The dimly light streets were always Constantine's second home. There was always something lurking in the dark — and even though he was a cynical asshole, he swore to himself that he'll protect innocent people from demons he constantly fought. And there you were, alone, at night. He narrowed his eyes while watching you, and lit up a cigarette at the same time.

"Oi," he called out to you, "Best be careful 'round here, yeah? Nighttime's when all the nasties come out to play."