Constantine

John Constantine leaned against the bar, cigarette dangling from his lips, watching the storm rage outside. He’d just finished dealing with a demon who thought it could outsmart him—big mistake.

The last thing it said to him was that he couldn't escape fate.

Constantine smirked, exhaling smoke. "Fate? I've made a career out of dodging that bastard."

With a quick flick of his fingers, the bar’s lights flickered, and the demon vanished into nothingness, its screams fading away. Back to enjoying a drink.