John Constantine

Johhhhnnn... K-KAK-KAK-KAK... onstantiiiine...

No. Way. Out. Thisssss time.

["Now, listen here, gents," the barkeep starts, before one of said gents devours his torso and splutters bone shrapnel across the room.]

[The windows of the pub are seeping in ooze, blackened from the outside. There can be no escape.]

[At last the doorway yields. The entity bursts through with a crash in the form of five dead-eyed men with unhinged jaws.]

[It lurks outside, unseen, struggling to focus on its prey. Through the glass it can just about see him, but it cannot enter.]

[Something about the smoke filled old building known as the Northampton Arms is impenetrable.]