A vigilante,
Hidden from the light,
Fighting for justice
And what is right.
He sits, his glass lying empty beside him. Our villains hands holding up the heavy dead weight that is his head. There is no light inside the room but the skyline of the ever-awake city illuminates the view from behind him. The bright neon lights of a bustling city contrasts against the sapped energy of the immediate vicinity. His fist pounds the desk, his hand already bruising from the impact. He raises his head from his hand. The scars that line his face are inevitably noticeable. The rough stubble that lines his face shows his state of mind as he sneers into the darkness of the room. There is quiet for a moment as he pans his eyes around the room. Suddenly, he stands up as the chair topples backwards. He has had enough. He needs to get out of here. Stopping for nothing except the whisky bottle that lies beside the door, he exits.
He fears nothing,
His will is like stone.
He's always been isolated,
One man. Alone.
She eats, her supposed friends scattered around her but drawn to her gut-wrenching beauty and awkwardness. As she looks up, they look away. She may be hosting but the intolerable pressure of giving her guests what they want is driving her to desperation. Feigning a smile, she seems to have thrown them off the trail of her misery for the time being. A man, a long time friend, questions her about her day. She raises his eyebrows to him as she feels the burden that her husband used to carry fall upon her shoulders. She has been strong in the months following his death but she wasn't him. They had to know that she was her own person, with thoughts and feelings that did not mirror her late husbands. She stops, the friend still awaiting his answer. Everyone turns their heads to see her. She is standing now, her beautiful gown and jewellery drawing more attention to her faux-pas.
“You don't know me!”
She shouts as those who didn't take notice of her reconsider their course of action. Their eyes are burning a hole through her now. She feels every single bead eye that is set upon her. She doesn't care. The pressure is being drained.
“He's gone and he's never coming back. You sit here with your noses turned up towards me set in the knowledge that I am not my husband. Your snobbery means you will sit here and judge me. No longer will I sit feebly at the head of a table that is empty without him. Good night.”
She exits, her long red dress flowing behind her as they watch her leave. She doesn't know where she is going but she knows that the wind in her hair and between her toes feels refreshing. Perhaps better than ever. A tide of relief washes over her as she begins her walk. The rain pouring. Pouring.
This city is bleeding,
Hope is wearing thin.
A city of dangers.
A city of sin.
Our hero stands, unassuming and sharp-suited. He watches the night and listens as the sounds of the city fill his head. He feels something in the air but he can't place it. The city calls to him, it's sights ans smells are just forgotten remnants of incidents in their shared past. For years, he has protected this city as if it born of his seed. A legend amongst it's inhabitants but never thought of as a hero by the mass population. Maybe it was better this way. He has a reputation in the media as being somewhat of a extremist. If only they knew the truth.
There is a silence as he grits his teeth and narrows his eyes. Then, it comes. That intolerable screeching of a woman in trouble. Her screams reach the very core of our hero but a smile appears. The city needs him again tonight. She needs him.
He answers the call. Turning from the window, he exits the room and the manor entirely. Judging by the volume of the scream, she can't be that far away. The affluent area that our hero's manor resides in is a front for the dark and vulgar happenings of a city gone wrong. If our hero didn't detest what had happened to his country so much, he might applaud how it was woven it's way into everyday America. But not tonight. She calls for him tonight.
So, onto the streets,
She's abandoned her fear.
Little does she know,
A danger is near.
The rain lashes her body, her beautiful red dress stuck to her figure. Her hair is sopping wet now, stuck to her face. She can barely see through the hair that is covering her eyes. She attempts to brush it away but it is simply blown back into it's original position. It would frustrate many but nothing can get to her tonight. She has cast off the shackles that bound her to a life she never wanted. Married into misery is what she used to think but not tonight. Tonight, she is her own woman and her future is whatever she wants it to be.
She walks down a narrow road. It is quiet and distressing but not to her. It seems her malaise has led her into the wrong part of town, far removed from glamorous life that she walked away from a short while ago. The bright neon glow of the city is gone. The illumination from it's building sits on the clouded horizon as squalor and want grip this particular area. The mood is tense and a feeling of dread surrounds her. Walking down a quiet street, her danger approaches. This is what she wanted. She wanted the excitement of a new life. She wanted to have new stories and thrills thrust upon her.
She asked for this.
A man so broken,
So damaged. So Used.
He's mentally unstable,
His power; abused.
Our villain walks amongst the scum of the city. The smell of whisky flows into his nose with every outward breath from his mouth. He is lumbering and dizzy but he is electrified with excitement. He'd be a target for the hive of gluttony and greed that dwells on the city streets if they didn't know who he was... What he has done.
So, they stay out of his way as he stumbles up the street. The eyes of the city are fixed upon his as he makes his way to his fate. His anger is growing.
“You can't run faster than fate.”
His father used to tell him that. No matter how much he ran from the past, no matter how much he tried to escape his future, it was always going to be there waiting for him like an old friend. It would embrace him and wrap itself around him. But he would fight it. He has been fighting it for years. The acts of his past plagued him, they kept him awake at night. The scars that line his face are nothing compared to the scars that dwell deep within him. He is damaged.
Tonight, he was going to stop running. Tonight, he is going to face his fears, even if it means facing his own mortality. His fate.
The cold metal from the grip of the gun in his right hand assures him that if he is riding into battle for the last time, that he will not be riding alone. He feels it just as clearly as our hero does. The city has plans for him tonight. Plans that cannot and shall not be avoided. He rounds the corner, the street becomes narrow and the smell of disease and hinger fills the air. There, in front of him, is his victim.
She doesn't know it yet but he can't take this any more. The constant headaches and thinking were becoming too much. Always thinking. Always replaying the moments that have sent him down this path, over and over again. Their faces show themselves every time he closes his eyes. They want justice, they wont leave him alone.
But there she is. There is his final victim. One last effort to dull the pain. One last victim to ease his lust for blood. He didn't want to be this way but circumstance has forced his hand. It all leads to this moment. Circumstance. Fate. It all leads here.
He raises his gun, his hands are unsteady but he remains in control of his actions. Looking into her eyes, he sees the fear that he has come to be so familiar with. It has embraced her as she lets out a panicked scream that fills the night air. Her red dress clinging to her soaked figure.
The pieces are moving,
The city is at play.
He's coming to save her,
Our villain must pay.
Boldly, he announce himself. Our hero, serving the city and it's inhabitants. A man with nothing to lose or gain holds a weapon the fearful figure of his last victim. One way or another, he is going down tonight.
Our hero has seen his like before. The smell of cowardice and fear radiate from him. The smell of alcohol and foreign substance on his breath show that he is in no mood for playing games. The unwavering sense of pride in his actions make him more dangerous than ever. Yes, our hero has seen all of this before.
Our hero has seen a man who is proud of his actions no matter what they were. He has talked with a man who has chosen many different paths and ended up before him. Our hero has vowed to put this man back on the right track and that is what he will do for our villain. His only shot at Redemption comes through our hero's might. He may languish in the squalor and desperate areas of society but he can be helped. A man who was once so proud has fallen and how mighty the impact was.
A man who stood on top of the world only a year ago cannot seem to recapture that feeling, no matter how bad he wants it. But our hero can help him get there again.
Just like our villain, he sulks and he cries about his lot in life. He attack the weak and struggles to deal with those that are put in front of him. He is a shell of his former self and all it takes is one spark to light that fire once again. Our hero can give him that.
“This doesn't need to be the answer.”
Our hero calls out to the evil that stands before him, threatening the very life of another human being as the rain pours down upon them.
“I know that you need help and I am the one man who can give it to you. You have fallen so far and now you must be raised up. All it takes is one action to change the course of history and that time has come. Your fate has finally caught up with you and now is your time to choose. Here I am, standing before you in our chosen arena. Will you answer the call and be a bigger man that what people think you are? Or will you fold into the pack and be labelled a has-been, a chump... A loser? The choice is yours, my friend.”
Our hero distances himself from the situation as our villain thinks for a moment, his hand beginning to dip from the weight of the gun and the guilt that comes attached to it. Finally, he drops his weapon and to his knees. Our hero shoots a look at our victim, it's her time to run. He has saved her tonight and no one must know. Our villain sobs with relief. He has embraced his fate and is now a bigger man for it.
One moment can change everything. One moment for ultimate Redemption.
Fighting against evil,
He shall not be seen.
Fear the wrath, fear the might.
Fear the name of Constantine.
