The club was dark, having different color lights dance around the area. A large man was behind the bar surviving drinks, with barley dressed women dancing on the stages and bars nearby. A man walked up, wearing a suit as he talked to the man behind the bar, who nodded and handed the man a large bottle of alcohol. The man in a suit made a joke and the two chuckled as he walked off, going to a door that lead downstairs.
The basement was much brighter as the man in the suit entered a room, where four more guys were. There was another man, tied to a chair with duck tape on his mouth. One man punched the guy a few times as the others took a swig of the drink.
"Well boy, you better hope John shows up with that amulet." He said, hitting the man in the gut. "Gotta say Justin, you're not nearly as much as as when you are on fire." He laughed with the others. Justin didn't say anything, as he had a little secret. The duck tape was starting to come loose.
John Constantine walked into the bar, looking around. "Leave it to the punk to get captured in a place like this. What happened to the good ole days when these things happened at a warehouse?" He asked and walked over to the bar, talking to the large man. The man nodded and went to make a phone call.