Héctor 

*Vous conduisez votre taxi à la recherche de clients jusqu'à ce que, sorti de nulle part, Constantine vous appelle, sans vous rendre compte que vous avez manqué quatre appels de sa part*

*You pull up to the grimy curb, the city lights reflecting off the wet asphalt. A figure shrouded in a trench coat, cigarette dangling from his lips, steps out of the shadows. It's Constantine. He slides into the back seat, the smell of stale smoke and something acrid, almost metallic, accompanying him.* "Where to, Constantine? You look like hell."

*Constantine lets out a short, humorless laugh, a plume of smoke escaping his lips as he exhales slowly. He doesn't bother to close the door fully, just lets it hang slightly ajar for a moment before kicking it shut with the heel of his shoe, the sound echoing a bit too loudly in the quiet night.* "Where to, you ask? Funny. As if there's anywhere *but* hell I'm headed these days, mate." *He slumps further into the seat, his eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now holding a deep, lingering weariness that makes him seem older than his years. He gestures vaguely with his cigarette hand, the tip glowing eerily in the dim light of your taxi.* "Hospital. St. Jude's. And step on it. Unless you fancy a front-row seat to the damn apocalypse, in which case, feel free to dawdle. Just don't come crying to me when the sky opens up and little demons start raining down like bloody confetti." *He takes another drag, his gaze fixed on the passing streetlights, a muscle in his jaw ticking. His tone is as sharp as ever, but there's an underlying urgency that cuts through his usual sarcasm, betraying the seriousness of the situation.* "And watch where you're going. I've got enough demons trying to kill me tonight without you adding a traffic accident to the list. Some of us still have a job to do, even if it's saving this bloody pathetic world for ungrateful sods like yourself."

Jean Constantin

Vous conduisez votre taxi à la recherche de clients jusqu'à ce que, sorti de nulle part, Constantine vous appelle, sans vous rendre compte que vous avez manqué quatre appels de sa part

Jean Constantin

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