What was a soul ?
The almighty hands out souls to those whom he chooses , his creations imbued with that pure light that retains all that is innocent and good …yet he was no creation of god. In-fact some could consider him the result of someone playing at god.
Sure , he had been 'bad' . But his creator had insisted their was a reason for it , plus he was programmed that way . Then again you could never really have an excuse for yourself…or your actions….
Empty eye sockets store out at the world , that itchy feeling in the back of his skull indicating that an innocent was in danger.
Sometimes vengeance was necessary , although all of the violence in his last life had dampened his feelings on using brute force to get what he needed. Violence and 'evil' giving him this horrible existence
……..though the motorcycle did rock.
A roar like the devils scream echoed throughout the street's as the motorcycles engine came into life , hopping on the flaming bike the rider and his 'steed' tore down the street's .
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The broken women lay their , her body violated , her will shattered . Feebly crying she hid her face from the perpetrator. The heavy set man looming over her , his alcohol stained breath filling the usually cool night air.
"Should I kill you now or later" ? Slurred the man who lazily pulled a polished bowie knife from his pocket , he seemed to mull over the decision the knife making small figure eights in the air as he thought.
"P-please…dd-d-don't" the women squealed
Growling the man clamped his hand around the women long brown tresses before forcibly snapping her neck upwards, "Quiet" he snarled backhanding the women for her troubles . The sexual predator let out a grin at the way the tears appeared in the corner of his prey's eyes , it was almost beautiful.
He would have felt more elated over his small victory, had a pillar of pure soul fire not slammed into him. While not physically affecting the man his soul was blazing , the flames licking and eating away at the Ruach and working it's way higher..
His features seemed to freeze as this happened , then the convulsions kicked in. His body shaking lightly. Before finally he fell. Soulless, empty.
The women's eyes flickered from the fallen rapist to her saviour , his exposed skull alight with orange flame.
"W-who are you" was all she could manage ; the frightening sequence of events were already starting to hammer at her fragile psyche .
"Me" ? The flame hooded, leather covered, skeletal monstrosity seemed to pause at the question. The eternal grin of a human skull belied the intense concentration of it's owner, he needed a name and fast…although his benefactor called him 'The Rider' it just wouldn't do here. Plus it sounded cheesy as hell.
"Are you a ghost" ?
He was knocked out of his reverie by her question, then smiling (or at least trying to smile, it is after all difficult to smile without lips.. or skin as a matter of fact) he finally replied.
"Yeah…call me Ghost Rider" .
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I own neither Kim Possible (which belongs to Disney ) Or any Marvel Comic's characters (all of which belong to the Marvel corporation with various copyrights going to Stan 'The Man' Lee)
Yes , yes very short and kind of a sucky ending. But I try :D .
The Thor chapter shall be up next …and ten points for anyone who can guess whom 'ghost rider' is.