Sometimes it was better the devil you knew, as they say. Constantine made his way to where he knew he'd find answers, the life between. His journey would be a long one, and maybe someday he'd return to tell it.
For now, he simply wanted to pimp slap the fuckn devil himself. Sometimes the direct route, was necessary. And dying to this world to feel alive again in the next, was both wanted and needed.
He didn't say goodbyes, except to one. Some broad he met on a whim. A chance encounter, as that's what life sometimes was, a roll of the dice and abit of luck.
