This is my first Ghost Rider fanfiction, taking place after the movie by several years.

Disclaimer: The rights to Ghost rider belong to Marvel and the film rights to Columbia Pictures.

Prologue

There are some things that were never meant to be born, yet many still march across the three plains: Paradise, Inferno and physical.

The child screamed for his mother within the darkness of his hiding place as blood splattered against the doors of the wardrobe and their attacks rattled against the doors, slamming their fist, dealing kicks and roaring at him.

Many years ago, when the Earth was still new, a war broke out between Paradise and Inferno. Many fell and many died. The war raged on for hundreds of years… until after seeing the destruction that would ravish its creation, the Creator sent an angel to protect its people, to protect the innocent of the Earth…

The door to the room was slammed open and his protector stepped through.

An angel with power over fire, from both Paradise and the dark Pit…

The child heard the cracking sound of fire that comforted him somewhat, but that comfort was shattered when more blood splattered against the Venetian door of the wardrobe, some of which slid gracefully through the blinds and onto his tiny face. He cried.

The war on earth ended. But at a price. The angel had given his heart to a mortal and whilst on the battlefield she was dealt fatal wounds…

Fresh tears rolled down his face as he saw one of his attackers head slam against the doors before being snapped between expert fingers. The others were dealt with quickly and simply: ones head was driven through another's chest before his heart was torn out and the third was beheaded with a chain of metal and hell fire.

He made a deal to save her life and to end the war, but whist she survived… he was tricked.

The crackling moved closer to the wardrobe.

Trapped in hell, he was corrupted and his mission to protect the innocent was perverted to punish the guilty. Everyone, man, woman or child, commits some form of sin, some stain across his or her soul. We are all guilty of some sin.

So was she.

The child's eyes snapped shut as the Venetian doors were flung open, "Daddy." He whimpered.

The angel became Metropolises' spirit of Vengeance and over the centuries was placed into the bodies of numerous hosts until he was bound to Jonathan Blaze.

Empty eye sockets glared down at the child; watching the shuddering movements that the boy made, almost humming with pure, unbridled fear that only an innocent child could possess.

The former angel, now a demon, never expected to see his old flame walking the earth, hunting down creatures guilty of sin and protecting the innocent: as was her assignment given to her by the Creator. He never expected to be released from Jonathan and to never need a host again. He never expected for her to believe that his sanity had been restored…

Or for her to become his mate once again.

"Son."

The boy – whilst still shuddering – raise his head to father. Lifting his arms above his head, he balled his minuscule hands into fists, "Daddy."

The Spirit of Vengeance picked the child up with his leather-covered arms and carried him through the destroyed house. Door ways and wooden furniture were splintered, metal objects broken and bent out of shape, shattered glass and blood painted across the walls. That was perhaps the worst thing that had happened to this once beautiful house: the blood that now made the walls sodden, seeped into them until the very smell of death permeated them.

The boy whimpered and dug his head into his father's bony and skinless neck.

"Soon child."

"Daddy."

He understood the child's distress, but knew not how to ease it. He – The Ghost Rider – could hear the child's mother dispatching the last few offenders in her living room.

Mere moments later, she entered the hallway, blood drenching her long curly hair. Her tense form relaxed when she saw the child in the Rider's arms.

"We must leave now." He ordered.

His empty eye sockets focused on the boy who was now looking up at him, fingers gripping the Rider's leather jacket.

The mother nodded, "I know a place – a safe house – we can take him there."

"No. You must take him. I shall finish the rest. When it is safe I'll find you. Until then, stay safe."

With that she took the child from him and hurried to her car. Placing the boy inside, she turned the ignition key, the engine roaring to life. Her eyes went to the Rider before her foot plunged down onto the pedal and the car speed away from what had once been their home.

Now the fate of all rests with their child. The son of the Ghost Rider: Caelan Balthazar Abrahams.