A lot of you seem to be under the misconception that Alexander is a hero or that he wants to be one. He really isn't and he says so all the time. He is a selfish kid and really doesn't care all that much for people outside of his inner circle. But he also isn't an evil dick as you see in this chapter.

I hate goody-two-shoes characters that only live to make the life of others better and I hate edgy evil characters that only live to do evil shit just as much.

They just feel too fake to me.

Alexander is simply a selfish kid that thinks about his interests above everything else. Nothing more nothing less. You torture an innocent kid in front of him, he will kill you. You kill an adult he doesn't know in front of him, he won't give a flying fuck.

---

"What now?" Angela asked when nothing happened after she finished signing the contract.

"Now, I'm going to save your son before claiming my reward," I let the contract burn up and go to my mindscape, where it would wait until I completed my part of the deal.

Angela held in a shudder at the reminder that she just sold her soul away to an unknown being and nodded.

"I will have my chauffeur bring the car around and take us to my house," When the card had summoned me, Angela had been in the middle of work in what was previously her husband's office and was now hers.

Chauffeur, huh.

She has more money than I had estimated at first. Not that it mattered all that much I wasn't here for her money. When you own most of the Casinos in a city of sin like Macau, you have more money than you know what to do with.

"No need," I replied before taking my trusty compass out of my inventory.

It wasn't really an inventory but rather a space between dimensions connected to my mindscape where I stored my more important stuff, but it was basically the same.

Over the years, my little pirates of the Caribbean rip-off compass had gone over many revisions as I spend more and more souls on it until it became a one of a kind treasure. There was very little that my compass couldn't find in this world or any other world for that matter.

A magic circle appeared under my feet, ready to teleport me to whatever I sought.

"Get on," I ordered Angela as she just stood there warily watching the magic circle under my feet.

Getting out from behind her desk, Angela shuffled slowly and cautiously up to the magic circle like it was a rabid beast waiting to take a bite out of her the moment she stepped on it.

I rolled my eyes and teleported us away.

---

We reappeared in the foyer of a small mansion.

Angela looked around at the foyer of her home in wonderment. One second she was looking at the wall of her office in the middle of the city, and the next, they were in the residential area miles away.

"After you," I said to Angela, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Ye-Yes, of course," Angela said, shaking her off the wonder of experiencing real magic for the first time, "this way please,"

I followed Angela as she let us out of the foyer and up the stairs where the bedrooms were.

"I have done my best to keep that I think my son is possessed by a demon quiet. I would appreciate it if you would do so too," Angela said after a moment of silence, "everyone thinks that he has a rare illness that has taken its toll on his body."

She had a business to run, after all, and a lot of people wouldn't want to do business with a woman that thought her son was possessed by a demon even in a world as messed up as this one.

As far as I know, the Justice League of this earth hasn't fought against demons before, and even if they had, people would reason it away and say that they were monsters or aliens.

People with superpowers: sure.

Aliens: why not?

Magic: strange, but alright.

Demons: to the mental hospital with you.

The moment it has anything to do with religion, it starts becoming iffy.

"Okay," I agreed, not caring one way or another.

After a minute of walking, we arrived at what was clearly a little kids room. The door was painted sky blue with clouds and birds on it.

It was either painted by the worst paid artist in the world or, more likely, a little kid.

"Samuel painted it himself. He said he was going to be an artist in the future, and no one could tell him otherwise," Angela said as she noticed me looking at the door, her voice breaking as she thought back to how vigorous and happy her little boy used to be.

Regaining her composure, she opened the bedroom door and walked inside.

The inside of Samuel's bedroom looked just like you would expect of that of a child. Except for the machines that looked like they belonged in a hospital and the smell of disinfectant, that is.

A woman stood up from where she was reading a book next to Samuel's bed when she noticed us coming in. She was young, in her early twenties. She had a pretty face framed by long black hair and looked to be of Hispanic descent.

Going by her uniform, I'm going to guess, maid or nanny. A look above her head told me that her name was Rosalina.

On the king-size bed laid a 10-year-old kid hooked up to all sorts of beeping machines. He had tubes going in his mouth, nose, and other places I didn't even want to think off. His skin was a sickly pale color, and his face was sunken in like he hadn't had anything to eat in weeks. He was nothing more than skin and bones at this point.

Basically, the kid looked like shit.

"Ma'am," the maid/nanny greeted after putting her book away, "I didn't expect you to return so soon."

She looked my way before furrowing her eyebrows in confusion when it became clear that she couldn't seem to remember my face for more than a second. A subtle use of my power made it so that she wouldn't freak out.

"I ran into someone that can help Samuel," Angela explained briefly before walking to her son's bedside, "give us the room, please."

Rosalina frowned slightly at Angela's order, looking more than a little reluctant to leave a stranger alone with Samuel, even with Angela in the same room.

"She can stay," I said, not taking my glowing eyes away from Samuel's body, "I have some questions for the both of you."

Angela hesitated for a second before nodding.

There may be some truth to Angela's notion that a demon is to blame for her son's strange sickness. Because if there is another explanation for why Samuel's life force was bleeding out of him and being transported elsewhere in front of my very eyes, I couldn't think of it.

Which also explains why he was getting thinner and thinner despite the feeding tubes. His body was wasting away from lack of life-force, not nutrition.

And that is not all. As I peered deeper, I saw that the demon went so far as to constrict Samuel's soul with a crisscross web of mystical energy to keep him in a coma as he sipped on his life-force like a juice box.

Samuel's soul is still squeaky clean, which rules out him having summoned a demon on purpose or accidentally, for that matter, and making a deal with it.

Demons liked to put their marks or a hint on the souls traded to them to warn off other demons until the time they could collect upon the human's death.

Not to mention that deals with demons taint the soul of a human. No matter how good you hide it, there will forever be a little rot on your soul. But Samuel had neither rot on his soul or any markings that marked him as some demon's property.

Which leaves Samuel having either come in contact with the demon itself or an item belonging to it. The latter is the more likely of the two.

"Have either of you noticed Samuel playing with anything strange leading up to the days before he got sick?" I asked Angela and Rosalina, putting some soul-energy in my voice to make them remember everything strange having to do with Samuel, no matter how small.

It has been months since Samuel first fell into a coma. I doubt they could remember anything they hadn't already the first time they were questioned without some extra help.

Both their eyes go blank for a second, but Rosalina is the only one that looks like she had remembered something.

"What did you remember?" I asked her.

Rosalina's eyes turn to Angela worriedly before going back to me. She didn't know what this had to do with Samuel's illness, but she would do anything to help the person she has come to see as a little brother over the years.

"I saw him play with a strange sculpture a few days before he fell sick," she admitted, "I thought nothing of it at the time and thought it was something Mr. Davis brought back from his trip and took it from him."

"Why didn't you say anything?!" Angela spat out angrily.

"You know how your husband's temper was after he came back from his business trip. I didn't want Samuel to get in trouble," Rosalina retorted quietly, "I forgot about it after that."

"Do you still have it?" I asked Rosalina, interrupting the two of them before they could continue their little spat.

"I put it on Mr. Davis's office desk for him to find," Rosalina answered after thinking for a moment, "I don't know if it's still there."

After her husband's death, Angela had ordered everyone to stay out of his office. No one was allowed inside, not even to clean. She herself hadn't been in there ever since his death.

"Go look," Angela ordered, "quickly!"

Rosalina nodded before running out of the room as fast as her feet could carry her.

"Do you think that the sculpture has anything to do with the demon that is possessing Samuel?" Angela asked me as soon as Rosalina was out the door.

"We will see."

Angela stayed quiet and went back to running her hand through her son's brown hair.

---

Rosalina returned a minute later, out of breath and clutching an 8-inch sculpture to her chest. The little statuette depicted a two-faced being. One side showed a holy smiling figure full of divinity, and the other side showed a vengeful snarling demon.

The moment my eyes fell on the sculpture, I could immediately tell that it was an Icon, something that a powerful being could use to exercise its will on its subjects without truly being there.

"This is it," Rosalina said as she handed the sculpture to me.

The second I take hold of the sculpture, it changes, and all that is left is the vengeful snarling demon, who was glaring at me with its four eyes.

Tainted magic energy starts to gush out of the sculpture, trying to scan and enter my body. Before it can do either, a golden barrier shimmers in sight around me, stopping the tainted energy in its tracks.

Okay then...demon sculpture it is then.

An irritated look has a golden barrier appear around the sculpture, keeping it from saturating the room with its taint. The tainted energy may not be able to affect me, but the same couldn't be said for the other people in the room with me.

Now that I'm 99 percent sure that Samuel's condition is the work of a demon, I can take care of it and heal him without any unexpected problems creeping up.

Strolling up to Samuel's bed, I take hold of the invisible connection pulling on his life-force and reverse the pull. Immediately Samuel's life-force starts to stream back into his body like a flood, going back to where it belongs. His skin starts to regain color, and his face is well on its way to filling back up when the connection is cut abruptly.

Feeling a hateful gaze glaring at me, I look at the sculpture still in my hand and beyond it at the demon responsible for all of this and give it a cocky smirk, my eyes glowing red.

The demon's eyes widen in surprise before reflexively breaking the connection between it and the Icon to stop me from tracking it by following the connection.

The sculpture reverts to the depiction of the holy figure full of divinity and vengeful snarling demon before gaining a crack in the middle, splitting the two images even more. A second later, the entire thing turns into dust.

Now, where was I?

A moment of concentration has me converting soul-energy into pure life-force and pumping it into Samuel's body. While I'm doing that, I was also healing all the problems that came with not moving for months, like the slight atrophy of his muscles.

When I'm done with all that, I vanish all the tubes connected to Samuel's body before removing the web of mystical energy that kept him in his artificial coma.

"He is waking up," I told Angela and Rosalina, who had been watching me with wide eyes this whole time.

As if on command, Samuel opens his eyes and looks around the room drowsily and confused.

Seeing this, Angela begins to cry before hugging her son to her, murmuring sweet nothings in his ear and kissing him all over. Much to the kid's confusion. From his perspective, it would have seemed like he went to sleep one day and woke up months in the future.

"Why are you crying, mom?" Samuel asks her, confused.

Rosalina looks like she is doing everything in her power to stop herself from rushing to hug Samuel, smiling and crying at the same time.

"Thank you, thank you!" Angela cried gratefully as she looked at me over her son's head.

I simply nodded back.

Having completed my side of the deal, the soul contract leaves my Mindscape and hovers in front of Angela and me before burning to nothing, signifying its completion.

Angela stares at where the contract used to be and glances around waiting for something to happen when nothing does she shrugs it off and goes back to hugging and kissing her son.

Unbeknownst to her, her soul had left her body and entered my Mindscape when the contract had burned up. At the same time, an artificial soul that I had prepared beforehand had left my Mindscape and replaced her soul.

That artificial soul has enough soul-energy in it to keep her alive for another 20 years. If people learn that all my clients die a month after making a deal with me, no one but the truly desperate will ever deal with me again.

Now to find that demon and kick its ass.

Technically my deal with Angela was already complete, but Samuel could just get 'possessed' again after I leave, or the demon could come here and kill them personally. Either way, it would be a dick move to pack up and go home and leave them to their fates. I already have Angela's soul, I might as well finish what I started and see this through till the end.

And I'm not going to lie. I'm curious how this all happened. Did the father make a deal with a demon, and his son just got dragged into his mess when he found the sculpture or is there something more going on?

Giving the happy family and maid one last look, I grab hold of my compass and let it whisk me away.

If that demon thought that breaking its own Icon was going to stop me from tracking down its location, it had another thing coming.

I reappeared in the middle of a forest in Mexico, there were trees as far as the eye could see at each of my sides.

Right in front of me was a half-buried temple that gave off feelings of wrongness and death. And standing in front of it was something even worse.

"Bloody Hell!" I let out a self-deprecating sight and close my eyes. I should have fucking known.

"Good to see you too, mate," the blond-haired man wearing a tan trench coat, said smirking.

---

(Flashback - 5 years before)

"The word on the street is that you can make a man's wildest fantasies come true," A British voice said from in front of me.

I looked up from the pile of paperwork in front of me. According to Nina, it was something I had to learn because she wouldn't always be there to do it for me(I'm 99% sure she just got fed up with doing all my paperwork), so instead of arguing and telling her that I could just snatch her out of whichever afterlife she was destined for, I decided to give her a break and do my own paperwork for once.

Which I was regretting like a motherfucker right now.

Anyways...back to what I was saying.

So I looked up, ready to tell whoever this was that I didn't take walk-ins today when I realized that I hadn't sensed anyone entering my office or heard my door open, for that matter.

My heart skips a beat before I forcefully calm it back down and continue looking up, acting like everything was normal, and promptly lost all my hard-earned composure when I saw the person standing in front of me.

"Fuck!"

"Oh?" John motherfucking Constantine said, surprised, "You heard of me, have you."

I groaned and leaned back in my at-the-moment, not so lovely office chair, "What do you want?"

"Well," Constantine began, reaching inside his coat pocket.

All my muscles tensed, ready to dodge. I still couldn't sense him, and yet he was standing right in front of me and not as an illusion either, I already checked.

"I heard rumors about someone dealing in souls in the city of sin. Here I was wondering what kind of bottom feeder had managed to crawl its scrawny ass out the fiery pits of hell," he continued taking a cigarette out of his pocket and putting it in his mouth before lighting it with a snap of his fingers, "imagine my bloody surprise when you turned out to be a little brat."

"You still haven't told me what you want," I said, glaring at his cigarette until it burned to ash, "I hate the smell of cigarette smoke."

Constantine lifted an impressed eyebrow, "how about you and I make a dea-"

"No thanks," I refused immediately, "I am not going near your soul with a ten-foot pole. That thing has been used more times than a drunk girl at a frat party."

The very idea that his soul could still be sold after all the times he did just that says enough about what happens to those owning it before they can collect.

"Your soul isn't worth the mountain of demons I have to fight to claim it."

"Ouch," Constantine smirked, not at all offended.

"Are you sure you aren't a demon," Constantine asked, his smirk gaining a violent touch to it.

I felt a shudder pass over my spine.

"I'm sure," I replied stiffly, "if that was all, you can leave, and with that I mean the city, not my office. I don't need your kind of problems following you to my city."

"I can feel them inside you, you know," Constantine said, acting like he hadn't heard me, "hundreds of souls just sitting there waiting to be used as nothing more than a power supply. Forever denied the afterlife."

"Where are you going with this?" I asked him, unable to stop myself from getting drawn in.

Constantine sighed, taking out another cigarette. He paused his lighting snap when he saw me glare at him before doing it anyway, "you have absolutely no idea what you have been doing, do you?" He asked rhetorically.

"You are like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum every time you do 'magic'," he said the word magic like it was a joke, "You are throwing so much raw power around that the universe has no choice but to bend over and do your bidding, and sooner or later, someone is going to take notice."

"That someone is going to be a lot better at throwing raw power around than you, and they are gonna bitch slap you to next Tuesday for having the balls to meddle with their reality," Constantine said seriously, "and when they do, they won't stop at just you, so either get control or dig a hole and live the rest of your life quietly."

Done saying what he came to say, Constantine flamed out of existence.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the last time I saw Constantine. But that is a story for another time.

---

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---

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