[ Chapter XII (12): HOGWARTS LETTER FOR MR. CONSTANTINE" ]
In the dead of night, no sound could be heard in the City of Liverpool, England, except for a young child's fist hitting another child's face at the point of bleeding; [ "Come on, Constantine, is that all you got!?" ]
Mocking the blonde boy which is pinned to the ground; the older child, fatter, and also taller could be heard mocking him, before then hitting him with one last powerful punch to the side. Slightly knocking the lights out from the smaller child.
In response to this mocking, John Constantine didn't do anything, and instead defended himself; afraid that he may accidentally kill the child in front of him if ever he went on an uncontrollable rampage.
Not just the bully, but also at the gang of bullies ranging from 9-year olds to 13-year olds standing around them in a circle. Most if not all laughing, snickering, and mocking the poor lone boy on the ground; [ "Come on, Johnny boy." ]
[ "Get up!" ]
[ "He hit you, you should hit back!" ]
[ "Don't kill him, Anthony." ]
[ "Kill him, Anthony!" ]
To say that these young street boys are ruthless could be said to be understatement, as they are more cruel than that. In the future, it wouldn't even be a surprise to say that they'll be big headaches for England; but at the moment they are just rebellious kids.
Kids that can watch a kid beat up another kid, to the point of near death without doing a thing against it; but instead support it, as they all watch with glee.
[ "G-get off, yo-you prick...!" ]
Open wounds, blood, and cuts could be seen across the young boy's fair skin; causing it to be distorted slightly, which in turn caused his vision to be blurred as he could only see red— literally.
As a last resort the 12-year old boy ignored his morals and used all of the little strength his little body has to push off the fat boy sitting over him; [ "I s-said, get off!" ]
Which worked, causing the leader of the bullies to hit his fat bum on the soil below; angered by this, he was about to retaliate, but was stopped by a punch to the face causing him to stumble back on the ground— this time, with his back laid out on the ground.
[ "D-don't mess with me!" ]
John took this chance and launched his attack, knuckle fist sandwich coming from either his left or right; all aimed at Anthony's face which is now being soiled by dirt, bruised, and bloodied by the one he was supposed to bully.
Now he is the one being bullied in this case.
A complete 180 in where the spectators couldn't help but be in awe, and confusion; the previously usually docile John Constantine, now fighting back, and winning against their so-called leader, Anthony.
The former appearing more like a leader to them, with the latter appearing more like a target... Which is completely untrue... But at the moment, none can say which-is-which as they watch the ongoing spectacle.
Noise having died out, as fist-to-face noise ensued— but to a different target this time; no one is courageous enough to stop this, least they be the next target of one rabid John Constantine.
[ "S-stop!" ]
[ "P-pl-please!" ]
In tears, the bloodied Anthony begged for John to stop, but the latter didn't no matter how many sobs he cried, or how bloodied his face gets. Only stopping when the latter felt that he should; that, or accidentally kill the bully which he didn't want to do.
Panting, John looked around him, at the scared faces of the ruffians that avoided his stare; his manical face that borders on normal and demonic.
John not knowing about this, as his vision is painted and his adrenaline kicking to full course; he instead opened his mouth, broadcasting a threat to the spectators; [ "A-anyone else...!" ]
[ "If n-not, then p-piss off!" ]
His raspy voice rang to each and every single one's ear, which made them cower the more. To the crying Anthony's grace, some of his friends pulled him out, dragging him away, which was then followed by every single one of the spectators seconds later.
Which left the lone bloodied figure of a blonde kind, bloodied, beaten up, knuckles covered in blood and bruises standing alone on an empty playground; in the dead of night.
To anyone who would see this scenery's surprise, this didn't happen to a seasoned fighter. Or perhaps to an occult detective with years of fighting in bare knuckle fights; or to someone who has a badass licence.
No, instead this happened to a 12-year old boy that has only recently started to form his own thoughts, and slight little to no independence.
Anyone who sees this would have quickly pity the boy... But to John Constantine, he hates pity the most; he who had run away from his abusive home than stay in it for another day, hour, minute, or second. He hated it— the pity he receives when people look at him, or when he passes by another person.
To say that he is tough-headed would be an understatement. He is extremely stubborn; stubborn of the most stubborn of them all.
[ "..." ]
[ "Damn...!" ]
After seeing all of them disappeared, the adrenaline finally disappeared wherein each nook and cranny of his body felt pain. Face especially which have been hit the most by the fat slob.
But thanks to John's endurance, he was able to eat all of those punches. But to say that it didn't hurt, would be stupid; as he now feels pain in each and every single corner of his body.
Which caused him to wallow and cry silently inside his mind, beads of tears slightly dripping from the corner of his eyes, as he bites his lip forcefully holding back the pained moans that are threatening to come out.
Before ultimately he backed away on an empty slide inside the playground, his back resting on it as he was now away from any possible person's prying eyes. He then cried out— his cries being heard by none, except for himself.
Which he thought wrong in.
[ HOOT ]
Hearing something to his side, John stopped crying momentarily and looked where the noise was coming from. And instantly he locked eyes with a brown feathered Owl; head tilted to the side, carefully watching over him in curiosity on a small tree branch.
[ "Huh...?" ]
The majesticness, or the weirdness of seeing an Owl in a neighbourhood street wasn't the one to arise John's confusion. Instead what caught his attention was the small brown pouch attached to the side of the Owl... Like a fashion statement.
[ "W-what in the n-name off..." ]
Busted lip, busted gums... John couldn't speak properly as he cut himself mid-sentence; feeling the excruciating pain inside his gums, as he now instead looks on in awe at the Owl— feeling a sense of kinship with the weird creature.
In awe and in curiosity, John Constantine who has never liked people but liked animals, reached out to one. Standing up, but stopped himself when he felt his legs collapse; [ "A-ah..." ]
To the young boy's disappointment, it seems that he has suffered more than he thought. Even though he couldn't feel a single pain in his legs, he still couldn't move it even with force; this feeling is akin to that of sleep paralysis, wherein you could feel yourself moving but with difficulty; but not moving at all.
A weird feeling that he has encountered more times he could count. And in those encounters he would meet many demon-like entities, dark figures made out of shadows that would hunt him before ultimately he regains control of his body.
[ "Hei... wh-whot's thhat...?" ]
With difficulty, John tried speaking, holding the underside of his gums as he tried to drag his gum wound away from him. Which made his speech kind of funny to hear.
But he wasn't focused on that, instead he was focused on the Owl grabbing something inside its pouch, something weird... Something that shouldn't fit inside the pouch perfectly... An envelope.
He looks at the top left of the said letter and notices a text written in it, big bold words saying the following words; HOGWARTS LETTER. Next to it is his name, then address— which extends to his supposed bedroom, where he left weeks ago.
Looking at this, he became confused and absentmindedly muttered out some words to himself; [ "H-hugwash L-letteh?" ]
Yes, sir. A H-hugwash L-letteh.
[ ——— ] [ ——— ] [ ——— ] [ ——— ]
[ 04/21/2025 ]
[ 04/21/2025 ]
[ AN: I can't believe I just did that to a kid... ]