From the elemental-haunted swamps of Louisiana to the gray emptiness of Limbo, there"s precious few places under Heaven where John Constantine hasn"t paused to have a few drinks and drop some cigarette butts. Usually not too many people notice him, which is a lucky thing, since misfortune and mayhem inevitably follow in his footsteps. But wherever he goes, there"s always someone - or something - that is drawn like a moth to his dark flame.