notes: i don't know, it was begging to be written. also, i was fortunate enough to get amazing pizza from a parlor last night, and i wished to share that happiness with you. the real question here is, has this been done before?
dedication: to high tops and floral-print dresses. oh, and also sunny-umbrella who used to be clarityinscarlet but changed her username, apparently.
disclaimer: own nothing.
other: ghost rider!au. title may be subject to change? also the summary because ew.
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(o)(n)(e)
equilibrium
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(and my scarecrow dreams, they smashed my heart to smithereens)
i.
"Looks like it's going to rain, doesn't it?"
Lucy blinks and glances over her shoulder at her coworker. She's been leaning on the marble countertop for a while now, she knows. Elbows propped against the cool surface, chin tucked away in her hands as she stares out the slightly dusty picture windows of her workplace. In the past half hour or so, angry-looking clouds have clustered together in the sky, and even though she's inside, she can feel the crackling static in the air.
"It hasn't rained in what? Weeks, months? Magnolia has such crazy weather, so I guess that's to blame. Everything's so damn dry," Cana huffs, and runs a hand through her thick, dark hair, "we need a good shower."
The blonde merely nods, russet gaze drifting back to the dreary scene outside. Something sizzles and pops in back in the kitchen, but even though she's not really paying attention, she knows it isn't an order being cooked up. The clock on the wall reads only five pm, and business is slow—almost dragging and monotonous, sometimes—after the lunch rush. Probably just the fryer, she thinks distantly.
Unbalanced electric charges aren't the only thing lingering in the atmosphere today though. There's been an uneasy feeling clinging to her since she'd first woken up this morning; it makes her nervous, and she feels the anxiety building up in her throat as something raises goosebumps on her arms and makes her finger tingle. It's ridiculous and has been distracting her all day, partly because she's been trying to convince herself that everything is fine and she's just being paranoid. But the more she thinks about it, the more it sets her on edge and she knows it's stupid, but there has to be a reason.
Something is going to happen today.
Something very, very bad and she knows because she can feel it deep within her bones. It seems to make itself known through every breath she exhales, the sound of crackling static that comes over the radio every once in a while, the way her old pink sneakers tap against the tiled floor when she walks. It makes her insides churn and her head spin.
A sudden loud crack of thunder makes her jump, elbows slipping off the countertop and all of her breath rushing up her throat at once as she stumbles backward, heart racing. She brings a fist to her chest as Cana looks at her in concern.
The brunette reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder. "Lucy, are you okay? You've been kind of…off, today. Is everything alright?"
She manages what she hopes is a convincing smile and nods a couple of times. "Um, yeah. Yeah. I'm fine. I just…got lost in thought I guess," her laugh echoes shaky and hollow in her ears, "It happens every once in a while."
Cana looks at her suspiciously, but chooses not to comment. Instead, she turns to the windows again. "It's definitely going to rain today," she confirms, "I can feel it."
Lucy opens her mouth to say something—what, she doesn't know yet—but the ring of the bell over the door cuts her off. The two waitresses watch as people flood into the diner, chattering and laughing as they find places to sit and wait for their food. So instead, the blonde pulls a pen and a pad out of her pale blue apron and slaps on a cheery smile as she slips under the counter towards the mass of patrons.
.
.
.
Her shift ends promptly at ten tonight, and her feet and head both ache. She unties her apron and hangs it on the assigned hook before carefully tucking her pen and notepad away inside. Her nametag goes in there, too, and she unpins it from the front of her uniform and slips it into a pocket. It's easier this way, so she doesn't lose it.
She stretches and yawns, waving to the cook—Elfman—as glances up from whatever he is making. He grins and waves back at her, before wishing her a good night. Cana left sometimes ago, because today her shift ends at seven, and a cheery young woman with pretty blue eyes has taken her place tonight. The diner is open twenty-four-seven, and she has never been more grateful that her normal schedule doesn't include working the seven to three shift. While there aren't many customers that come past nine, there are still a few stragglers who show up at odd times during the night, and when they do Fairy Tail is there to serve them.
Mirajane smiles at her as the blonde pulls her coat on over her off-white uniform. "Are you headed home Lucy?"
"Yeah, I'm kind of tired tonight. I took an earlier shift for Kianna last-minute, so I wasn't prepared," the blonde gives her a worn-out smile.
The older woman chuckles. "Oh, a double shift? You'll have to be careful with those, sweetie. You're still in college after all. We wouldn't want you to be so tired that you couldn't function properly in your classes."
Lucy laughs. "I know, I know."
Mira's smile drops after they finishing laughing, and she looks at the younger girl seriously. "Should I have someone walk you home? Elfman's shift is almost over, if you just wait around for fifteen more minutes, then I'm sure he would—"
The blonde holds up a hand and smiles. "It's okay, Mira. I'll be fine."
"Are you sure? Because I could get you a mug of hot chocolate—with those tiny marshmallows and a pinch of cinnamon, just the way you like it—while you wait and then I'd know that you'll be getting home safely."
Lucy places a hand on the other girl's arm. "Really. I'll be okay. I promise."
Mira observes her with a worried frown. "You'll be very careful, right? You'll stay away from anything suspicious?"
"I will not take any candy from a stranger or get into any vans, cross my heart," Lucy grins and traces an 'x' over her chest.
The snow-haired woman rolls her eyes but smiles. "Okay, then I suppose I can let you go. Just text me when you get home, alright? Please?"
"I think I can do that," she winks as she heads toward the door. "I'll see you tomorrow!"
Mira waves at her. "Bye Lucy!"
The blonde steps out into the unusually chilly September night air and in the distance, there's another crack of thunder. She concludes that the temperature probably has something to do with the oncoming storm as she begins her seven block trek home. The feeling from before is still present, and she tries her best to ignore it as she walks. Of course, the fact that it is somewhat late at night and the streetlamps are flickering doesn't help her mentality at all.
Magnolia isn't the worst city in the country, that's for certain, but it isn't the best either. Crime has spiked in the past few years, and it's not exactly safe to walk around town after dark no matter who you are. Mirajane has been more worried about her fellow waitresses going out at night by themselves lately, but not without good reason.
For the past month or so, young women have been disappearing. There's almost always a new case on the nightly news, or reports about them that really have nothing to report at all. Their basic information and a description is given, along with the estimated time of how long they've been missing. But nobody's seen or heard anything at all because the girls have just seemingly disappeared without a trace.
Lucy takes a deep breath and scrunches her nose, willing her brain not to think of what had probably happened to them. She purposely looks the other way as she passes a dark alleyway with lurking figures—probably some sort of drug deal, she thinks—because most of the time, if she leaves them alone and acts as if they're not actually there, they do the same.
Sometimes she has to wonder about the police department in this city, but she knows that they're doing their best at containing everything and trying to clean up the streets. Lately the girls who've been going missing have been their top priority though, so all the other scumbags have been free to run around and do whatever their hearts desire, mostly.
As she nears a seedier part of town that she has to pass through to get to her apartment, she's starting to rethink things. Maybe walking home—by herself or otherwise—wasn't such a good idea. She doesn't have to pass through a large amount of this area, per say, just a block or so because of the construction they're doing on her usual, relatively safe route.
Maybe she should've waited for Elfman—he was kind of a scary-looking guy, to be honest, what with his imposing height, huge muscles, and his intimidating face with the painful-looking scar—or maybe she should have taken the bus. Bus fare was nothing compared to her safety, even if she was just seventeen and was going to college early.
She can tell where she's at the minute she first steps foot in it. The buildings are dilapidated and crumbling from their foundations up, the streets have more potholes and the sidewalks are cracked and broken. Not to mention the whole area has a distinct aura that practically screams trouble. She swallows and picks up her pace.
Okay Lucy, you're okay. Everything is going to be just fine. It's one block. Just a block. Nothing is going to happen to you in just one block.
Her mental pep talk and self-assuring words come crashing down around her as a rough hand reaches out from the shadows and pulls her in. Her breath catches in her throat and her brain almost short-circuits because no, no no no no this cannot be happening this isn't real. The darkness swallows her up as she's dragged deeper into the alley. A scream finally bubbles up in her throat and she opens her mouth to let it escape when a gruff chuckle cuts her off.
"Go ahead, girly. Scream. Nobody'll come for ya. Ain't that a damn shame?"
Lucy's eyes water and she claws at her captor. "Let me go let me go letmego!"
Her russet orbs are wide and terrified when all he does is laugh—a horrible, awful sound that makes her stomach churn and she's almost positive she's going to lose her dinner. They stop suddenly, and she's thrust into the open of arms of somebody.
"I got one for ya, Michael. Lookit her, ain't she a real pretty girl?"
Suddenly her chin is forced up and she looks up in terror at a smirking man. Maybe he could be handsome, she thinks, if the expression on his face wasn't so awful and evil. Maybe if it didn't tell her all she needed to know about her current situation. Maybe if it didn't condemn her to hell.
"My, my, look at you. What's a girl like you doing out here this late at night?"
His voice is smooth and perfectly calm and slimy and she hates, hates, hates it.
It makes her insides crawl.
"You'll bring us a fortune all on your own," this Michael guy concludes, and she feels the entire world stop.
Money. They're going to sell her. They are going to auction her off to some horrible man that's probably even worse than them and who knows what he will do to her.
She bolts.
And she almost makes it out of that alleyway because they obviously hadn't been expecting her to run, but her flight or fight instinct had kicked in and she knows she has to get the hell out of there right damn now.
But just as she almost reaches the street, she's pulled back again. The sudden force makes her head snap backward then forward again, and she's left in a daze. She doesn't fight as her limp body is dragged back once more, or when she's dropped in an undignified heap on the dirty ground.
"You can't run from this," Michael's voice informs her cruelly, however he sounds quite content with himself, "you might as well just accept it. I can't wait to see all the high offers we're going to get for you. We didn't even need to grab those others earlier."
Lucy's vision is still swimming and his voice sounds faraway when it registers in her mind. Others, there are others and there will be more and somebody help them because this should not be happening it has to stop. Maybe she could try running again, maybe she could make it this time because they think she's completely out of it. But her neck hurts and the world is spinning and she still feels like she might vomit. She'd probably fall over if she tried to stand up. There's no way she'd make it.
Just as she is about to resign herself to her horrible fate, there's an engine roar. It's powerful and so very deafening and funnily enough—not that anything is funny at the moment but it isn't—it sounds angry. Beyond angry, possibly furious. Oh lovely, now she's going crazy.
But there is a definite screeching of tires and another loud, furious roar from an equally noisy engine and she blinks a few times, trying to refocus her vision. Her captors are shouting and they sound very, very terrified. She wonders why as she attempts to sit up. Everything sways when she does manage to right herself, and she teeters on the edge of unconsciousness for a few seconds. But then she is somewhat okay, and even though her vision is still incredibly blurry and the sick feeling is still in her stomach, she can kind of see better.
Is that fire? Has it suddenly gotten warmer?
There's a slam of a door, and the engine revs once more. Someone screams—Michael, possibly?—and then she can hear the sound of something swaying—no, spinning? That's it. Something's being swung around at a very high speed.
Lucy shakes her head a few times, and takes a couple of seconds to marvel at the sudden clearness of her vision. And then, she looks up.
She can see the backs of her possible kidnappers—there are actually four of them, how nice—and what she assumes is a crimson-colored Camaro. It's an older model, maybe a '70, but the strange thing is that its tires are…kind of on fire. She squints a little and notices a trail of flames leading out of the alley and possibly up the street.
That's new.
Then she realizes that there's someone standing in front of the car. Or something. It's gripping the long end of a flaming chain with one hand, and the other is raised above its head, rapidly swinging the other end around. It looks like a man, but then again it's kind of hard to tell considering the fact that instead of a normal head and face connected to the neck, there's just a skull. And it's on fire.
Well, then.
.
.
.
end notes: okay so i know a little about ghost rider (comics and storyline) but i'm probably going to butcher this anyway. we actually have the first movie but i am a chicken and the last time i saw it was when i was like, nine or something, and am thus kindofmaybesortofscared to watch it. shh, i know. if you guys can make the connections i'm alluding to in this chapter, feel free to tell me!