Chapter 2-the gates of hell
I was once again in the Black Room, nursing another glass of whiskey. Keller and Red Wolf sat across from me — both looking about as tired as I felt. The wards and seals down in Texas had been anticlimactic. I thought we'd face a few demons, maybe an eldritch tantrum or two. Instead, the local Native super-soldier handled the mess before we even unpacked.
At least we came back with two new batteries — metaphysically speaking.
We were trying to map out a plan for the Gates of Hell when the air in the bar thickened. Conversation died mid-sentence, laughter faded, and every head turned toward the entrance.
He was there — same tailored suit, same smug grin. The devil himself.
Mephisto.
I instinctively lit a cigarette. Because if the King of Hell shows up, you either pray, run, or smoke. And I was never one for religion or cardio.
"Well, if it isn't Constantine," Mephisto purred. "Earth's favorite cigarette advertisement — branching out into the whiskey market, I see."
Red Wolf tensed, his body coiling like a drawn bow. Keller drew his sidearm and aimed.
I sighed, lowering Keller's gun. "Mate, what the hell's that gonna do? Pinch him?"
"Im simply degeneracy given flesh" I turned to the devil
Mephisto's grin widened. "You do wear it well, John — though that coat is quite the relic."
"Sorry," I said, exhaling a plume of smoke, "I was never given your name. You look like the kind of bloke who collects souls for a living."
"I do dabble," he said smoothly. "Mephistopheles, at your service. But you knew that already."
"So what do you want, Mephisto? Here for my soul? Keller's? Because I'm fairly certain you're not here for a friendly drink."
He chuckled, the sound low and serpentine. "Straight to business — my favorite dialect. I'm here to offer information, Eli. Or do you still prefer John?"
"Eli. John's long gone." I said with a stone face but internally I was shiting bricks
Before I could say more, Loki — who'd been eavesdropping at the next booth — lifted his glass. "You can bet your left testicle," he drawled, "that when the Devil comes bearing gifts, it comes with an invoice in blood."
"Silence, Asgardian," Mephisto hissed, flicking a hand. Loki's drink began to boil violently, but the trickster god merely blew a frosty breath over it, cooling it instantly before sipping again.
"I'll pass," Loki said. "I can't stomach the smell of sulfur in the morning."
Mephisto smirked. As he turned to Keller
"Constantine!" Keller shouted. "What's the plan?"
"dont worry priest im not here for your plans on resealing the gates of hell."
"This might be a fight for our lives," Red Wolf warned.
"Just sit still," I said. "We're in the Black Room."
Mephisto's eyes gleamed like burning coals. "Indeed you are, Eli. You know you're not the first to wear Constantine's skin and soul — but you are the first to remember how to fight. The chaos inside you is a beacon and something far older has noticed, something that doesn't take kindly to those who don't belong."
His grin sharpened. "As a bonus — a cherry on top — some of your fragments have gathered for a great ritual."
"Fragments?" I asked.
"For what purpose?" Red Wolf growled.
Mephisto's voice turned velvety. "That's for you to find out."
"And where?"He smirked. "Now that would cost a fee."
Keller twitched. "How the hell do you know all this?"
The devil's grin widened. "It's fun reading mortal minds. Especially godless priests. Isn't that right, Agent Keller?"
I sighed. "This could be worse," I muttered. "Could be sleeping on a sunlit sidewalk."
"Thanks for the info," I said aloud, "but what's in it for you?"
"Maybe something magical might happen," he said — and vanished. No smoke. No portal. No dramatic flourish. Just gone.
Keller stared. "What the fuck was that?"
"Hell," I said simply.
"May Owayodata guide us," murmured Red Wolf.
"Speak it, Wolf."
And just like that, the bar went back to normal — laughter, clinking glasses, the low hum of music. But in everyone's minds lingered the same thought: Mephisto had come here, and what he'd said was a recipe for disaster.
I ordered another drink — my fifth — and inhaled another slick-cut cigarette as Loki slid onto the stool beside me.
"Ah, mortals and their carcinogens," he mused. "Such quaint way to flirt with death."
"Is this foreplay," I said, "or are you always this friendly, Loki?"
"Depends," he said, smirking. "You buying the next round?
keller spoke i..is.. that
Before Keller could finish, I sighed. "Yes, that's Loki. God of Mischief. He looks like Tom Hiddleston, but dresses like a wolf stole from a Renaissance fair."
Seeing my expression, Loki raised his glass. "Since the Devil has found his conscience, I too shall be charitable."
"What's the truth, Mischief?"
"Pet names already?" he teased. "You mortals move fast."
"Enough games."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Your fragments — they're at the 'H.'"
"The what—?" Keller began.
"The H in Hollywood," I said grimly.
"Bingo," Loki sang. "And with that, Midgard is saved — all thanks to Constantine and his merry band of misfits what were they again oh yes wand."as Loki finished Kellers was wide eyed again.
"Why help me?" I asked.
Loki smiled, sharp and bright. "Because chaos is a dish best served to someone else."
Keller finally spoke up. "You know about W.A.N.D.?"
Loki chuckled, swirling his drink. "Of course I do. I helped start the bloody thing."
That earned him a look from both of us.
He leaned in conspiratorially. "Long ago, before your agency learned how to spell acronyms, I lost a bet. A card game, actually. Played with a mortal who claimed to be a magician. I cheated — naturally — and still lost."
I raised a brow. "That's impressive."
"Oh, it was infuriating," Loki said. "So I decided to return the favor. I wove a few rituals while I returned home. Little enchantments to bring the poor fool misfortune — broken mirrors, cursed dice, lovers turning into cats. Delightful chaos. I wanted to watch him crumble."
He sipped his drink, satisfied. "But then I got… attached. His descendants amused me. Each generation a little more unhinged, a little more gifted. Eventually, one of them ended up leading S.H.I.E.L.D.'s new 'occult research division.' Your precious W.A.N.D."
Keller's eyes widened. "The first Director… was a descendant?"
"Indeed. He thought the family's talent for attracting calamity was divine inheritance. I never corrected him."
I laughed under my breath. "You cursed a bloodline and accidentally built a government agency. That's peak Loki."
He raised his glass in salute. "Accidents are simply pranks that overachieved."
Keller frowned. "And you just stopped?"
Loki smirked. "I grew bored. Besides, mortals started worshiping data instead of demons. Where's the fun in that?"
The mischief in his eyes shifted, sharp as a blade. "But now… the air tastes different. The Black Room stirs. The walls between realms grow thin again. I smell Constantine's magic—raw, reckless, and irritatingly familiar."
He handed me a jagged piece of mirror. "What's this?"
"Trust me," he said, "you'll need it." Then he vanished in a shimmer of green.
I looked down at the shard. All I saw was my reflection — cracked and doubled. House of broken mirrors, I thought. The universe definitely had a sense of humor.
We sat there in silence.
Finally, Keller said quietly, "You think he's telling the truth?"
"About the H? Probably. About anything else?" I smirked. "Never."
The night air was thick with sulfur and static. The giant white letter loomed above us, half-shattered, surrounded by flickering sigils. My fragments — echoes of myself, twisted by the multiverse — stood in a circle, chanting. Each one looked like me, but worse.
Keller checked his gun. "Bullets aren't gonna cut it, are they?"
"Not yet," I said, tracing a rune in the air. "But they will."
I touched the barrel, whispering words older than sin. The runes burned briefly blue, then gold.
"Now it'll sting demons," I said. "And make angels flinch."
Red Wolf grinned. "And us?"
I handed him a a barrier talisman
"Try not to get shot."
We moved in.
I started with misdirection — tossing a spell that looked like fire but was really a compressed gravity charm. It hit the ground and twisted it into quicksand. Two of my doubles sank up to their knees before realizing too late.
One threw a curse — red flame — I caught it midair, twisted my fingers, and inverted it. The flame turned cold blue, launching it back. the blue flame so cold it burned the frost spreading over his face.
He screamed.
Keller fired three enchanted shots — glowing rounds that left streaks of light. They hit the sigil lines, breaking the circle's symmetry. Sparks flew.
Red Wolf lunged, tomahawks full of spirit energy ripping through spell after spell one of my duplicates Launched a spell only for red wolf to burst through the flames. He fought like a hurricane — all primal motion and precision.
The ritual began to destabilize. The hill shook. One of the H supports cracked.
I drew a circle in the dirt, whispering old Latin. Blue light flared — an ice glyph. But when I thrust my hand forward, it exploded into fire.
While Loki's mirror shard in my pocket pulsed.
The resulting blast incinerated three of my fragments instantly. The rest screamed, their forms collapsing into raw energy.
I gathered it — magic humming through my veins — and sealed it into the ground.
When the light faded, the hill was quiet. The H flickered weakly in the distance, half-burned, half-frozen.
Keller lowered his gun. "That it?"
"For now," I said, brushing ash off my coat.
Red Wolf looked at the cracked mirror shard. "You think the devil's done with you?"
I lit another cigarette, exhaling slow. "The Devil never leaves, Wolf. He just waits for the next drink."
The fire still danced along the broken beams of the H in HOLLYWOOD when I lit my cigarette and tried not to throw up. The ground still throbbed with leftover magic — mine, theirs, and the kind that made angels sweat.
Keller was pacing with his pistol drawn, checking the chamber like it was going to bless him. Red Wolf knelt by a burned sigil, murmuring something to Owayodata that smelled faintly of smoke and sage.
Me? I was trying to ignore the fact that Loki's damn mirror — the one he'd handed me with that smug "trust me" grin — was now pulsing like a heartbeat in my hand.
"Still think that thing's safe to hold?" Keller muttered.
"Define safe," I said, flicking ash onto the cracked ground. "It hasn't eaten my soul yet, so I'm calling that a win."
The mirror pulsed again. Inside it, reflections twisted — my face fracturing into a dozen versions of itself. Some were screaming. Some were grinning. One winked at me.
I looked at Red Wolf. "If this thing starts singing, shoot me."
He gave me a deadpan stare. "I do not think bullets would help."
"Then aim for the mirror, not me. Gotta have priorities."
The mirror flared brighter — golden, then blood-red. My stomach turned as I heard a familiar voice slither out, half smoke, half smirk.
"Half man, half demon… born from a rift I tore across worlds. The son I didn't mean to make."
I froze. "Well. That's a sentence no one wants to hear from the Devil before breakfast."
The air went sulfur-thick. In the mirror's reflection, a face smiled back — mine, but with burning eyes and Mephisto's grin.
"You bear the soul of John Constantine, the priest of chaos, stitched to my fire. I tried to steal his magic, and instead, I made you."
Keller backed up. "What the hell is he talking about?"
"This is a magical play back like a recorded video and it's about Me," I muttered, glaring into the glass. "Apparently, I'm Hell's biggest clerical error."
"You were born from my reach across the multiverse," Mephisto's voice hissed. "The soul remembered its craft, but not its chains. I will correct that mistake."
The mirror cracked like a gunshot — and the sky above Los Angeles split open. Lightning flared in the shape of a pentagram.
"Son of a—"
The H in HOLLYWOOD exploded outward in a wave of red light. A rift opened in the air, a burning scar screaming its way into existence. The smell of brimstone rolled through the hills.
Red Wolf stood, battle axes glowing spirit-blue. "He's coming through!"
"Not on my watch," I muttered, tossing my cigarette and stepping forward.
Spotlights cut through the smoke. A sharp voice barked from the dark.
"Agent Nicholas Keller and company!" Step away from the anomaly and put your hands where I can see them!"
I turned, squinting against the lights. Great. Black SUVs, gun barrels, and a helicarrier spotlight.
"Well," I sighed, "if it isn't the world's least subtle spy agency."
Keller paled. "Oh no. Oh no. Oh no."
"Oh yes," came a gravelly voice as Nick Fury himself stepped out of the shadows, flanked by black widow and Hawkeye, bows and guns at the ready.
"Agent Keller," Fury said, voice like thunder. "You were due back at base six days ago. Instead, I find you standing next to him," he jabbed a finger toward me, "and a glowing satanic nightlight that went undetected by every reader and scientist I've got."
Keller raised his hands. "Sir, this isn't what it looks like."
"Oh, good," I said, cigarette dangling from my lips. "Because it looks like we just opened a rift to Hell with a talking wolf and and a nicotine addict with un paid bar tabs."
"Shut it," Keller hissed.
"Excuse you, I'm contributing to the conversation."
Natasha stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"
"Eli Constantine. Professional nuisance. Amateur exorcist. Full-time disappointment." I gave a mock bow. "And you must be the one with better aim than manners."
She didn't smile. Can't imagine why.
Before Fury could snarl back, the ground cracked open again. Fire poured out, black smoke rising into the air.
"Get your people back!" I yelled. "Its not over!"
Fury scowled but gestured his team to fall back. Hawkeye muttered something about needing bigger arrows.
Red Wolf joined me at the edge of the rift. "It grows still," he said.
"Yeah, like a tumor," I muttered, crouching. "Keller, toss me your gun."
He blinked. "What—why?"
"Because I said toss me the damn gun, Agent."
He did. I drew a quick rune along the barrel with a spark from my fingertip — the symbols glowing faint blue. The metal hummed, charged now with perment power.
"There. Congratulations, you're magic bullets went from hurting demons to killing angles. Try not to shoot yourself, yeah?"
Keller blinked. "You can re enchant a weapon?"
"I can re enchant a bloody stapler if you give me five minutes and enough whiskey. Now focus!"
The first demon crawled from the rift — skeletal wings, molten eyes. It screeched, the sound bending the air.
I threw a sigil — a glowing circle that looked like an ice spell. When it hit, the demon laughed — until the ground liquefied under it. The "ice" shattered into sand, sucking it under like quicksand.
"Lesson one," I said, "never play your cards face-up."
Another came, launching black flame. I caught it midair, twisted my wrist — and it burst into golden fire.
Keller fired beside me, enchanted rounds finding their marks. Each impact flared white, sealing wounds in reality itself.
Red Wolf was a blur of spirit and flesh, his totem glowing as his spectral wolf tore through the swarm, each kill echoing like thunder.
The rift fought back, wind howling as the mirror shards at my feet began to hum.
"Eli!" Keller shouted. "It's pulling you in!"
I gritted my teeth, slamming my palms into the dirt. "Not today!"
I whispered an old spell — half Latin, half something older. Ice runes formed around me, glowing blue-white. Then I snapped my fingers.
Fire erupted instead.
"Always loved opposites," I said through gritted teeth as the circle detonated, pushing the rift inward.
Demons screamed. The mirror shards fused, forming a single pane of glowing glass
The rift snapped shut like a slammed door. Silence followed. Just firelight. Smoke. The faint hiss of cooling steel.
The Aftermath
The hillside looked like the apocalypse had thrown up on it. The H was gone, the earth blackened and pitted.
Fury approached slowly, hand on his upholstered gun.
"You wanna explain," he said, "why Los Angeles looks like the Devil sneezed?"
I lit another cigarette. "Funny story, actually — turns out the Devil's my dad."
Natasha blinked. "You're joking."
"Wish I was."
Keller sighed, rubbing his temples. "Director, he's telling the truth. That mirror—"
"right here," I interrupted, holding it up. The glass glowed faintly gold. "So unless you've got a de-demonization kit in one of those fancy cars, I'd say we call this a learning experience."
Fury glared at Keller. "You went AWOL to play Ghostbusters with this lunatic?"
Keller didn't flinch. "Sir, he saved the world tonight."
Fury looked at me again. "You a threat, Constantine?"
I took a drag, exhaled smoke that shimmered faintly red. "Only if you keep calling me by my full name, Nick."
Silence hung heavy. Then Fury sighed. "Romanoff. Barton. Keep eyes on him. Keller— you're coming with us."
"Of course I am," Keller said. "You're welcome, by the way."
Fury gave him a look that could curdle milk.
When they left, I sat on the crater's edge beside Red Wolf. The city lights glowed below, bright and oblivious.
He looked at me with quiet reverence. "You faced your father and sealed his gate. That is no small thing."
I gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah. Family therapy's hell these days."
The mirror in my hand shimmered again — showing Mephisto's grin in the reflection.
"You can't outrun your blood forever, son."
I smirked, flicked ash into the dark, and whispered back,
"Watch me."