Edge of the Underground Lake
"Fuck." The Hellblazer said to himself, lighting a cigarette. "Forgot my fishing pole." It had been a while since he had smoked, but it felt so familiar down here. So appropriate. Dressed in a black suit with a slender black tie that looked like it was lifted out of the Walmart dumpster, he looked across the lake and realized he had no intention of getting wet. The party upstairs was for cats who didn't care there were demons running around or that this place was filled to its ass in enchantments. Maybe he'd go back up later and socialize? Nah, he was just kidding himself. Down here. Down in the dark, damp, asshole of the hotel. This was where he belonged.
One hand on his hip, the Hellblazer heard a sound. An echo of footsteps. A chill went up his spine, but it didn't last. Whatever was coming couldn't be worse than anything he had seen before. And, if it was, then he deserved another cigarette once he sent it back to hell.