Ghost Rider #8

[Spider-Man Beyond]

Ghost Rider #8
Better the Devil You Know... Part 2

Written by Mike Bowen (Spiritofvengeance)
Edited by Daniel Dyer (Spider-Man Beyond)

Blackheart sat silently pondering his next move against his father’s throne. To a human being, the mind-numbing screams of the damned being tortured wouldn’t be conducive to deep thought, but for Blackheart it was soothing.

The monster’s fire-red eyes started to droop, almost as if the screams were putting him to sleep when a small demon burst into the room, drawing Blackheart’s ire.

“Why disturb me now!” he bellowed at the demon.

The tiny thing smoothed its scaly wings over its scarred torso, almost whimpering in the presence of one so powerful. If one looked closely at the scars on the small demon, they would matchup perfectly with the claws on Blackheart’s right hand. “Rishcaw has returned, Master,” the demon wheezed. “He’s brought an answer.”

The news jarred Blackheart out of his seat. With his triumph in igniting the latent curse within Dan Ketch, he’d almost forgotten that he¹d sent one of his emissaries to the farthest reaches of the Arctic to try and forge an alliance with the mother of all demons. Lilith.

Little was actually known of Lilith, save for tales of her vast power and the legacy of her myriad of progeny that have wreaked havoc across the globe. Mephisto has given her a wide berth, though she is still stuck in the Arctic, imprisoned in the belly of an ancient leviathan by sorcerers just before the fall of Atlantis.

Given that his father either fears her or respects her powers, it was only natural that Blackheart had tried to enlist her aid.

“Excellent,” he sneered, a thick, black tongue flicking out between his jagged teeth. “Bring him in before me now!”

The messenger demon bowed quickly and skittered from the room, his talons clicking on the hard stone. Moments later the door swung open and in limped Rishcaw. Normally a stout demon of medium power, Rishcaw looked as if he went to war with Mephisto himself. The entire right side of his body was burnt black, his flesh peeling off to reveal pink muscles underneath. The majestic horns that he took so much pride in were cracked and splintered. His entire right arm was missing from his elbow down.

Blackheart held down a chuckle as he watched his envoy limp into the room. “Do I need to even ask what the answer is?” he said in an annoyed tone.

“The lady Lilith bids you thanks,” Rishcaw stuttered. “Please accept the use of her son Blackout as you see fit.”

A look of astonishment spread over Blackheart’s face. “She agreed?”

“The lady Lilith bids you thanks,” Rishcaw replied. “Please accept the use of her son Blackout as you see fit.”

“Is that all you can say, you feeble-minded littl...”

“Greetings, Blackheart,” came the cold, stark voice of a female from the demon’s mouth. “I¹ve heard your proposal and can spare one of my Lillin to assist you in your quest. My son, Blackout, will be arriving shortly.” With that, smoke began to rise from the head of Rishcaw as fire burned its way through his skull. At first it seemed like the fire was about to burst through his chest, but as Blackheart watched it was a hand, not fire pushing its way towards the open air.

With a sickening pop, the hand burst through the demon’s chest and began to rip at the flesh surrounding it. After several minutes, a pale, nude man was kneeling on the chamber floor, covered in the demon’s thick, black blood.

“Blackout, I presume?” Blackheart questioned as the figure began to rise.

“That’s right,” it answered as he licked the blood off of his fingers. “You must be the boss man. You don’t look important enough to me that Mother would send me to help you.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Blackheart muttered. “But I do need your help. I need a man killed, but he is the only one I want you to kill. Any innocent blood you spill will lead only to your demise if you confront him.”

“No problem,” Blackout said. “But why can’t you just do this yourself?”

“Impossible,” Blackheart countered. “My involvement in this must be kept a secret. Now go, and make sure you get the job done.”

* * *

[Spider-Man Beyond]

Detective Michael Badilino sat in the squad room of the 5th precinct, thumbing through a pile of newspaper clippings on his desk. Each one was emblazoned with an artists sketch of a demonic-looking man on a motorcycle. All were different but the one thing that remained was the flaming skull on top of the figure’s shoulders.

There were sightings reported all over the city, the first ones stated that he was some kind of hero, helping out all kinds of people in distress and doing all sorts of good deeds. But lately the reports have turned grim. This “Demon Biker” was attacking subjects at random. In fact, just last Thursday the unit got a security tape footage of the creature ransacking a downtown office building owned by millionaire industrialist Steven Lords.

Another folder being slapped down on the desk jarred him from his thoughts. “It just keeps getting better, Baldy,” Sgt. Ricardo Martinez laughed as he spun the file towards Badilino. “Just last night our guy killed three men, and get this, all had ties to Lords.”

Badilino pulled off his glasses and tossed them on the desk. His squeezed the bridge of his nose. He’d been on the Demon Biker task force since the chief formed it over a month ago. But in that short time he was sure he’d gotten more gray hair than he ever had in his whole life. “There has to be something to this,” he jabbed a finger on a picture of Lords in the Daily News.

“He’s one of the richest men on the East Coast, Baldy. The guy’s squeaky clean,” Martinez replied.

“Nobody’s completely clean, Martinez. Get on him,” Badilino said, his voice raising. “There’s got to be some connection between these two.”

* * *

[Spider-Man Beyond]

Johnny Blaze rolled out of bed shortly before noon. As soon as his feet hit the floor pain shot through his joints. His double life was starting to take a toll on him. He was starting to get the hang of it, but it was hard not having any control over himself when he was the Ghost Rider.

He struggled towards the door to the bedroom, when he heard something shift to his left. As he turned to face the sound, the flat part of a shovel crashed into his face, knocking him to the floor.

“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Caretaker shouted as he tossed a newspaper onto Blaze’s heaving chest.

Blaze had an incredulous look on his face as he wiped the blood oozing from his nose. He started to get up, but Caretaker stopped him with the handle of his shovel on his chest.

“What are you doing?” Blaze huffed. “I don’t have any idea what you are talking about.”

“You wouldn’t,” the old man snapped. “Once you¹re the Rider, nothing else matters. Just read the paper, idiot.”

Blaze sighed and picked up the newspaper to a huge caricature of himself on the front page. “Demon Rider Suspect In Office Slaughter,”² blared the headline, followed by a short story of the three men killed at an office building owned by someone named Lords.

“I don”t know anything about this,” Blaze said softly. “And you are always around, wouldn’t you know if I was doing something like that?”

Caretaker’s face softened. “I might have made a mistake. It must be that...” his voice trailed off as he started to disappear.

"Wait!” Blaze shouted. “What’s going on?!”

But it was too late. Caretaker had vanished, leaving Blaze with more questions and a bloody nose.

He grabbed the newspaper and scanned it again. Lords, Lords... that’s the gangster I ran into in the cemetery! There has to be some sort of connection.

Johnny grabbed his jacket and headed out.

* * *

[Spider-Man Beyond]

Blaze arrived at the Lords Building with plenty of time to spare and took a seat in the posh lobby, pretending to read a magazine and watch the various people come and go.

He waited and waited, until the building was closing around dusk and he was asked to leave by a pair of muscular security guards.

As he milled around outside the building, he spotted a man, probably in his 20's, hanging around the shadows. After watching him for what seemed like hours, Blaze decided to approach him.

He’d never seen the kid before, but as soon as their eyes met he took off in a sprint. Blaze followed, wanting to get to the bottom of the mystery that was surrounding him and his alter ego.

The two ran forever, until the kid ducked into the gates of the Cypress Hills Cemetery.

Blaze skidded to a stop by the gates. “Why does everything have to lead back here?”

A few steps into the cemetery, Blaze was stopped dead in his tracks by something he didn’t expect to find. A nearly exact replica of Ghost Rider staring back at him from further down the path. But it was different. The skull was more bestial than human and was tinged a deep purple. The body was larger, much larger than even Blaze when he transformed and bony spikes poked out from under the leather and chains.

Blaze tried to back away slowly, but the monster howled and started to bound towards him. Johnny turned and ran deeper into the dark cemetery.

Johnny Blaze sprinted through the Cypress Hills Cemetery, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he cleared the first hill. The thing that had been chasing him wasn’t in sight, but it was unmistakable that it was like him, but not quite.

He leaned against one of the few lampposts that dotted the cemetery’s landscape, trying to catch his breath and maybe a glimpse of the hellfire that engulfed his pursuer.

“What are you still doing like that?” a voice shouted from behind him.

Blaze spun to see Caretaker leaning on his shovel, giving him a confused look. “Whatta ya mean?” Blaze shot back to the apparition.

“Christ, boy, are you really that dense? You saw what was after you, the only way you are going to survive against that is to change into your better half.”

Blaze shook his head. “You know the rules.”

“Dammit!” Caretaker had been so caught up in everything that he hasn’t had time to explain things to Blaze. But before he could get another word out, the lamp light went off with a small pop, leaving the pair in darkness.

The man was on Johnny Blaze before he could even react. His hot breath hit his face like a sledgehammer but he managed to wedge his forearm under his assailant’s neck as the large teeth snapped near his exposed shoulder.

Johnny tried to roll to his left, but the weight of his attacker continued to press down upon him. It was now that he got the first real look at him. The man was pale as a ghost, a shock of white hair trailing off his head with several braided strands falling near his blood red eyes. But that wasn’t the scary part, he’d seen his share of albinos around the city. What struck him with fear was the over-sized incisors that were desperately trying to bite into his shoulder or neck. He looked like a vampire straight out of the movies.

“Stop your struggling, meat!” the creature growled. “It will all be over soon.”

The taunt brought new life to Blaze as he tried to roll the attacker off of him, but even though he was as thin as a rail, his strength was inhuman. As a last resort, he brought his knee up to smash into the vampire’s crotch, hoping that even a creature like this would be hurt by that. As the blow connected, the breath exploded from the creature’s body and Blaze felt his grip slacken. He tossed the stunned man off of him and scrambled to his feet.

“I’ll suck the marrow from your bones for that, boy!” the creature shouted as Blaze tried to put distance between himself and the vampire.

Blaze barely heard the threat as he was running for his life. But it quickly occurred to him that he wasn’t going to outrun his attacker. Thinking he heard footsteps, he darted right as the tombstone that would have been in front of him exploded under the force of a clawed hand.

Blaze looked ahead and saw the fence signaling the end of the cemetery and had the fleetest hope of escape. That all ended in an instant as he felt a surge of pain from his back and then his stomach. His feet stopped functioning and he pitched forward on the ground, rolling onto his side. The harsh light of the full moon gave Blaze a peek at what felled him. The silver tip of a spear was jutting from a bleeding wound in his stomach.

“How does it feel to be the prey for once,” Blackout cackled over the fallen hero.

Blaze tried to answer but could only cough up blood.

“Take solace, boy, you put up more fight than I’ve ever seen,” the vampire mused. “It’s been years since I’ve had to resort to the use of a weapon.”

But Blaze wasn’t listening. A voice was whispering in his ear.

“Transform, it’s your only hope,” Caretaker’s even voice echoed in his head.

“Can’t,” Blaze sputtered between bloody coughs. “No control.”

“Who're you talking to?” Blackout questioned. “You losing too much blood on me, meat?”

“You’ve always been in control, Johnny,” Caretaker continued. “There was never anything stopping you from transforming at will and keeping a clear mind while you are at.”

“Impossible...” Blaze wheezed.

“No! Do it now. Focus your pain and anger and save yourself,” Caretaker hissed.

Blaze squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will the transformation to occur. At first the pain was too much and he couldn’t focus, but within seconds he felt his body temperature begin to rise.

Blackout wasn’t paying any attention to Blaze until steam began to seep from his every pore. Slowly the flesh began to melt from Blaze’s face, exposing the white bone underneath. Before Blackout realized what was going on, the prone form of Ghost Rider had taken the place of the dying Johnny Blaze. The only thing that betrayed the secret of Ghost Rider’s identity was the spear running through his midsection.

Blackout turned towards the fiery skull and his mouth dropped open, revealing his large fangs. Ghost Rider was already getting to his feet.

Blackout reacted with the speed of a cat and raked his claws across the cheek of Ghost Rider. Any normal human would have had its flesh torn from the bone, but only sparks leapt off of Ghost Rider’s face.

The Rider didn’t react as he placed a gloved hand on each side of his body, gripping the shaft of the spear in a massive, bony embrace. With a twist he snapped the two parts of the shaft off and dropped them on the ground.

“Now, foul one, your vengeance awaits!”

To be continued...