Chapter 1: A Hell of a Start

The air hung heavy with the stench of brimstone and decay as John Constantine strode through the smoky alleyway. His trench coat billowed around him like a shroud, and his cigarette glowed like a beacon in the gloom. He was a man accustomed to darkness, a man who had seen the worst that humanity and hell had to offer.

Constantine was a demon hunter, a master of the dark arts, and a man with a penchant for self-destruction. He was also the last hope for a world teetering on the brink of chaos.

His latest job had taken him to the depths of London's underbelly, where a group of cultists were attempting to open a portal to hell. Constantine had seen enough of hell in his lifetime to know that it was no place for anyone, living or dead. He had to stop them, no matter the cost.

As he approached the cultists' lair, he could hear their chanting echoing through the alleyway. Their voices were guttural and filled with a palpable sense of evil. Constantine took a drag of his cigarette and prepared for what lay ahead.