Hey people! Here's my first proper attempt at a Ghost Rider story, so cut me some slack! Hehe, just kidding, flame me if you want. Your flames will be used to cook my marshmallows. Nice reviewers shall receive these marshmallows. OK, sorry about that odd moment.
This idea recently popped into my head, so I thought I ought to post it. It's Movieverse (God, how I love the film!), and by no means do I own anything to do with Ghost Rider, except any OCs.
I really hope you enjoy it, but I apologize if it's not very good and all the details are wrong. I kinda made it up on the spot! Let's ride, folks!
CHAPTER THE FIRST - REVENGE
The sky was a fierce curtain of fire, crimson and gold and vermillion splashed across the sky, the vibrant colours of the sunset intermingling to form a daily splendour of nature. The sun was a molten orb melting the firmament around it into a leaky puddle as it dipped below the horizon swiftly, as if fleeing the shadows of night that were already descending like a black carrion bird's wings. The first stars flickered into life, only to be snuffed out by a darkness deeper than normal twilight, thicker than a lake of pitch. The rolling sands of the desert might as well have been crystals of ice – the air seemed to freeze when an odd chill drew in once the sun was dead. Something wicked was coming; something beyond the realms of mortals.
A shadowy figure peeled from the night. It moved steadily forwards, its steps deliberately slow as they crunched over the brittle grains of sand. It was humanoid in form and masculine, wearing dark clothing and leaning lightly on a sturdy cane. He came to a halt in a seemingly unremarkable spot, waiting. His eyes smouldered with treacherous glee, but then a mask flipped up to show grim remorse on his chiselled ageless features when it sensed another person approach.
Another man came into view as he crested a dune, trudging quickly down the slope, his feet plunging into the sand in his haste. His arrival was no where near as ghostly and elegant as the other older man, who now cocked his head to the side as the younger fellow skidded to a stop in front of him.
The younger man bowed stiffly, panting a little. "My lord, Mephistopheles."
"Loki" answered Mephisto, scrutinizing the young, demonic man, trying to hide the hints of disdain that pulled at the corners of his mouth.
He was almost ashamed to call this sorry excuse for an Underworld child his grandson. Loki was a bastard child of Blackheart and some sinful, wretched woman that was now writhing in the flames of Hell. She gave birth to the little bundle of fear just before the ground opened up and swallowed her. Blackheart wanted nothing more than to dispose of the half-mortal child, forget the newborn burden. But he was responsible for the creation of the child, and had for some reason beyond Mephisto allowed Loki to live in the lesser realms of Hell.
Mephistopheles had never accepted the half-demon into his kingdom, only allowing him to live because he was related in blood to him. One never knew when your demon family could come in handy. But with Blackheart defeated and suffering a fate worse than all the death in the world, Mephisto had no reason to let Loki remain breathing. Except one.
"Why did you summon me here, my lord?" frowned the young demon.
Mephisto bit down the cold smirk that was surfacing. He swallowed and tried to look sincere. "You know of the Ghost Rider, yes?" said the Underworld lord, his voice gravely and low, as ever.
"Yes," replied Loki slowly. "One of your favourites creations, right? A fiery bounty hunter. But, what's this got to do with me? Is he causing you trouble?"
"As a matter of fact, he has recently," Mephisto snarled. "The damn servant betrayed me and has gone rogue, as a 'Spirit of Vengeance' (he spat out the title as if it was poison). But that's not the point, boy. It concerns your father; your rebellious, ambitiously-failing father."
"Blackheart?" murmured Loki. He hadn't seen is father for decades, and their last meeting had been anything but civil. To Loki, 'father' was just a title. It didn't mean anything to him. They were bonded by blood alone, and not love. There was no love in a demon's world. Or was there?
"Ah-huh," said Mephisto, taking a step closer, his cane sinking deeply into the sand with a forceful pierce. "You know that Blackheart went astray, and is attempting to overthrow me and declare himself King of Hell. He's summoned his followers, opposed me for well over 100 years. Did you think he would fail?"
The young man shrugged. He didn't really know what to say.
Mephisto grinned in mock sadness and shook his head. "Ah, my poor son. He was a fool to think he could take me on and win. The Ghost Rider's gone and dealt his judgement, and now Blackheart's locked down in the deepest circle of Hell-"
"No…" whispered Loki, unable to accept the truth.
"And will be held there and tortured until I see that justice is served, which is likely to be never."
"No!" shouted Loki. "Blackheart couldn't be so easily defeated by a mere Ghost Rider! He is far too powerful!"
Mephisto snorted. "Blackheart even managed to claim the Contract of San Venganza and every damned soul with it. But even with a legion of evil spirits, Blackheart was thwarted by a simple Penance Stare."
Loki growled, the sound feral and shaking his vocal cords. "And you're just going to torment Blackheart till the End of Days? Your own son?"
"I'd be lying if I said I was sad that he failed," sighed Mephisto, his fierce eyes glinting malignantly. "He deserves everything he'll receive."
Loki's eyes darkened and became wild, midnight blue turning to inky, fathomless pits of fury. His mouth stretched into a chasm of slender fangs with a long black tongue as a screech escaped his throat and he lunged forwards till he was inches from his grandfather. The demon had no idea why he felt such anger, such sorrow, for a creature he loathed and would never call father. Why was he defending his honour? Love was impossible in a demon's heart, so what was this strange feeling?
"Loki, Loki, Loki," sighed Mephistopheles, lips twisting as he was unaffected by the sign of aggression and retained his calm, dominating demeanour. "It is my duty to punish those who seek to destroy me. It is my nature; I am the Prince of Darkness, and I can do whatever I want with my enemies, even my own son. But you're forgetting something." He leaned in closer, his voice persuasive; a hissing, venomous serpent's tone. Loki tenses as the words slithered into his ear.
"If it wasn't for the Ghost Rider, your father would never have been caught. He would still be creating chaos and trying to kill me."
"But you were the one who set the Ghost Rider on Blackheart in the first place!" Loki protested.
"True. But can you blame me? You would do the same. You would summon your greatest weapon against your nemesis. If you're seeking vengeance, take it out on the Rider, not me. You are half-mortal, Loki, and if you try to harm me, you'll be crushed."
"Piss off!" growled Loki.
"Calm yourself boy. How about, I offer you a deal?" Mephisto shivered inwardly with delight: he loved to gamble.
"A deal?" frowned Loki. He knew of his grandfather's trickery and corruption in deal making, and didn't want to fall into the same trap. But he still hung onto every word.
"If you kill Johnny Blaze, the Ghost Rider, perhaps I shall consider your father's imprisonment. Perhaps, I shall bend the rules, lessen the torture, reduce the time of punishment."
"You would do that?"
"Perhaps" Mephisto smirked.
Loki said nothing, but the answer was clear.
"You have 24 hours," murmured Mephisto. "If you do not succeed, you shall earn you fair share of your father's retribution."
And the demon lord evaporated into curling smoke, carried away by a freezing wind, leaving the young demon alone with the weight of the mission.
So, how's that for chapter one? Johnny's gonna be in chapter two! Can't wait to write him up! Feedback will be lovely, thanks. :)