[ WP ] You wake up in your studio apartment one day to find a mysterious clock . Standing in front of the clock words flash across the screen saying , `` TIME . UNTIL . DEATH . '' You see a countdown of 7 years , 43 days , 50 hours , and 27 minutes . You try to tinker with it and the countdown drops to 4 days .

John Constantine woke, and sat up in the bed. Rubbing his face, he saw an electronic clock sitting on the bed near his feet. Words flashed across the screen, followed by numbers. John looked at the clock, considering. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the nightstand beside him, lit up. 
 
 ``'Time until death'? 7 years, 43 days, 50 hours, and 26 minutes?'' He rolled his eyes as he took his first drag of the day. 
 
 Lazily, he reached over and picked up the clock. A small red button on the back. Unlabeled. John grunted. Pushed the button. He turned the clock back over. 
 
 The numbers had changed, the words hadnot. 
 
 `` Four days? Really? *For that? *'' He looked up at the ceiling, pondering. Such an arbitrary change, obviously the button itself had no effect on his lifespan. He was being fucked with. 
 
 Constantine was used to being fucked with. He could deal with being fucked with. And only one being could claim to control his lifespan in such an arbitrary manner. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed, stubbed out his cigarette. He got dressed. 
 
 He put on his trenchcoat, grabbed his keys and clock, and walked out the door. As he left the lobby of his building, he tossed the clock to a homeless man on the curb. The man caught it, looked up at him, confused. Constantine kept walking. 
 
 *God. What an asshole. * 
 
 
 
 

