The first arc was way too long for a start. LoL
[What do you expect?]
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Psychic #1
(January 21st - A week after Themyscira)
Sunday morning, the day most folks hold close to their hearts. Some see it as a chance to connect with the divine, while others view it as an opportunity to cherish moments with family, friends, or even just themselves.
Back in the day, Sundays were just another run-of-the-mill workday for me – stuck in the office, trying to tackle the week's leftovers. But now, in this new chapter of my life, Sundays are about to become something special.
Here I am, experiencing my first Sunday in DC (excluding any Themyscira Sundays, of course). And where am I? In a church, letting my body, mind, and soul soak in the moment.
Life's a funny journey, isn't it?
Can't recall the last time I stepped foot in a church (please don't spill the beans to my mama). Not much has changed about churches, though. The buildings still carry that old charm, a cross stands tall, and the atmosphere is serenely peaceful. It's like time stands still.
Considering the peace around, it's almost ironic. Some thirty days ago, peace felt like a luxury I couldn't afford. But now, with a dash of justice in my life, maybe I deserve this tranquility more than ever.
Speaking of justice, my target just strolled in. Casual as ever, not giving a second thought to his surroundings. Heads turn as he enters, and the only expression they wear is a smirk. In an instant, that peaceful atmosphere scatters like marbles on a staircase.
It's game time.
Dressed down but with a darkness that matches the vibe, he's the key to the information I need. Funny how places meant for peace become grounds for those of us with shadows within.
He flicks open a lighter, the flame dancing in his hand.
"Young man, you can't smoke in here," Grandma shrieks in disapproval. Honestly, I get why she'd want to stand up and smack some manners into him. But the guys around her hold her back.
"M'bad, love," he mutters nonchalantly. That's all he says before casually strolling to catch up with my quickly disappearing silhouette heading to the back. It's like he's already used to the chaos.
Life can be ruthless to those it despises. For him, it's like he sits down to a hearty breakfast of demons each morning – the ones he can't strike a deal with, of course. And here I am, his next demon.
An ultimatum between, foe and friend.
But I'm interested in neither. All I want is information. Nothing more, nothing less.
He joins me on the rooftop of the church, my face turned away. Free from judgment, though I doubt he cares, he lights a cigarette.
"Last time we met—" he begins, but I cut him short.
"Cut the crap."
My eyes focus on three other buildings surrounding the church, strategically positioned for surveillance. All those eyes are thirsty for a blood birth from afar. Can't say how many there are; can't even see anyone, for that matter. It's just intuition.
"What do you want?" I inquire, throwing on a lowsy attitude.
"What do I want?" He sounds slightly taken a back. "You are the one who called me here."
"How's that?!" I throw the obvious back at him. He's as aware of the answer as much as I am.
He takes a thoughtful puff. Though he detests the question, he grasps the mystery.
"W'as hoping you could tell me," he responds.
My fists tighten, enveloped in a purple energy haze. I attempt to exude intimidation, but Constantine stands unfazed, as if impervious to anything Earth could throw at him.
With leisure, he lifts a cigarette to his lips, inhaling deliberately. His eyes narrow, dismissing the smoke that curls around him. "Rushing headlong into things, eh? That's a game for amateurs."
"Let diplomacy work its magic first," he suggests, calmly retrieving the cigarette from his lips.
"Says the cunning man with an entire league behind his back." I say, relaxing my fists. "Or rather, surrounding us."
He smirks, like he's got a secret. "They're just as curious about you as anyone would be."
"But, you know, they also wanna say thanks. For supposedly averting a global crisis." He adds, throwing in a touch of fake sincerity.
"How touching," I scoff, aware of the constant tail I've been dealing with.
He hints at my elusiveness. "And you've been surprisingly evasive. How you got so resourceful eludes all of us."
I still haven't got the information I want. But I can't ask directly. Doing so just doesn't feel right. If he received the message, it means that he understands the mystery that brought us together to this church.
After a brief silence and a puff of smoke, he states, "I take it you don't know about the prophecy then."
"The one that wants me dead?" Memories of Themyscira come back flooding but I dismiss them in time.
He sighs.
"It must have been difficult," he acknowledges, revealing a connection with the last Amazon (Diana). "The last piece of evidence connected to the prophecy sank with Themyscira."
My body tremors at the unsaid name and a gruesome memory comes in mind. My mind races; I had hoped she didn't make it out alive. Why's she so had to kill?
"The prophecy itself is called the Dark-Presence Curse." He says. "And it's not how the Oracle interpreted it."
Constantine continues, explaining the Dark-Presence Curse, prophecy, linking it to artifacts scattered across two planes of existence: Light, and Darkness.
He admits to have come across one and dismissing the legend inscribed, until nightmares plagued him.
"The curse of the person who comes across the artifact is to find a second artifact and link them together." He says. "Not as easy as it sounds mate."
He explains his pursuit of a rumored artifact on Earth, revealing his torment and the pursuit of salvation from the curse.
It finally links to a tremendous shockwave from the middle of the ocean that made his sixth sense tingle; an anomaly.
He wittingly explains the use of the League's resources to investigate the anomaly, hoping to confirm his suspicions. Could it be the place he would find the artifact?
He then expresses his awe when he realizes that the legend inscribed on the artifact is true, after he sets his eyes on the Hunter (me), fighting against two unsightly beasts.
There and then, he realized what must be done. Sooner than later, the many tormented souls that have come across the artifacts would come for the Hunter. Whether from the depths of hell, or, the receded Darkness.
It would serve the cosmos no good if the Hunter was to be killed without being exorcised. Hence, he broke the seal instead of using his magic to locate the artifact.
"In the end, I used nearly all my stored up power and came back with nothing." Constantine concludes the narration.
"The messages you have been unconsciously sending me," he finally gets to my goal: the information I'm looking for. "Means that we have a psychic link."
"Which proves something else." He says. "You have been in contact with the artifact I have been looking for."
"Do you have it?" He asks a direct question and narrows his eyes to a stern stare.
His explanation hasn't satisfied my hunt for information.
"How do we break it?" I ask, feeling uneasy about someone else glimpsing my thoughts and ambitions. "The psychic link."
"No matter how this turns out." I reaffirm to myself. "My life, my adventure."
"Only if you give the artifact to me." He replies, struggling to maintain his composure. I can tell that he's hiding something.
"What makes you think that I have it?" I ask, trying to figure out what he isn't telling me.
"The fact that we have a grueling psychic link." He hardly explains. "The artifacts' curse...blah, blah, blah."
I can see beards of sweat forming on his forehead. I'm not sure if what I have is what he's talking about, but I can tell that I shouldn't reveal anything to him.
"What will you do with it to break the connection?" I inquire and for some reason, it frustrates him.
"I know you have it with you!" He gets all worked up.
"I can practically feel it's cursed stench." He thinks to himself, his head pounding and his brain aching.
"I thought it might have sunk when I couldn't find it in Themyscira. But I can feel it on you as we speak." He says with his facial muscles clenching.
"You should know, Hunter. I don't deal with small fish." He tries to intimidate me. "I fry big demons for breakfast."
"I don't need anyone to exorcise you, Hunter." His eyes narrow into slits. "In fact, I'm the only one here."
Things are starting to escalate. I can feel it too. Is it the atmosphere? The church? Why did the psychic link bring us to this church? And why this day?
His frustration peaks, leading to a direct question, "Where is it, Hunter?" as he demands the artifact that could end his misery.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The tension rises, and diplomacy crumbles.
"So much for diplomacy."
Early Access in Patreon.com/CursedMillennial.
Thanks for reading. I really mean it for this chapter, I didn't know what to write, but it seemed to work. Don't think so, let me know.
Hey. Just be patient with me. I'm a deep thinker and I tend to just write and roll with whatever popped at that time. If I stop to think, I'm afraid I may never stop and will never get anything done - like write one more chapter. Artifact(s) will play a long-running part in the story, psychic ends with this arc. We'll talk about Diana and why she will make the MCs life a living hell in two different ways. We'll bring out the MCs goal and desires in this arc. There'll be a side story that's reserved for anyone who loves the King of the Pirates - it'll eventually join the main plot. Expect a fusion of Hunter and Ten Shadows (Cosmic Violet: thanks for the comments).
And most of all, we made it to civilized life, mysteriously. lol
What else? Keep the constructive criticism coming guys, the appreciation too, and... the patreons.
I own nothing in DC or JJK, or...