#ritchie simpson

constantine: oh no. [ i don't want this to happen. it isn't going to happen. i won't let it — — happen. it's far too hot for the extinguisher — can't even get near. S.H.C. — spontaneous human combustion — there've been some cases in the "fortean times!". last time i saw it was in baron winters' house. it's horrible. in less than one crackling, scorching minute, ritchie is reduced to charcoal. the acrid smell of the charnel house paints my senses with nausea — but i have to have a look. what's left is brittle — but greasy to the touch. ] computer ritchie: john. constantine: wha! [ the shock of hearing his voice is temporary — the sinking feeling that follows realization of the implications, less so. ] computer ritchie: you there, john? listen, i had a bit of a close call, but i'm ok. i'm on my way back.

hellblazer #7: "ghosts in the machine"

- The Many Ghosts of John Constantine -

"Catastrophe, from start to finish. Inexcusable, stupid, bloody shameful catastrophe. No one to blame. I hold the smoking gun-- the accusatory fingers point my way. Still, we all make mistakes-- don't we? Even demons. The only difference is, I've paid for mine. Two years in Ravenscar Secure Facility for the Dangerously Deranged. We all paid. Anne-Marie took holy orders. Benjamin got his stutter. Lester got his junk habit. Ritchie went into computers. Judith went to work with abused children and Frank went off biking around the world. And, just as the demon promised, hell took them, everyone. But, like I say. We all make mistakes-- and the demon was finally telling me his name. Nergal. Nergal. This is where we started it and this is where it'll finish."