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The storefront had been empty for six months a narrow slice of real estate wedged between a bodega and a psychic's parlor in Greenwich Village. The previous tenant had been a used bookstore that went under when the rent tripled. Now, at three in the morning, John Constantine stood before the dusty windows with a ring of keys and something approximating a plan.
"You're certain about this?" Strange materialized beside him, the Sorcerer Supreme's astral form flickering in the streetlight. "Establishing a fixed location makes you... visible."
"That's the point." Constantine unlocked the door three deadbolts and a chain that wouldn't stop any demon worth its salt. "I'm tired of chasing leads through back alleys and demon clubs. Time to let the work come to me."
Inside, the space was exactly as depressing as he'd expected. Dust coated every surface. Water stains bloomed across the ceiling. The back room smelled like something had died there possibly several somethings. But the bones were good. High ceilings. Original woodwork. And most importantly, the building sat on a convergence point of ley lines, making it naturally resistant to most supernatural interference.
"The lease is under a shell corporation I've established," Strange said, watching Constantine survey the space. "Rent paid six months in advance. Utilities connected. I've also filed the appropriate paperwork with the city's supernatural registry."
Constantine paused. "There's a registry?"
"You really should pay more attention during briefings." Strange's astral form drifted through a wall, examining the structure. "Any business dealing with mystical matters must register with the Department of Occult Affairs. It's a subdivision of SHIELD, technically, though they operate with relative autonomy."
"Bloody bureaucracy." Constantine lit a Silk Cut, already planning where to put his desk. "What's next, permits for exorcisms?"
"Actually, yes. Class-Three supernatural interventions require prior authorization unless lives are in immediate danger."
Constantine laughed a sharp, bitter sound. "This reality is insane."
"This reality is organized." Strange's tone held amusement. "You're used to operating in chaos, John. Here, we've learned that structure prevents catastrophes. Most of the time."
Over the next three hours, they worked to make the space habitable. Strange provided mystical assistance vanishing years of grime with a gesture, repairing the ceiling with a word of power, reinforcing the walls with protective wards that shimmered gold before fading from sight. Constantine contributed the practical touches: a desk salvaged from a condemned building, filing cabinets that he'd "borrowed" from a demon hoarder last week, chairs that didn't match but were surprisingly comfortable.
By dawn, the space had transformed. Not beautiful, but functional. The front room served as an office desk facing the door, chairs for clients, filing cabinets against one wall. A coffee maker sat on a side table, already brewing. The back room became Constantine's workshop shelves for mystical texts, a workbench for ritual preparations, storage for the various occult implements he'd been accumulating.
"One last thing." Strange produced a wooden sign, elegantly carved with lettering that seemed to shift depending on the viewer's angle. To Constantine, it read:Â Constantine Investigations - Supernatural Solutions. "Hang this in the window. The enchantment will translate the text to whatever language the reader understands and adjust the phrasing to seem appropriate to their cultural context."
"Fancy." Constantine took the sign, running his fingers over the smooth wood. "You've put a lot of thought into this."
"I believe in your potential." Strange's astral form solidified slightly, making the statement feel more substantial. "This world needs people like you, John. People willing to handle the cases that fall through the cracks. The supernatural community has organizations and councils, but they're political entities. They move slowly, carefully. You don't."
"Is that a compliment or a warning?"
"Both." Strange smiled faintly. "I've arranged for word to spread through appropriate channels. You'll have clients by tomorrow, I suspect. Try not to alienate them all immediately."
"No promises."
After Strange departed, Constantine hung the sign in the window and stood back to admire his work. His own detective agency. After years of freelancing, conning, surviving by his wits and the skin of his teeth, he had something resembling legitimacy.
The thought was terrifying.
He locked up and walked back to the safehouse as the city woke around him. Street vendors setting up carts. Early commuters hurrying toward subway stations. Delivery trucks unloading supplies. Normal people living normal lives, completely unaware of the supernatural ecosystem operating in the shadows.
That was who he'd serve now. The people who stumbled into darkness through no fault of their own and needed someone to guide them back.
It was almost noble.
Constantine hated how good that felt.
He slept for four hours, then returned to the office at noon. Someone had slipped an envelope under the door heavy paper, sealed with red wax. Constantine picked it up warily, checking for curses or hexes. Clean.
The card inside was simple:Â Congratulations on your new venture. The community welcomes you. - Council of Shadows
"Great," Constantine muttered. "Official notice from the supernatural mafia."
But it was a good sign. If the council acknowledged his agency, he'd have less trouble from established powers. Probably. Maybe. Hell, he'd deal with politics when it became unavoidable.
He spent the afternoon organizing filing away notes from previous cases, cataloguing his mystical library, setting up basic security measures. Not just wards, but mundane precautions too. Camera above the door. Panic button under the desk. Escape route through the back room that led to the sewers. Paranoia was a survival trait in his line of work.
At precisely three o'clock, the bell above the door chimed.
Constantine looked up from his filing to see a woman entering mid-twenties, white, with dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. She wore jeans, a leather jacket, and an expression of barely controlled desperation. But it was her eyes that caught his attention. They glowed faintly yellow, like a cat's in headlights.
"Are you Constantine?" Her voice trembled. "Please tell me you're Constantine."
He gestured to one of the chairs. "That's what the sign says. You are?"
"Sarah Chen." She sat, hands clasped tight in her lap. "I... I need help. Strange things have been happening. Impossible things. And I think I'm going crazy or... or worse."
Constantine pulled out a notepad, clicking his pen. "Start at the beginning. When did the strange things start?"
"Three weeks ago." Sarah's hands twisted together. "I woke up and my bedroom was on fire. Not normal fire it was black. Like burning shadows. And I wasn't hurt. The flames just... danced around me. Then they vanished."
"Mutant manifestation," Constantine said. "Not uncommon. Powers emerging under stress or "
"That's what I thought." Sarah interrupted. "My cousin's a mutant. Ice manipulation. She helped me find a specialist, got me tested at a clinic that understands these things. But the results were..." She pulled out a folder, hands shaking. "They said my X-gene shows unusual activity. That something else is influencing it. Something that shouldn't be there."
Constantine took the folder, scanning the medical reports. Technical jargon, genetic markers, energy signatures. But one line stood out:Â Anomalous external influence detected. Possible supernatural contamination. Recommend specialist consultation.
"Did they say what kind of influence?" He looked up at her glowing eyes. They pulsed brighter when she was anxious, he noticed.
"Demonic." Sarah's voice broke on the word. "They think a demon is... attached to me somehow. Warping my powers. Making me dangerous."
Constantine set down the folder and really looked at her. Beyond the obvious the glowing eyes, the trembling hands he let his magical sight activate. The world shifted, colors deepening, hidden patterns emerging.
And there it was.
Wrapped around Sarah's aura like a parasitic vine was something dark and pulsing. Not a full demon more like a demonic taint, a fragment of infernal essence that had bonded with her X-gene somehow. It fed on her fear, her stress, growing stronger as her emotional state deteriorated.
"Bloody hell," Constantine muttered.
"That bad?" Sarah's eyes widened.
"Bad, but not hopeless." Constantine stood, moving to his workshop. "You've got what we call a spiritual parasite. Something demonic latched onto you probably during a moment of trauma or extreme emotion. Your mutant powers manifested at the same time, and the demon essence bonded with them. Now they're tangled together."
"Can you separate them?" Sarah followed him to the workshop doorway. "Without killing me?"
"That's the plan." Constantine pulled ingredients from his shelves salt, sage, a vial of holy water, chalk for ritual circles. "This kind of extraction is delicate. If done wrong, I could damage your powers permanently or leave the demon fragment behind to grow stronger. But I've done it before. Different reality, same principles."
"How long will it take?"
Constantine checked his watch. "The ritual itself? Two hours. Preparation time? Another hour. You free this evening?"
Sarah nodded, tears forming in her glowing eyes. "I thought I was going to have to live with this forever. Or worse, that I'd hurt someone when the demon got too strong."
"Not on my watch." Constantine's tone was firm. "Go home. Rest if you can. Be back here at seven o'clock. Bring a change of clothes the ritual gets messy. And Sarah? Don't use your powers between now and then. Not even a little. We don't want to feed the parasite."
After she left, Constantine continued preparations. The ritual wasn't standard exorcism that would just banish the demon and probably Sarah's powers with it. Instead, he needed something more surgical. A way to untangle the demonic essence from her X-gene without damaging either.
It would require precision, power, and probably a fair amount of luck.
His mobile buzzed. A text from Danny Rand:Â Heard you opened shop. Congratulations. Dinner tomorrow to celebrate?
Constantine smiled despite himself and typed back:Â Sure. Bring Cage. And beer. I'm buying.
Another text, this one from Colleen Wing:Â Council meeting moved to tonight. Can you attend? 8 PM at the Sanctum.
Constantine cursed. The timing was terrible he'd be in the middle of Sarah's ritual. He texted back:Â Can't make it. First client. Send my apologies.
Colleen's response was immediate:Â They won't like that.
They'll survive. Have bigger problems.
He pocketed the phone and returned to his preparations. Politics could wait. Right now, a terrified young woman needed his help, and he'd be damned more damned if he let her down.
By seven o'clock, everything was ready. Constantine had cleared the center of the workshop, laying out an intricate circle of salt mixed with iron filings. At five points around the circle, he'd placed candles black for banishment, white for protection, red for vitality. In the center, a smaller circle for Sarah to sit in. Protective sigils covered every wall, insurance against the demon fragment lashing out during the extraction.
Sarah arrived exactly on time, wearing sweatpants and a tank top as instructed. Her eyes glowed brighter now the parasite sensing what was coming.
"It knows," she said quietly. "I can feel it. It's scared."
"Good." Constantine guided her to the center circle. "Fear makes it defensive. Defensive means it'll pull away from you to protect itself. That's when I can grab it."
"And if you miss?"
"I won't." Constantine lit the candles with a word of power. "Now sit. Cross-legged. Hands on your knees. This is going to hurt I won't lie about that. But the pain means it's working."
Sarah settled into position, trembling but determined. "I'm ready."
Constantine began the ritual.
The words came from three different traditions Catholic exorcism rites, Buddhist purification mantras, and older incantations from sources that predated organized religion. His voice rose and fell in complex rhythms, each syllable precisely pronounced. The candles flared brighter. The salt circle began to glow.
Sarah gasped as the demon fragment reacted. Dark tendrils erupted from her skin not physical, but visible to magical sight. They writhed and twisted, trying to dig deeper into her essence.
"Hold still!" Constantine's hands moved through intricate patterns, weaving golden light into a net. "Don't fight it. Let it thrash."
The tendrils lashed out, testing the circle's boundaries. Each time they touched the salt barrier, they recoiled, smoking. Constantine's net of golden light descended, wrapping around the demonic essence, separating it strand by strand from Sarah's aura.
She screamed.
Constantine gritted his teeth and continued. The trick was to maintain constant pressure not so much that the parasite fragmented, but enough to keep it from re-bonding. Sweat poured down his face. His arms burned with effort. This was why most practitioners avoided this kind of work. It was exhausting, dangerous, and one mistake could kill everyone in the room.
But Constantine had never backed down from difficult.
The demon fragment, realizing it was losing, tried a different tactic. It sent psychic needles into Sarah's mind, showing her visions of what it could give her power, strength, the ability to burn away anyone who ever hurt her.
"Don't listen!" Constantine barked. "It's lying. That's all demons do!"
Sarah's eyes blazed brighter, then dimmed. "I... I know. Get it out!"
The final separation required brute force. Constantine channeled every bit of power he could muster, ripping the parasite free in one violent motion. Sarah convulsed, her body arching as the demon essence tore away from her X-gene.
The fragment, now fully separated, tried to escape. It shot toward the circle's boundary, desperately seeking freedom.
Constantine was faster. He slammed the fragment into a prepared containment vessel a crystal vial etched with binding runes. The demon essence shrieked, its voice like nails on slate, as the vial sealed.
Silence fell.
Sarah collapsed forward, gasping. Her eyes no longer glowed. Instead, they were their natural brown, clear and demon-free.
"Is it..." She couldn't finish the sentence.
"Gone." Constantine sagged against his workbench, utterly drained. "You're clean. Check your powers."
Sarah held out her hand hesitantly. Flames erupted from her palm but now they were proper fire, orange and red and warm. Normal flames controlled by a mutant who'd finally been freed from corruption.
She started crying.
Constantine let her, busying himself with cleaning up the ritual space. Emotion made him uncomfortable on a good day, and today had taken everything he had.
When Sarah finally composed herself, she stood on shaky legs. "How much do I owe you?"
"First client's always free." Constantine waved her off. "Besides, I needed the practice. Different reality, remember? Good to know the techniques still work."
"I can't just "
"You can." Constantine met her eyes. "But if you want to repay me, spread the word. Tell people there's someone who can help with supernatural problems. Someone who won't judge them for being mutants or desperate or damned."
Sarah nodded, wiping her eyes. "I will. I promise."
After she left, Constantine locked the demon fragment in his mystical safe a lead box covered in wards that would contain it until he could properly dispose of it. Then he made himself a cup of truly terrible coffee and sat at his desk, staring at nothing.
His first official case. Success.
It felt good. Terrifyingly good.
His mobile buzzed. Colleen:Â Council wants to meet you tomorrow instead. 2 PM. Non-negotiable.
Constantine sighed. Back to politics. But tonight, he'd allow himself a moment of satisfaction.
He'd saved someone. Really, genuinely saved them. No hidden agenda, no manipulation, no deals with devils.
Just one magician helping one person in need.
Maybe this detective agency thing would work out after all.
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🌟 If you'd like to support me or read EARLY ACCESS Chapters, you can find me on Patreon 🌟
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