(Little note from the author here, I've decide to change POV from 1st person to 3rd person. I hope readers don't mind, but I'm still learning my writing style and figuring out how to be the best I can be. With that being said. I'll likely change the previous chapters to fit 3rd person as well. Anyway, excuse my little rant and enjoy the story.)
Calvin walked up the steps of the house of mystery, the seemingly old wood creaking under his weight as his fist reached out and knocked on the rotting wood of the door….
Nothing, no response… gaining a bit of a agitated look, Calvin knocked yet again… and again still until finnaly, a man, somewhere from 30-40 years old, swung open the door. He wore a white blazer with a red tie, which would usually be under his brown trench coat. Completed with black slacks and what could be described as 'church shoes.' The man scratched his yellow stubble, his blonde hair slicked back in a messy tangle, his blue, slightly glazed over eyes narrowing on Calvin with intensity as he raised a bottle to his lips. "Who the bloody hell are you mate?"
Calvin faltered for a moment, unsure of how to introduce himself. He eventually just stuck his hand out in a greeting, "I'm Calvin…" Constantine, however, look majorly unimpressed. "Yeah, well, I don't care. Now get the fuck off my doorstep, ya bloody wanker." Before Calvin knew it, the door was slammed in his face, and Calvin was simply at a loss of words. Slowly, he knocked again, Constantine ignoring him until Calvin's fith attempt, where he swung the door open again, enraged. "Jesus mate! What the bloody hell to you wan-" before he could finish, Constantine was socked in the nose, falling backwards as the bottle tumbled from his hand and shattering against the wood floor.
Constantine wiped the bit of blood from his nose, eyeing the bottle as he stood up "what a perfectly fine waste of Ardbeg…" he groaned as he raised his fists, prepared for a fight. Calvin however, raised his hands, calming the tension. "I'm not looking for a fight… that was just for being a dick." Constantine looked annoyed, not surprised, But simply annoyed. "I'm probably going to regret this… but why are you here?" He sighed, rubbing his bruised nose. "To learn…" Constantine looke genuinely confused at that. "What do you mean 'learn?' I ain't exactly a teacher." Calvin shifted his weight, making room for Ryder who had eventually gathered enough courage himself to go with his owner. "I know… but… I kind of need so help…"
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A few minutes later
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Calvin now sat on a old, leather couch in a room with antique furniture and many bookshelves, the smell something between lavender and a rotting body, considering that the room was littered with beer bottles. Constantine himself was sitting on a adjacent couch, smoking the last cigarette from its pack, Calvin eyeing him with a 'really?' expression since he secretly knew Constantine had stage 4 lung cancer. Ignoring Calvin's gaze, Constantine took a drag and rubbed his temples, overwhelmed with the sheer bullshit-level of the situation. "So… for some reason you can't disclose, you need to kill a shitload of demons?… and you figured I was someone who… had what you needed to do so?"
"Correct…" Calvin confirmed, "you know more about demons than anyone else I know… or at least anyone else I can actually contact… so do you think you can do it? Train me I mean." Constantine flicked some ash into a ashtray, taking another drag as he stared at Calvin with a serious expression… "no." Calvin laughed… and then went silent realizing it wasn't a joke as Constantine stood up and left to another room. "What do you mean 'no?'" Calvin followed after him, Ryder trailing along as well. "No…" Constantine repeated, grabbing yet another bottle from a shelf, "not my monkeys, not my circus." With a pop, the bottles top came off as he downed a large gulp. Calvin panicked, he needed Constantine to train him, without him, Calvin didn't stand a chance… so he took a risk. "I know a way for you to get to heaven…" Constantine stoped in his tracks, bottle halfway raised only for it to fall to his side, turning his head slightly as he looks at Calvin over his shoulder. "Bullshit…"
Calvin shakes his head, not saying anything, enough having passed through the moments of silence. "How the hell do you even know I'm looking for a way into heaven?… or is that 'some reason you can't disclose' as well?" Calvin's silence earned only a scoff from Constantine, who turned and leaned against a counter… With a deep sigh, Constantine set the bottle down and sunk into his thoughts… Calvin's was right of course, he does know a way for John to get to heaven, but the question is 'will John believe him enough to train him?' Silence reigned once again, the air thick with tension as Constantine sighs one last time before turning and looking at Calvin. "Alright mate… but not because of some bullshit deal about me going to heaven… but because you seem to know a hell of a lot more than you should… And you know what they say; 'keep your freinds close, and your enemies close enough to stab.'" Constantine reached his hand out and Calvin stood there, suspicious before eventually shaking his hand. "Deal… but, I'm pretty sure that's not how that saying goes…"
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Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry this one was a little late, got sidetracked during the writing process. So it's trivia time, can anybody guess Calvin's way for Constantine to go to heaven?