After traveling for what felt like hours through the wilderness, Marcus finally detected the unmistakable traces he'd been seeking. Scattered across a small clearing were the remnants of a fierce supernatural battle – flame-like energy signatures intermingled with something far more sinister.
The fiery traces were unfamiliar, but Marcus recognized the second type of residue immediately. Black, viscous energy clung to the ground and surrounding vegetation like spiritual tar. This was pure demonic essence, the kind of corrupted power that only manifested when Hell's denizens bled in the physical realm.
"Looks like Constantine found his demon after all," Marcus murmured, kneeling to examine the energy patterns more closely.
The distribution of the residual forces told a clear story – whatever battle had taken place here had been mobile, with the combatants moving steadily in one direction. The demonic essence formed an almost perfect trail leading deeper into the wilderness, as if something had been retreating while bleeding supernatural ichor.
Tatsu hummed eagerly in his grip, its spectral enhancement resonating with the lingering demonic energies. The weapon's stored dragon souls writhed within the blade, desperate for release after so much anticipation.
"Just a little further," Marcus promised the restless spirits as he began following the trail. Each step carried him hundreds of meters through spatial compression, the landscape blurring past as he closed the distance to whatever confrontation was still unfolding ahead.
The sounds of combat reached him before the visual – the crackling of mystical energy being pushed to its limits, followed by inhuman roars that seemed to come from multiple throats at once. Marcus emerged from his spatial fold just in time to witness something that defied his extensive experience with supernatural entities.
Constantine stood in a defensive position, his arms extended toward what could only charitably be described as a demon. But this wasn't any infernal creature Marcus had encountered in his travels between dimensions. The thing facing the exorcist was a patchwork horror – a massive humanoid form stitched together from dozens of different demonic body parts.
Arms of varying sizes and origins protruded from its torso at impossible angles. Its head was a grotesque fusion of multiple skulls, each contributing different sets of teeth or eyes to the overall nightmare. Legs that clearly belonged to different species of demon supported the ungainly mass, while torn wings and severed tails hung from its back like macabre decoration.
"What the hell is that supposed to be?" Marcus wondered aloud.
Constantine was maintaining some kind of binding spell – an orange-red circle of light that struggled to contain the abomination's movements. The exorcist's arms trembled with effort, sweat streaming down his face as he fought to keep the creature restrained. Blood seeped from mystical symbols carved into his arm, and a triangular mark blazed on his forehead with borrowed divine power.
It was clearly a stalemate that Constantine couldn't maintain much longer.
"Perfect timing," Marcus announced as he stepped into the clearing. "Hope you don't mind if I cut in!"
Without waiting for a response, he raised Tatsu and released the weapon's stored potential. Five spectral dragon souls exploded from the blade in streams of ethereal fire, circling Marcus briefly before launching themselves at the stitched abomination.
The results were immediate and devastating.
Where conventional attacks had apparently failed to penetrate the creature's supernatural hide, the dragon souls tore through its patchwork flesh like tissue paper. Black ichor sprayed across the clearing as the spirits carved deep wounds through the demon's torso, each pass revealing more of its horrific internal structure.
"Finally!" Constantine gasped, relief evident in his voice. "Something that can actually hurt this thing!"
Marcus studied the creature's wounds with professional interest. "Conventional weapons weren't working?"
"Nothing I tried could even scratch it," Constantine replied, maintaining his binding spell despite the creature's obvious distress. "Holy water, blessed silver, even a consecrated crowbar – it just absorbed everything without taking any real damage."
The reason became clear as the dragon souls' assault revealed the abomination's true nature. Beneath the outer shell of stitched demonic flesh lay something that made Marcus's expression harden with disgust.
A human corpse, perfectly preserved in the center of the creature's mass.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Marcus said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Someone actually built this thing around a human victim?"
Constantine's face was grim. "That's not just any human – that's the person who was originally possessed. Someone didn't just exorcise the demon; they used the possessed individual as raw material to create this... this artificial demon."
The implications were staggering. Creating such an abomination would require not just extensive knowledge of demonic anatomy, but access to multiple demon corpses and the complete moral bankruptcy necessary to use a living human as the creature's core.
"Whoever did this is still out there," Marcus realized. "This thing didn't build itself."
"Which means there are probably more," Constantine added grimly. "People don't usually stop at just one when they discover something this effective."
Marcus raised Tatsu again, channeling void energy through the weapon's enhancement. The spectral dragons responded eagerly, converging on the abomination's center mass where the human victim lay trapped within the demonic shell.
The final assault was swift and decisive. Dragon souls pierced through layers of stitched flesh and bone, finally reaching the creature's unholy heart. The abomination let out a sound like a dozen different demons screaming in unison, then collapsed as its animating force was finally severed.
"Thank God that's over," Constantine muttered, dismissing his binding spell and immediately pulling out a small bottle of holy water. "Now for the cleanup."
As the blessed water struck the creature's remains, the entire mass began to dissolve with violent hissing sounds. Demonic flesh bubbled and steamed away, leaving only purified earth where the abomination had fallen. Even the lingering spiritual contamination was neutralized, restoring the clearing to natural sanctity.
"Impressive," Marcus commented, watching the purification process with interest. "I take it you don't usually cast magic that requires bleeding yourself?"
Constantine grimaced, looking down at the still-fresh cuts on his arm where he'd carved binding symbols. "Magic always has a price. The more powerful the spell, the steeper the cost. I prefer to avoid paying with my own life force when possible."
"Then what did you use to power that binding spell?" Marcus gestured toward the fading mystical residue. In his void sight, he could see traces of the same energy he'd incorporated into his weapon enhancement – borrowed power with a distinctly infernal signature.
"Let's just say I have an arrangement with certain entities," Constantine replied evasively. "I don't exactly borrow their power – it's more like strategic theft when the situation calls for it."
Marcus was about to probe further when Constantine suddenly doubled over in apparent agony, clutching his chest as if his heart was being squeezed by invisible hands.
"Ah," Marcus observed. "Payment time?"
"I can... handle this..." Constantine gasped between waves of pain. "Don't... interfere..."
Through his enhanced vision, Marcus could see spectral claws wrapped around Constantine's heart, tightening with malicious intent. The exorcist was clearly in genuine danger, but he was also reaching for something in his coat with desperate determination.
Constantine pulled out a simple silver cross and a worn Bible, his face contorting with pain as he began to pray with surprising sincerity.
"Lord, may your light drive back the darkness that seeks to claim your servant..."
The prayer started weak and broken, but gradually gained strength and conviction. As Constantine's voice grew steadier, brilliant white light began to emanate from his body. The spectral claws around his heart recoiled as if burned, releasing their grip and retreating back to whatever infernal realm had sent them.
Marcus watched the divine intervention with scientific fascination. The energy signature was completely different from any magic he'd encountered – pure, selfless, and utterly incompatible with demonic influence.
As Constantine completed his prayer and the holy light faded, Marcus casually reached out and captured some of the lingering divine energy in a small void pocket. The power felt warm and protective, completely unlike the cold efficiency of his usual abilities.
"That was genuine divine intervention," Marcus commented as Constantine struggled back to his feet. "Impressive. I didn't think Hell's debt collectors could be driven off so easily."
"It's not easy," Constantine replied, wiping sweat from his forehead. "And it only works because I've got someone upstairs who occasionally takes my calls. Most people can't count on that kind of backup."