*When Johnny Blaze woke up, everything around him was blurry and his eyelids felt like something had crusted over them. Blood maybe.
Goblets full of pain spilled through his arms and he tried moving them but they wouldn't budge. They were tied tightly behind his back by rope, pressed up against the back of the chair he was strapped in.
"You're awake," a booming voice said. Blaze straightened as best he could and stared straight ahead at his captor. It was Stephen Lords—Deathwatch—but looking different this time. His once long hair was now cut short above his shoulders and instead of the armor he wore last time he fought Blaze, he wore a black kimono to better match his companions associated with the Hand. In his hand he gripped a long, silver sword that emanated an eerie green but vague glow.
"Is that for me? You shouldn't have," Blaze groaned.
Stephen took a step forward. "You thought I was gone?"
"I figured you were still around. I got a little busy though," Blaze admitted.
Stephen shook his head. "Humans. You're all the same."
"Who said I was human?" Blaze asked.
Stephen raised his sword so that the tip was hovering at Blaze's neck. "I know what's in you. I know what Mephisto has done to you, but you're not invincible, as this very sword proved."
"If you can kill me with it why haven't you done it yet?" Blaze asked.
"Because you're the one who knows how I can get the Medallion out of your machine. No spell I've done has succeeded in getting it out."
"You might want to rethink your technique," Blaze said.
Stephen took another dangerous step forward and this time the tip of the sword was gently pressed up against the small of Blaze's neck. "The one inside you. The one named Zarathos won't cooperate with me, but he'll cooperate with you. Use his power to get that Medallion out of the machine."
Blaze's eyes darted past Stephen and spotted Blaze's motorcycle sitting against the wall. But that wasn't what startled Blaze the most. On their knees, a family of four were under the mercy of a large, bulky man covered in some red substance that was constantly reshaping itself. It stared at Blaze through yellow, pupil-less eyes.
"Ah, you see them. Now you know why you have tell me how to take the Medallion. The Death Ninja here will kill them if you do not."
Blaze smirked. "Death Ninja?"
"Yes."
Blaze rolled his eyes. "Dear god, who comes up with these names?"
Stephen frowned. "What?"
"Come on, Death Ninja? Really? I thought the name 'Ghost Rider' was stupid the first time I heard it, but it's better than 'Death Ninja'."
A member of the Hand standing in the room suddenly snickered.
"Enough!" Stephen snapped. "The medallion, or this family dies."
Blaze didn't want that for the family of course, but something wasn't right. He couldn't feel Zarathos—at all. It was as if he wasn't there inside him at all.
Then it began to dawn on him. Zarathos was really not inside him anymore. This realization pulled his eyes up high.
"I don't have the power to release the Medallion from the motorcycle, not without the Spirit," Blaze said.
"But you do have the Spirit! You have Zarathos himself!"
"I mean it. He's not in me. It's like he just—left," Blaze said.
Stephen's shoulders suddenly rose and his nostrils flared. "What do you mean?"
"I'm saying he's not with me anymore. He ran off. I think he ran when one of your cronies stabbed me with that sword there. It was a sword forged in heaven itself isn't it?" Blaze asked.
Stephen gazed down at the sword he was holding and realization began to dawn on him too. "Yes."
"He's wounded, but he can still find a new host. He's probably going through the city looking for one right now."
For a brief second, fear arced through Stephen's features but was quickly replaced by rage. He made a signal to the red-soaked form behind him, and it immediately unsheathed its own sword and slit the neck of the older man in the family. The rest of the family screamed in horror and grief.
"I'm telling you the truth! Damn it, I'm telling you the truth!" Blaze pleaded.
"I believe you! I can't sense Zarathos inside you, which now makes you worthless to me," Stephen declared.
Blaze thought fast. "Not quite. You can still get the Medallion without the Spirit. You're holding the key to that right now."
Stephen glanced at his sword again. "Explain."
"Take the sword to my motorcycle. Hack it to pieces with it and you'll literally be able to sever the medallion off of it," Blaze said.
Stephen walked over to the motorcycle to test that strategy. He took his sword to it, and as he slashed away at it, it indeed fell to pieces until it was a heap of broken metal. Glowing from the pile of gray and black was the yellow of the Medallion itself. A fiendish grin cut across Stephen's face and he reached down and took up the Medallion.
"At last. The war against Mephisto himself can finally begin," he said.
Blaze knew that wherever Zarathos was, he wasn't going to allow Stephen to hold on to the Medallion. It was far too important to him.
As if on queue with his thoughts, the pile of metal and tires began trembling like an earthquake that was affecting nothing but the motorcycle parts. The Medallion was wrenched out of Stephen's hand by an invisible force, and it joined the rest of the metal as it all flew up in the air and began reassembling itself into a full motorcycle again. Once it was completely back together again, it fell to the floor on its wheels and speeded out the door, narrowly missing Stephen's companion. Stephen whirled around to face Blaze with fear and frustration daunting his eyes.
Blaze shrugged as best he could while bound. "Wasn't me."**
*"You are mine now," the voice said inside Flagg's head.
"Who are you?" Flagg asked.
"Don't act so surprised. I'm the one you asked for. You now have what you want—power to destroy the guilty. You want vengeance. So do I. I think you would like it if we payed that man Martin Thraller a visit."
Martin was the man who was responsible for Jennifer getting nabbed in the first place, which eventually led to her own grim death.
He has to pay.
"Yes. He will."
A violent fire broke out over Flagg's hands and extended up his arms. His face blackened as if burnt and his eyes glowed a devilish yellow. His skin peeled away to reveal a shiny, white skull underneath bathed in flames.
Oh yeah. That feels good.
Ghost Rider-turned Flagg stared down at his new bony hands and bent his fingers. The knuckles popped but instead of wincing, Flagg chuckled at the sound. That could be the sound of Martin's head if he goes to him.
"Our ride's here," Zarathos said.
Smashing through Blaze's closed garage door was Hell Cycle in flames.
"Now go, while you have the chance."
Don't mind if I do.
Flagg left behind the Darkhold on the floor and got on the motorcycle, soaking in the sound of its engine and feeling raw power coursing through him. It wasn't supposed to feel natural—but to him it did.
The Ghost Rider laughed and laughed as Hell Cycle swerved around and darted back outside. The Rider held on to his chain which whistled behind him.**
*Both Stephen and Blaze were equally startled by the sounds of a motorcycle engine and wild laughter outside. Stephen stomped over to the window and looked out. Blaze noticed that what he saw shook him to his core.
"It's true. Zarathos found a new host," he said.
Blaze fidgeted. Who did Zarathos take? The thought that maybe just maybe it was Flagg sucked all the heat out of his body.
Stephen turned to Death Ninja. "Kill the prisoner and wait for further orders."
Death Ninja nodded and first slit the throats of the rest of the family. Blaze's stomach was on fire. He felt like he was about to ready to throw up. When Stephen ran out of the room, Death Ninja started to walk towards Blaze with his bloody sword in hand.
For the first time in a very long time, Blaze didn't know what to do to get out of his situation. With the powers of Ghost Rider, getting himself out of deadly scenarios was—easier.
The Death Ninja raised his sword over his head with both hands, intending on slashing it down squarely on Blaze's head. Blaze squeezed his eyes shut.
Roxanne.
Just as the sword came down halfway, Death Ninja was stopped short by an oddly-timed sound.
Clapping.
Death Ninja turned to stare at the only other member of the Hand in the room—and it was clapping.
"Yeah! Whoo! This is usually one of those scenarios where the villain waits too long to finally make the finishing move, so it gives the hero the chance he needs to break away," the Hand member said.
Death Ninja's eyes narrowed and he raised his sword again.
"And even better—this time the hero doesn't really have a way to get out. Tsk tsk."
Even Blaze was confused by this turn of events. Death Ninja turned back to look at him.
"I'm just as confused as you are," Blaze admitted.
"It's a great cinematic moment. Not cliche at all. But I'm afraid I'm gonna have to bring in another cliche."
A deep growl emanated from Death Ninja's throat.
"This is the part where someone else saves the hero at the very last, convenient second," the masked Hand member said.
From the holster hidden underneath his shirt, the ninja removed a pistol from it and fired a bullet straight through the center of Death Ninja's head. Death's head snapped back and his body began to fall. It vanished before it could hit the floor and reappeared behind the ninja.
"Oh, great," the ninja whined. He reached for two steel katanas on his back and pulled them out of their sheaths as he whirled around to parry Death's sword.
"You can't just take a cool character and give him whatever powers you want! That's not how it works!" The ninja said.
Two deadly beams exploded from Death's eyes, which the ninja deflected by crossing his katanas in front of him. Once it finally stopped, the ninja seized the chance to launch at Death and stab him repeatedly in the chest with his katanas. There was no blood as he slashed away, and the wounds kept quickly shutting themselves up again.
"Come—the hell—on!" The ninja yelled. Nothing he was doing with his katanas was affecting Death. In fact, it was only making him angrier. The ninja flipped backwards to land beside Blaze in his chair and sliced his katana upward, cutting the ropes that kept Blaze bound.
"Help me out here, man. Wadey can't die, but he likes to get his crap done," he said.
"I don't have the Ghost Rider anymore," Blaze replied as he got up.
"That's fine. Just do martial arts. That's what superheroes do when they're on a low budget."
"Who are you?" Blaze asked.
"Wade Wilson. Deadpool. And I'm not supposed to be here," Deadpool said.
Death Ninja came at both Blaze and Deadpool with his sword over his head again. He swung his sword down to slice down through Blaze again. Blaze dove out of the way and rolled back onto his feet.
"What do we do?" He asked.
Deadpool tossed him a glock. Blaze caught it and immediately started firing round after round into Death.
"Be careful with that one, I was saving it for later!" Deadpool said.
"For what?" Blaze asked.
Deadpool wasn't able to respond (surprisingly) as Death fired a hail of electricity from the palm of his boiling hand towards Blaze. Blaze rolled out of the way and watched the part of the wall where he had just been at explode into a pile of debris and rubble.
Wade peaked out of his cover behind the chair with a machine gun and unloaded an entire clip into Death's throat.
"Protect me, chair!" He hollered.
After four clips of nonstop fire, Deadpool ran out of ammo. "Aw, crap! I'm out of budget! Do something!"
Then as if by magic, several more cartridges appeared in the air and fell at Wade's feet. "Oh—oh you amazing bastard. The budget is so much higher around here."
Death shifted his electricity power towards Wade and Wade screamed as he was caught in the line of fire.
"Too high! Too high!" Wade shrieked.
Blaze got up onto his feet and looked at his own hands as he felt something sparking inside of him. Just because Zarathos was gone didn't mean he was 'normal' again. There was still some kind of power in him, which still gave him the ability to fight. From his hand he was able to produce a fiery chain.
He grinned. Zarathos may had left him, but he still wanted to leave behind a little bit of himself to taunt Blaze.
"Holy hell! That's the one thing Green Lantern has that I wish I had!" Wade yelled.
When Death spotted the chain in Blaze's hand, he paused as if he was shocked by it. Maybe he was. It didn't matter though. He twirled the chain in his hand and unleashed it around Death's waist. Death struggled and screamed from an unseen mouth. The sound was almost deafening. Blaze strode over to Death as he fell on his knees. With one last yank, Death's body began to dissolve. Before his face did, he said one thing that caught Blaze off guard.
"Thank you."
This one wanted to die.
Was the one inside the body of this beast just a regular human like him trapped within something else?
"Wow, that was some heavy, heavy junk right there," Wade said stepping forward.
"What were you doing here in the first place?" Blaze asked.
"I'm looking for someone. Some son of a bitch who calls himself the Attendant. He has my girl. Only problem is, I think I took myself to the wrong universe. It's too kid-friendly here," Wade said.
Blaze handed him his glock back. "Then I guess I know what you were saving this gun for."
"Oh no, it wasn't going to be for that," Wade replied.
Blaze frowned.
"Now that I've rescued you like a true superhero, I can move on," Wade said.
"Wait. There's one more thing I need to see," Blaze said. Wade stopped short and Blaze reached over and took off Wade's mask—revealing an ugly, scarred, and deformed face.
"Sorry man, no thank you. I'm interested in girls right now."
"Your face looks like it went through a meat grinder," Blaze said.
"Your face looks like a character from The Walking Dead," Wade replied.
Blaze frowned again. "I don't understand. I don't—sense—that you're guilty of anything."
"What? Hell, man, guilt is beneath me. I am nothing but a shining example of all that is sexy and beautiful."
"Maybe a little heavy on the pride factor but—the way I see it, every guilty thing has been done to you," Blaze said.
"That's right, candlestick. I'm the victim. Always have been."
Though Wade was being snarky as he said it, Blaze knew—somehow knew—that he was telling the truth.
"Hey, listen. I know you must be fantasizing about me in some wonderful ways here but I gotta go before Kevin Feige finds out I'm here."**
*For days it was just darkness. Martin Thraller's eyes were completely gone, replacing his vision with a galaxy that had no stars. Every other part of his body ached and he yearned for a drink of water.
In the silence, someone screamed.
Martin tried opening his eyes but then remembered that he didn't have them anymore. Something crashed and shattered. A door flew open and snapped off its hinges.
Martin's entire body shook and he clutched the covers that were over him.
"Martin Thraller."
Martin screamed at the sound of the voice. It was so terrifying—so inhuman.
"You're going to pay for your sins."
"Jennifer. Jennifer!" Martin screamed.