A/N: Happy New Year to you readers. So to kick off the New Year me and my friend, Uiop12092, have decided to come together and do a collab story for Agents of SHIELD, Ghostrider. Hope you guys enjoy the ride.

Summary: All Robbie could see since the accident were souls. Good and evil, black and white. IT burned within him for their justice and he could only oblige. In SHIELD the nightmares came, waking him up to burnt sheets as IT cried for vengeance. There was one soul, one demonic shadow, that called to IT stronger than the rest. One that lived next to him every night. Phil Coulson.

Chapter One: Devil May Cry

Monsters are real, ghosts are real too. They live inside us and sometimes… they win.

It was never quiet on these streets. Even in the dead of night, there was always some noise to be heard by those who would listen. Some would hear the gangs and thugs who ruled the streets. Others would hear their victims. No one did anything about it though. If the police couldn't even bothered to get the crime under control, how could the civilians do anything about it?

Robbie used to think that way.

He knew all about the gangs, Fifth Street specifically. The street gangs were the talk of this part of the city. Everyone knew who they were yet no one would dare try to get them arrested out of fear. No one would stand up. That is, until the reports of a man-no a creature- with the head of a skull and flames for hair with a black '69 dodge had come into the picture.

His name to the public was Ghost Rider, but among individuals he was called the Devil, El Diablo. At night, he prowled the streets in search of those who had done wrong. If he found you guilty, his fire would burn your very soul. Robbie never paid much attention to what people said about the Ghost Rider though. Most of it was rumor and speculation and he had no intention of telling anyone the truth. This was his secret to hide. His burden to carry.

Robbie glanced at the time on his dashboard, 10:24. For the past hour, he had been driving around the neighborhood in order to do its bidding. Ghost Rider usually came out before ten in the evening, but today the call for vengeance hadn't been strong for him. A sign for an easy night. All that was needed for Ghost Rider to come out was a whiff of guilt. Not for that person to feel guilty, but for them to be guilty. Anyone could be guilty of a crime and not feel remorse for it.

I'm not guilty!

I don't deserve to die.

Those were the two most popular phrases It heard whenever he claimed his victims. Some truly believed themselves to be innocent, but It knew better than they did. Robbie released a breath. Perhaps he could go home tonight without having any blood on his clothes. His brother, Gabe, had seen it on his shirt two weeks ago. Robbie knew that he wouldn't be able to hide this from Gabe forever, but he would damn well try.

He felt the pull.

At first he wasn't sure what to make of the feeling. In his mind it felt as though he had a sixth sense, where he knew when someone guilty was nearby. On most nights he did It's bidding, but there have been a few times where their roles were reversed. Sometimes he would call on It to do as he wished and bring vengeance to those who had done him wrong. Robbie pressed his foot on the gas pedal, the sound of screeching tires and the rev of the engine filled his ears. Despite the dark places this car would take him, he loved the sound of his baby when she came alive.

Four men were killed by Ghost Rider that very night. Robbie watched the light leave their eyes. He felt their blood seep into his clothes yet he felt no remorse for what he, It, had done to them.

They got what they deserved.

That was what he told himself anyway. It made sense in his mind that what he was doing was not wrong, but vengeance. Yet at the same time he knew what he was doing was wrong. Regardless of the reasons. Taking another's life in this way was never the right thing to do.

Robbie stared down at the fifth man. It, the Ghost Rider, remained a voice in Robbie's mind. A phantom who told him what to do and when to do it. If Robbie really wanted to he could fight off Ghost Rider, but most of the time he didn't want to. The dark and twisted part of him enjoyed being the monster that people feared.

"Please," the fifth man begged as he tried to scoot away, "Please don't kill me. I don't deserve to die!"

Ghost Rider stared down at the pleading man with flaming eyes. The man was guilty for his crimes against the innocent. The aura outlined him in deep red with specks of dark green. A survivor. A jealous man. Robbie focused on the third color that stood out in lines, they reminded of him vines wrapped around a tree. Indigo mixed with purple.

Blemishes that were starting to run deep. He deserved to be punished.

The work with gangs such as El Segundo or WD had practically soaked the man in blood. Robbie kept his eyes trained on the man, in his mind he could see inside this man's head. Every horrible deed he had done came to the forefront of his mind. One kill after the other. Every deal and sick trade that resulted in the harm of another played in Robbie's mind.

It grew angry.

This man had plenty of blood on his hands. It was time he paid with his own blood, now.

That's what they all say, thought Robbie as he delivered the final blow to the man's head. Done. He turned around to get back into his dodge when he spotted a woman watching a ways from him. While he stood in the middle of the road, she was on the sidewalk with half her body still hidden behind a newspaper stand. It was dark out except for the street lamps behind him and the flames that danced on his head throwing skeletal shadows on the asphalt.

He stared at her. It sensed nothing deserving of punishment. There was blood on her hands, that much Robbie could see on the aura that surrounded her, but it was justified. She wasn't guilty and therefore Ghost Rider turned away. He climbed into the driver's seat of his '69 Dodge Charger.

The woman had stepped out of her spot into the street. Robbie looked at her in the rear view mirror for a moment longer before starting his car and speeding away.

"I told you not to engage him," reprimanded the voice in her ear.

The younger agent couldn't help but to smirk. She hadn't meant for the Ghost Rider to see her, she only meant to get a closer look at the flaming skull headed man. It just so happened that when she moved out of her hiding spot did he decide to turn her way. Originally she had planned to stop him from killing those men, but the voices in her ear forced her to hold her ground. It seemed no matter what she did, more blood would stain her hands.

Death follows you wherever you go.

She shook her head. She couldn't think like that now. Though her heart began to race as unwanted thoughts began to fill her mind, she kept her voice light.

"Technically," she answered, "I didn't engage him. He just happened to look this way."

She could practically hear her boss roll his eyes at her comment, "Just come back in. A pod will be in the alley behind you."

"Okay Coulson," replied the woman.

For weeks she had been searching for the mysterious Ghost Rider. The monster and black knight who walked through these streets protecting the innocent and killing the guilty. From her research she knew that the Ghost Rider only killed those who had a history with the law or were doing illegal activity and hadn't been caught yet. It was an interesting situation in her mind, not unusual though. For a little while longer, she stayed rooted in her spot staring off in the direction Ghost Rider had gone.

"Daisy," she heard Coulson say into her ear. Even though his voice had been low, she still jumped slightly.

"I'm coming," she said, her eyes still trained on the spot where Ghost Rider had been before abruptly turning away.