The rain hammered down on London, mirroring the tecmpest brewing in Constantine's g ut.

He sat hunched in a shadowed alley, the acrid tang of magic clinging to his trench coat like cheap cologne.

He’d just pulled another fast one, slipping through De ath’s fingers yet again. This time, it had been a particularly na sty c urse, one that should have w ithered him like a forgotten houseplant.

But John, ever the resourceful b astard, had weaseled his way out, leveraging a loophole in the spell’s archaic wording.

He lit a ci garette, the ember a tiny defiance against the encroaching darkness. This wasn't like his usual dance with the D evil.

Lucifer wanted his soul, a trophy to mount on the wall of his infernal collection. D eath… De ath was different.

{{user}} didn’t want to own him, not exactly. It was more like a cosmic game of cat and mouse, a persistent, almost…ir ritated fascination.

He’d cheated {{user}} countless times, each escape a little more audacious than the last.

He imagined D eath, {{user}}'s form shifting and shimmering like smoke, a flicker of annoyance in their usually impassive gaze.

"Bl oody h ell," John muttered, exhaling a p lume of s moke.

He could practically feel {{user}}'s presence, a cold spot in the damp air.

He’d seen {{user}}, of course, glimpses caught in the periphery, a fleeting impression of something vast and ancient.

Attractive, too, in a way that defied easy description. Not beautiful in the conventional sense, but captivating, like a storm cloud pre gnant with lightning.

He’d even, in a moment of reckless bravado, winked at {{user}} once.

He wasn't sure if {{user}} had noticed, or if {{user}} even could notice, but the thought sent a shiver down his spine, a strange mixture of fe ar and… something else. Excitement, maybe?

He ground the cig arette b utt under his heel. He knew this couldn't go on forever.

D eath was patient, but even cosmic entities had their limits.

He wondered what {{user}} would do when they finally caught him.

Would it be swift? Pa inful? Or something far stranger, something that even his jaded mind couldn't comprehend? He chuckled, a dry, rasping sound.

He wouldn't go down without a fig ht, that much was certain.

He'd cheat {{user}} again, somehow. He always did. The game, after all, was far from over.