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“That wasn’t the deal.”</span>The lone figure didn’t look the least bit imposing standing amongst the group of burly bikers. His black suit was obviously off the rack and was at least a size too large for him making him appear thinner than he actually was. The black trench coat didn’t quite match his suit and hung just as loosely off his shoulders as did his suit. His tie was loosened so that the knot rested just below his top button that was open. He didn’t appear to be the least bit threatening.<br/><br/>Aleister Black lit the cigarette between his lips with a Zippo lighter before dropping it back into the jacket pocket of his suit. He drew long on the cigarette and exhaled before he continued.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#730e02">“The deal was that you turn over the scroll to me and I don’t burn this rat’s nest to the ground. That may be before or after I send all your asses back to hell”</span><br/><br/>He'll was certainly where they belonged. While the normal human eye might see a guy dressed in a suit threatening a dozen very intimidating bikers,Black could see past the facade of the biker skins. The reality was much worse.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#730e02">“I allow you to stay here under the condition that you work for me. You collect the artifacts, or anything else that I want from you and don’t ship your asses back to burn.”</span><br/><br/>The demon biker leaned back in his chair across the pool table from Aleister Black. The guy actually used a pool table for a desk.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:yellow">“Well I figured if this scroll was so important to the great John Constantine, then it must be pretty fucking important. I’m making a new deal. We’re going to keep the scroll and sell it to the highest bidder. In the meantime, we’re going to kick your skinny ass and send you to hell. I like my deal better.”</span><br/><br/>Black took a long drag from the cigarette then doused it on the pool table burning a hole through the felt.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#730e02">“Then I guess you leave me no choice. Can’t say it's been a pleasure.”</span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:yellow">“So you are going to kick all of our asses, alone, and then just walk out with this here scroll.”</span>The leader of the bikers placed the scroll on the table between them. Black’s eyes followed the scroll to it’s resting place between them.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#730e02">“First of all I said nothing about kicking your asses. I believe the word that I used was burn.”</span>He once again pulled the Zippo from his pocket and flipped open the lid before striking it. The group broke out in a shared laughter finding the threat laughable at best.<br/><br/>Black ignores them and whispered a short incantation beneath his breath. The fire leapt from the lighter expanding exponentially as it passes through one demon biker after another consuming them all in flames. All but the leader himself who had jumped up and reached for the scroll. The scroll was gone. He looked up to see Black casually stuffing the scroll into an inside pocket of his trench coat. The fire was beginning to spread from the flaming bikers to the structure itself.<br/><br/>The leader pulled a pistol and pointed it at the head of the man that had invaded his establishment. Aleister Black merely turned his back on the barrel of the gun and walked away. The demon pulled the trigger and the gunned clicked on an empty chamber. Black continued towards the exit. The gun was cocked expending an unspent shell and fired again with the same result.<br/><br/>Black touched a burning post as he passed it and his hand burst into flame.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#730e02">“Constantine is dead. My name is Aleister Black and I am far worse than John Constantine ever dreamed of being.”</span>The fire shot from his hand towards the leader and consumed him in the same cleansing fire that had consumed his gang and was currently consuming the structure around them.<br/><br/>A couple hours later found Aleister Black in his shanty apartment, the same apartment once occupied by John Constantine. He was sitting at a small table near the room’s only window. He was busy deciphering the ancient language on the scroll when he heard a knock at the door. He covered the scroll with a pile of old newspapers before walking over to answer it.<br/><br/>He didn’t say a word as his eyes traveled down the length of the girl. She was certainly not unattractive but didn’t tell him why she was knocking on his door. His eyes rose to meet hers. He knew a troubled soul when he seen one.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#730e02">“Make it fast. I’m busy.”</span>