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Post by fan4 on May 6, 2007 21:41:11 GMT -5
Ghost Rider #7 Better the Devil You Know, Part 1 Written by Mike Bowen Edited by Aaron Martel Blackheart slammed shut the tome and cackled with glee. “I’ve finally found it,” he said to himself. “After all these years, I’ve finally found a way!” The demon-son of Mephisto walked slowly towards the small door that led out into the broader hallways of his father’s realm. Waiting patiently was a lesser demon, acting as a lookout as Blackheart pilfered through the ancient library even he was barred from being in. “Did you find what you need, sir?” the small demon asked softly, his forked tongue darting in and out. “Quiet, you fool!” Blackheart hissed back. “My father has ears everywhere. I need you to rally all those loyal to me. Can you do that, Gangthet?” The small demon shook his head. “Impossible. The dark lord would begin to suspect. If we started moving in force before we have the means to dethrone him, he’ll wipe us out.” Blackheart’s massive fist crashed into the stone wall on his right, leaving a fist-sized hole. “Then we need to find someone to act on our behalf that will not arouse attention,” he sighed. “There are plenty in the mortal world that would aid you,” Gangthet said with a knowing look. “That there are,” Blackheart mused. “But the first thing we need to do is find a way to remove the Rider from the picture. And after all that searching, I think I’ve finally found the way.”
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Post by fan4 on May 6, 2007 21:43:23 GMT -5
The cold New York rain did nothing to lessen the heat from Ghost Rider’s penance stare as it melted the soul of another murderer. His screams of agony filled the night as the Rider soaked it in, reveling in sending another evil on to its final resting place.
“Feel the pain, evil one,” the words grated out of the bone mouth. “Your kind will never learn. Whenever you commit your heinous acts I will be there to extinguish your light, but not before I revisit upon you all the pain you have inflicted on others.”
The man did not answer. How could he with hellfire filling his lungs, burning away the precious alveoli that allows a human to exchange carbon dioxide and oxygen within the body. Ghost Rider’s chain crept over his shoulder and snaked its way around the man’s torso, squeezing tighter and tighter, forcing him to try and draw more air into his flaming lungs.
The Spirit of Vengeance watched as the man’s eyes bugged before turning blood red as the tiny blood vessels surrounding them burst. Seconds later the murderer expired, leaving Ghost Rider holding the smoking corpse as the hellfire began to eat its way through the man’s chest. He tossed the body to the side, the chain unraveling on its own and wrapping itself back around the demon’s wrist.
“Do you have to be so melodramatic all the time,” came a voice from behind Ghost Rider as Caretaker stepped from the shadows.
“You!” Ghost Rider snarled. “What are you doing here?”
“Making sure you don’t get yourself in trouble again,” Caretaker replied. “Who do you think had to save your flaming bacon when you got yourself mixed up with that crazy sorcerer trying to find mystical cities?”
“I don’t need your help,” Ghost Rider said.
“Maybe, maybe not. One thing’s for sure, I’m glad to see more of Johnny coming out in your personality lately. That means the transformation is becoming more and more natural.”
“What do you want, old man?” the Rider replied.
“Something big is brewing. I don’t know what yet, but it’s big and you are going to be in the center of it.”
“I don’t need your help,” Ghost Rider repeated.
“Sure you don’t,” Caretaker said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I just thought I’d let you know what I’ve been hearing.”
The man glanced at the corpse lying beside Ghost Rider. “Keep up the good work.”
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Post by fan4 on May 6, 2007 21:45:06 GMT -5
“120,000 dollars,” Stephen Lords said to the large man seated across from him in a jet-black suit. “You want the boy dead, it’s going to cost you.”
“My father knows your true identity, Mr. Lords,” the man started. “For whatever his reasons, he has decided to ignore your activities on Earth, even when it conflicts with his plans. You must be aware that not even a Translord like yourself could stand up to him if he decides to end your little organization here.”
“And your offer to keep me off his radar is appreciated,” Lords said, “But like I said, it’s going to cost you if you want this kid dead.”
“Fine,” the man in black said. He produced a briefcase out of thin air and slid it across the desk to the handsome, pony-tailed man in a fine Italian suit. He then produced an envelope. “And here is the target.”
Lords opened up the clasp on the envelope and removed the picture. It was a young man, no older than 25, with light brown hair and blue eyes. He looked like any normal guy one would find anywhere in the United States.
“Why do you want…” He flipped the photo over and read the card attached with a paperclip. “’Dan Ketch’ dead?”
“My reasons are my own. Just make sure he is taken care of.”
Lords unlatched the briefcase and quickly calculated the amount of money. When he finished, his eyes flashed red with excitement. “It’ll be taken care of.”
“Thank you, Lords. We’ll be in touch.” And with that the large man vanished in a wisp of black smoke.
Lords hit the intercom on his desk. “Hutchinson, Graveli, get in here.”
The door swung open to reveal two slimy looking wise guys, complete with tracksuits and dark sunglasses.
“You wanted to see us, boss?” the taller one, Graveli, said.
Lords tossed the envelope and picture to the men. “Take care of it.”
Hutchinson snatched the picture away from his partner. “But boss, he’s just a kid.”
“Does that bother you, Mr. Hutchinson?” Lords answered quickly. “Because if it does, then I'm afraid-“
“No, sir,” Hutchinson interrupted, knowing he didn’t want Lords to finish that sentence.
“Good. Then get out of here and take care of it before I find someone who will.”
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Post by fan4 on May 6, 2007 21:46:06 GMT -5
“Barbara! Tell mom I’m going out front to try and get my bike started!”
Dan Ketch bounded down the stairs from the second floor of his mother’s quaint three bedroom house in one of the more affluent Queens suburbs. He carried with him a small toolbox, held closed by a small length of chain.
“Danny, mom said we needed to be ready to go to dinner within the hour!” his sister Barbara yelled back from her upstairs bedroom. “It’s her birthday, for god’s sake.”
“An hour! Got it!” he yelled back as he kicked open the screen door and went down the steps into the driveway. There sat his black Kawasaki Ninja. He had laid the bike down a week ago trying to take a corner too fast and something must have come loose in the engine, as now the bike wouldn’t start.
He was so interested in trying to get it back up and running that he didn’t notice the large black sedan with tinted windows idling near the end of the block on the other side of the street.
Inside the car Hutchinson and Graveli watched as Ketch sat on a small stool and began to tinker with the motorcycle’s engine.
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Post by fan4 on May 6, 2007 21:46:57 GMT -5
“That him?” Hutchison asked to his partner behind the wheel.
“Looks like it. You ready?”
Hutchinson spread his legs to reveal the pump action shotgun he had on the floorboard. He lifted it up and pumped it once, chambering a round. Graveli turned the key and the car’s engine roared to life as he then floored it down the quiet street.
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Post by fan4 on May 6, 2007 21:47:49 GMT -5
Danny heard the screech of the tires, but didn’t bother to look up. Ever since the movie The Fast and the Furious came out every rich kid with daddy’s money to spend had tried to become a “street racer”. Screeching tires was nothing new to Ketch. Only when it was too late did Danny turn around to see Hutchinson hanging out the window of the sedan with a shotgun pointed directly at him.
The roar of the blast sounded like a bomb going off in Ketch’s ears seconds before the bb’s tore through his chest with precision. The force of the shot knocked Danny’s limp body backwards over his bike, leaving him in a pool of blood and motor oil as the car sped off out of sight.
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Post by fan4 on May 6, 2007 21:50:05 GMT -5
Blackheart wasn’t his father. He didn't have time for deals or bargains. Not with a clandestine mission like this.
When Danny’s soul appeared he was waiting for it and quickly had his demons bind the young man. He also didn’t have the benefit of his father’s surgeon.
Ketch struggled as Blackheart’s taloned fingers clawed their way around his guts. The pain must have been horrible, but the gag prevented the boy from making any audible sounds.
He removed his bloody hand from Ketch’s chest and reached for a small shard of metal that was handed to him by another demon. With a wet plop he plunged his hand back inside of the boy’s chest, leaving the shard of metal inside him.
“It’s done,” Blackheart said, licking the blood off his hand. “Make sure he doesn’t remember any of this, but that he does know that it was Lords who tried to have him killed. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone.”
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Post by fan4 on May 6, 2007 21:51:11 GMT -5
Frances Ketch held her son’s hands as the hospital’s respirators continued to pump air into his lungs. She had been here day and night since Daniel was shot in a drive-by shooting a week ago. He hadn’t woken up since then, but the doctors were optimistic he could pull through.
She had just dozed off to sleep, not an easy thing to do when watching your only son possibly dying in a hospital bed, when she heard a loud cough and felt Dan’s hand stir. When she opened her eyes, she couldn’t believe what she saw. Dan was pulling out his breathing tube and looking wildly around the room.
“Daniel!” she shouted and moved in quickly to wrap her arms around him.
“Mom! Where am I?” he asked as he tried to return the hug, but his right arm, attached to the IV, made it impossible.
“The hospital, honey. We were so worried about you.”
“The last thing I remember was being in the driveway-“
“Don’t worry about that. You are fine now.”
“But why- who?”
“The police have no I.D.s or any idea why,” Frances said. “But you’re alive, that’s all I care about.”
Two hours later, after a thorough check by the doctors, Ketch was released and sent home with his family. After a lively dinner with his mother and sister, Dan went off to his room.
He wasn’t going to rest, but to plot.
He didn’t know how, but he knew exactly who sent those men to kill him. And it was only a matter of time before he would take his revenge on Stephen Lords. Unbeknownst to Dan, invisible, heatless hellfire began to ripple over his body.
Outside of the house in the shadows crept an older man. He wore a beat-up hat pulled low over his eyes and his dirty, salt and pepper hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He saw the flare of hellfire through the window in Dan’s room. He watched still for a few minutes more, but nothing else happened. Without warning, the man appeared in Ketch’s room as the boy lain down on his bed to go to sleep. Caretaker could see the hellfire engulfing Ketch’s body.
This is not good. This shouldn’t be happening.
Ketch could not see his watcher. He drifted off to sleep muttering one simple word... “Vengeance.”
To be continued…
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