Haunting Memories: A John Constantine Story

Chapter 1: Arrival

"What do you mean John, you don't like it?" With a wave of his hand, the devil gestured to the carnival glittering down below them. Children's cries welled up the grassy hills, trapped by the trees that surrounded the fairgrounds, and accented by the soft whir of the machines. Music blared, audible even to their hill top. A faint breeze was blowing but it was drowned out by the excitement. A central tent glowed faintly with the lit up rides rivaling the stars above. "And after all the trouble I went to, to make it especially for you."

"I don't want to play these games-" John closed his eyes, taking a long drag. A dream. Some bizarre fucked up dream. That's all this was. When his eyes opened once more, the devil was gone. The cacophony below continued the same as before. "Bloody hell..." Taking one more peek behind him, and finding the same wall of forest at the base of the hill, he made his choice.

"Not bloody. Not yet. That's your job, isn't it?" Was the last thing John heard, as he descended down the hill.

The carnival was simple. A large central tent. The north side was a food court, the south side was where all the games were set up. East and west held all sorts of rides. Small scale roller coasters, spinning gravity rides, rides that took you upside down, any sort of thing you could want. The hill was on the south end, and from it you could see the thick forest surrounding everything. So dense it seemed to eat any light that reached its borders.

John made quick work sliding down the hill, never losing his footing. He's been in worse spots, he supposed. The crowds were mostly children and their families. Teenagers in smaller clusters around the park. Besides the fact the woods seemed to surround them, nothing appeared obviously out of place.

"Made especially for me huh?" John took another drag as he stepped into the light.

It was daylight all of a sudden. John Constantine was 13 years old, and had run away to the carnival from school after a particularly lucrative (and not exactly fair) poker-match with his mates.

John stepped back in a rare moment of panic and once more, it was night. He was the crumpled 30, maybe 40 year old (truthfully he had lost count) he remembered himself to be. Still the carnival continued in front of him, unbothered by the change.

"The FUCK is going on?!" His shout would go unanswered, both by the families at the event, and by the devil who brought him here. Some quieter curses leaked through his lips as he sat on the grassy mount outside of the light of the carnival. Going in was not the number one option in his mind.

His eyes lingered back over to the trees. They were densely packed close together. Some sort of evergreen he thought. Still, even the limited empty space was filled by a thick darkness. Not a lack of light, but a true darkness. A darkness that one only truly knows when they walk a path similar to his own.

Constantine found himself approaching the tree line. More out of avoidance to whatever magic lay within the chaos of the carnival than out of any actual hope this would be the way out. Slipping his hand behind the tree line, slipped it from his sight as well. Total darkness lay within the trees. Even the light from his lighter couldn't penetrate the darkness contained here.

With a sigh of resignation, he slipped back into the carnival.

It was September 3rd. A Friday. The carnival was set up in the outskirts of town, ready for weekend business. Like any 13 year old, John wanted to go, although his family was standing in the way.

During school, at lunch, John had gathered a few "mates" of his own for a quick game of cards. Truly they were marks more than anything else. John had learned he didn't need friends. He needed people he could control and manipulate. These kids were rich, and full of money for the upcoming festivities. John won them over with his charm more than anything. Charm and stealing his fathers cigarettes as gifts. Didn't take long until he was gambling with them regularly. Tanking a few bets here and there when he could afford it to gain their trust, knowing when the time came down to it, he would not lose.

One ill-fated poker game later and John was slipping out of the boys bathroom, money loaded into his school-pack.

John remembered all of this, clearly as if his entire life passed within a blink. An innocent gesture to adjust to the lights of the rides and tent.

'No' John thought to himself, the boy's face slipping into a frown. Despite how he appeared now, despite the carnival who's grounds he was entering, he knew it wasn't back then. Too many things happened. Too many leaving their permanent marks. Maybe the ones on his body were gone, but not on his soul. He could feel those wounds wherever or whenever. Even now.

"Alright John." He clapped his hands together, producing a smoke from his adolescent pants. "Let's get to the bottom of this."

Before him lay the rows of games. The ring toss, duck grab, balloon darts, and the balls and their bottles. Not to mention the various shooting ranges with their cork guns. Or water games. A smile flickered over John's lips as he remembered his original run through here. Even at 13 he still had quite a bit of occult knowledge, certainly enough to ruin a few carnival games. Bit of psychokinesis timed with the throw of a baseball netted him his favorite prize. It was a large stuffed animal. A dog. Funny, he remembered always wanting a dog.

"Step right up! Throw a ball, win an animal." The carnie's shout pulled John out of the memory. The carnie stood at the very same bottle game John remembered. Yet there was one detail obviously different. The stuffed dogs were gone.

"Win an animal?" John snarked, walking up to the booth, his old teenaged smirk returning.. "What animal? I don't see any prize."

The carnie winked, pulling back in the curtain and revealing the large cage. Inside a large black canine stared directly at John. Eyes of ruby that bore into his soul as the smell of sulfur assaulted him. A look John would recognize anywhere.

"The hell?!" John tried to run backward, but stumbled falling onto his ass. Cursing again, he scrambled up and saw the cage again. This time locked inside was a German Shepherd curled up on his little bed.

"Scared of dogs, kid? Then this probably ain't the game for you." The carnie's arms were crossed. Several parents looked at John, holding their younger kids close.

'Great' John thought to himself again. Not only did he not know what was going on, he was making a bit of a spectacle of himself.

"More scared of the horrid set up of your game." John found himself saying as he dusted himself off. "You really expect to make money with a set up that easy?"

"Oh ho ho." The carnie replied. "You seem pretty confident."

John found himself placing the fee on the counter and picking up the baseball. Throwing it with the same tricks as before. The bottles tumbled to the grass below.

"They warned me about you..." The carnie winked a little. "Well, good job young man, I suppose this guy is now yours."

John didn't see the man open the cage, but the dog was on him in an instant.