “because I always liked you, Cecilia. My hand is being forced, he’s going to be coming soon and I don’t want you getting hurt in the crossfire.”
She closed her eyes, tears streaming down as he jerked her head back by her hair and placed the drill bit against her forehead. “Don’t worry,” he said before pulling the trigger on the drill, “I’m a doctor.”
What the fuck had that sod done to him?
John Constantine should have been an easy mark, but he cursed himself for going in blind without his usual plans and preparations. He’d been at Ravenscar, he’d had files in his hand, so that meant Constantine would eventually come knocking on his door. He wouldn’t get caught out again, he’d be ready next time. He burst through the doorway of his bedroom and stalked down the corridor of the large home, his anger rising with each step.
“Bloody interloper, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong,” he mumbled as he opened the door to an adjacent room, revealing a staircase that descended into pitch darkness. He continued his whispered complaints as he made his way down, and when he reached the bottom of the flight he reached his hand up. Quickly finding the chain he pulled down forcefully, clicking on the overhead light that was left to swing from the jerk of the chain pull.
“Hello, Cecilia,” he said to the woman strapped into the examination chair, bound at the wrists and ankles by electrical tape, complemented by a ball gag strapped across her face. She could only whimper in response as he stormed into the room like a gale wind, knocking things off the metal tray stands as he whipped around the room in a frenzy.
“I had planned on taking this slow,” he said as he pulled out the power drill, “because I always liked you, Cecilia. My hand is being forced, he’s going to be coming soon and I don’t want you getting hurt in the crossfire.”
She closed her eyes, tears streaming down as he jerked her head back by her hair and placed the drill bit against her forehead. “Don’t worry,” he said before pulling the trigger on the drill, “I’m a doctor.”
ISSUE #2 (December 2018)
Written by Chris Munn Featuring: John Constantine
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"THE STONE OF MADNESS"
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