DISCLAIMER: I do not own Marvel or Ghost Rider. I do not own any of these characters.

Prologue-When A Stranger Calls

Johnny Blaze had just begun to doze off, when he suddenly woke himself, a persistent feeling of uneasiness having crept up on him. It had been three years since he had returned home to Texas from Europe. Having been there for five years, he had become accustomed to its Old World feel. The adjustment period upon returning had been difficult, not so much for cultural differences, but for the fact that he had basically lived as a hermit during his time across the pond. But he actually missed the camaraderie he felt when he chatted up a clerk in a convenience store as he stopped to fuel up his bike, or when he dropped by a bar. Granted, these were all just casual, day-to-day acquaintances, but still, it felt good being a part of the World again. Especially in a state he had grown up in. He hadn't returned to his hometown just yet, if he was going to at all that is. He had no one left there; Roxanne had moved to Houston, and probably still lived there, and his Dad...well, it was safe to say some bad memories would resurface if he dropped by anytime soon. But he was still considering passing through, as he had faced his worst demon already, so he might as well face the one that laid the foundation for the rest of his troubles. He was now living in Abilene, which wasn't far from where he grew up. He was thinking about pursuing a job as a motorcycle policeman, but that would require some work, like training, background checks, and all that. His stunt man days were behind him, or at least he felt they were. He needed to have a more dependable, less fame-driven means of paying the bills. And he felt compelled to serve his community, wherever that would eventually end up being. When he had been questioned by the authorities all those years ago, not long after he had first became the Ghost Rider, he had been telling the truth. He really did want to be a policeman, as in spite of personal troubles, he had an altruistic spirit that needed to be fed. For now however, he was working odd jobs, handyman type stuff. He had gotten a car to carry some tools around in, but what he really needed was a truck. "One step at a time", he thought. Johnny got up from his couch, a little groggy from his brief period of sleep, and walked over to his living room window. He peaked through the blinds and surveyed the neighborhood. Nothing. Total calmness. Then again, it was close to 1:00 in the morning, so why shouldn't it be quiet? Still, for whatever reason, Johnny felt restless. He made his way back to the couch but didn't sit down right away. He grabbed the remote for the tube off the arm of the couch, and turned it on. He went through the channels quickly, a couple times just to fully assess what was on. Mostly just infomercials.

"Figures", he thought. "Reality TV crap when I get home from work, and then this late at night. Maybe I should consider some of those streaming services?" Those were a relatively new concept to Johnny, having been abroad when they really hit big. He had settled for cable, Suddenlink, as that's what he could afford, and what he was somewhat familiar with. MeTV had some good, classic shows on, but Johnny wasn't relaxed enough to enjoy them presently. He turned off the tube, and set the remote back down on the arm. He reached over and turned on a lamp. "Don't need to watch TV in the dark anymore", he thought. "Getting too old for that shit, not that it's good for anyone's eyes..."

He rubbed some of the gunk out of his eyes, and then put his hands on his hips, wondering what he was going to do till he lost this feeling and went back to sleep. Go out for a bit, maybe? He didn't know. What he did know was that he felt like something bad was going to happen. But did he have anything to worry about anymore? He was no longer a bounty hunter for the Devil, hunting down demons and sending them back to Hell. And he had made peace with his alter ego's near insatiable hunger for evil souls. So what did he have to worry about? Was there someone in the area, about to burglarize someone's house? His house maybe? Whatever it was, Johnny couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, that he was going to need to do something about it, and it was going to happen soon. As he thought all this, his phone rang. It had been loud enough, and Johnny had been so consumed by his anxious thoughts, that he jumped a little. He let it ring one more time before he reached down and answered it.

"Hello?" he said, sounding a little tired.

"Hello Johnny", said the voice on the other end. Johnny's blood ran cold as he recognized the voice of the caller. He was stunned for a moment. It couldn't be. The voice Johnny heard belonged to none other than Mephistopheles, the Devil himself.

"What's wrong, Johnny?", the voice said in response to his silence. "Cat got your tongue?" The last bit was said with a teasing hint of mockery, that came through an inhuman distortion of the voice.

"What the fuck do you want?" Johnny replied back, his voice tinged with a controlled, but heavy rage.

"Oh, nothing much. Just wanted to catch up and see how you were doing, you know, since the last time we spoke you threw me in a hole that lead straight back to Hell," Mephisto said nonchalantly, as if he was really just catching up with an old friend.

"You wanna stop by and have me do it again?" Johnny said back without missing a beat.

"Not really, since it's not what I'd call a fun time," Mephisto replied, a bemused chuckle in his voice. "I want you to meet me at the bar up the street a ways. You know, across from the tattoo place."

"And what makes you think I'd do that?" Johnny said through gritted teeth.

"I don't know. I just figured it wouldn't make any sense for you to ignore me, and then have me cause a scene, all because you were too stubborn to come and have a drink with me," Mephisto replied, still un-phased by the obvious disgust and anger in Johnny's voice. "Meet me in about 15 minutes, and I promise we won't have to get our hands dirty. Or any other poor sap's."

"That's rich, coming from you." Johnny said back, his rage building.

"It's up to you." With that, Mephisto hung up.

Johnny slowly took the phone from his ear, hung it up, and looked off into space for a moment. But only for a moment, as his mind was made up. He was going to have that drink with Mephisto. Johnny put on his jacket, went out to the garage, started his bike up, and rode in the direction of the bar. Trouble had found him again.