"No"

"I said give me the damn money, bitch! You really don't want to test my patience!" The short, armed yordle bellowed in anger, its red furry face barely concealed behind a black piece of cloth and small greedy eyes dangerously glinting in the darkness, much like the sharp barbed piece of steel so tightly clenched between its muddy, excitedly twitching fingers.

"Tsk ok, ok, I got it. Just calm down kid, we really wouldn't want you to accidentally injure yourself with that sharp pointy toothpick of yours now would we?" Katarina growls in response, grudgingly shoving her elegant purse towards this pathetic excuse for a man currently standing before her.

The yordle growls at her snappy remark, but otherwise ignores her and the Noxian assassin can only scowl in disgust when her calm emerald orbs suddenly spot the numerous shiny pieces of her gold so carelessly spilling all over the short red furry thief's dirty, mud-smeared, clumsy fingers. The nauseating rat of a being practically dancing in joy after eyeing its prize.

"Kisisisisisi" The short male yordle's ridiculously disturbing laughter and joyous sounds of self-applause finally manage to escape the small petty thief's tiny throat and abruptly leak into the otherwise peaceful, cold winter night. The very sickening notion of its unpleasant hue somehow making even Katarina, a coldblooded murderer starting to feel uncomfortable.

And even though the usual Katarina would have undoubtedly already killed the small furry bastard and hidden its corpse the redhead assassin can only just grit her teeth and wait for this embarrassing ordeal to be over with right now. She does however keep mentally chastising herself for so thoughtlessly leaving the relative safety of her home without the reassuring warmth of cold steel nesting inside her palms and the gentle glimmer of her beloved razor-sharp daggers illuminating the dark black veil of this damn smelly alleyway.

And yet even though what felt like Katarina's whole inner being was currently screaming at her to violently beat, throttle or downright mutilate the damn furry brat and then eat its liver the fiery redhead could only sigh and wait in silence, angrily frowning at the big red rat all the while inwardly cursing her dear sister's ingenious plans and frightening Ionian concepts.

Just how was she supposed to know that Cassy would one day wake up and just suddenly decide to get rid of every single sharp pointy tool and potentially lethal weapon in their entire household?

She couldn't have known of course. No one could have seen that coming and much less so Katarina, resident hothead and narrow-minded assassin. The arrogant redhead had never even dreamed of such a blatant display of madness and stupidity before that terrible incident and so Talon and her had abruptly got up one day only to find themselves in the process of mourning the loss of their entire lifelong collections of knives, daggers, shurikens, swords and deadly projectiles of all kinds and sizes.

And although Talon and Kat had silently vowed to themselves to swiftly reclaim their orphaned tools of death, the fiery redhead assassin couldn't help but still burst into tears whenever a teddy bear or Staby were ever mentioned. Staby, her beloved cute armored, blade-wielding teddy bear! Just what kind of cruel monster was actually evil enough to so heartlessly kick Staby out of his former home and secretly dump him in the garbage?!

And so all of that terrible heartache and shed tears, all of that aching pain and soul-wrenching agony that flooded her very being and drowned her heart. All of those poor orphaned knives left to gather rust, cursed to remain unused and unbloodied... Everybody (not really) seemed to be suffering as a result of Cassiopeia's disturbing interest in the newest brainless Ionian trends and the young heiress' unfortunate discovery of Shen Shui! And why in Teemo's home were her chambers supposed to be painted blue of all things? what the hell was wrong with red, scarlet, ruby and crimson? This wasn't Demacia for fuck's sake!

Tsk, and Kat had always thought that Talon was supposed to be the dumbest kid in the family. Oh how far the once proud house of Du Couteau had fallen…

Katarina is currently grinding her teeth and the yordle is still all smiles and laughs, happily giggling behind its black elastic mask all the while greedily staring at the round pieces of gold as if these mere mundane golden discs of precious metal are magical droplets of blessed dew, capable of granting him immortality.

Katarina just loudly snorts at the thought. She can't really refrain from showing her justified disdain for this pitiful furry man, and rightfully so after witnessing such a blatant display of glee and greed over what she herself considered mere pocket-money. She then glances towards the suddenly silent and obviously vexed yordle mugger and finally notices how the short man's red furry visage has practically melted into an angry mask of silent dark fury.

The yordle's rising blade abruptly glints under the unnatural yellowish faded street light and Katarina instantly takes a step back, palms hurriedly raising up in what most people would likely perceive as a nonthreatening, soothing gesture.

But the small dirty red-furred yordle just smiles at the redhead's placating attempts and only resumes closing the distance, taking small measured steps towards the now hesitant and currently weaponless infamous Noxian assassin.

"You wanna say something lass? You think that this is funny?!"

The obviously reluctant assassin just shakes her head in response, murmurs a gritted reply and then instantly takes another step back as the crooked grey blade on the small man's hand leisurely inches closer.

Vrrrrm

The thunderous sound abruptly permeating the cold night's air is somehow equally deafening, extremely low and totally unexpected, suddenly making both victim and assailant nervously jump in response and then stiffen in barely concealed fright.

…

Silence, the dark smelly alleyways are empty, the streets are abandoned and the yellowish hue of the nearest street light is currently buzzing and flickering ominously like a dying man's fading heartbeat. The two of them just wait in silence for a couple of seconds, a few precious, tension-filled moments where they are trying to pretend that everything is fine, there is nothing lurking in the dark veil of black cloth wrapped around their street lamp and no monsters crawling in the swirling shadows . A couple of minutes seem to tick by before both of them manage to gather their wits and turn around in order to gaze towards the black peerless night and the still echoing, dying mechanical roar.

Two startled pairs of eyes frantically darting between overflowing rubbish bins and inky black shadows while searching for the source of the sound before another hellish growl almost tears their hearts asunder.

Vrrrrm

Both yordle and human stiffen again, narrowed eyes frantically darting between the still empty streets and abandoned alleyways desperately trying to identify this eerie roar of monstrous ignition.

VRRRrrrm

Another mechanical roar, this one somewhat louder and definitely more ominous than the previous ones abruptly pierces the veil of darkness causing sparkling tiny embers to practically dance in the guts of the cold empty street right beside their alley. Faint yellow hues briefly flaring into existence, silently dancing into the night's black canvas before instantly disappearing, carefully hidden under a new fresh coating of inky black paint.

The clanking echo of reanimated hextech machinery and booming exhausts already whispering a paean of anger, pain, death, freshly-spilled betrayer's blood and fear.

"Who's there?!" The yordle shouts towards the black inky tar, scared and unnerved out of its mind. Its small armed hand frantically lashing out against the thick black shadows as if trying to scrape the old dark paint off the night's cool stale air, its previous victim completely forgotten for the time being and so Katarina stealthily shunpos away from the ominous roars of the mechanical beast and the red-furred thief and silently fades into the night.

V-vv-clank-Vvvrm-clank

The clanking this time is soft and almost seductive, leading the baffled and unfortunately curious thief further into the dark cold night's shade-filled corners, his trembling bladed arm still hesitantly reaching… searching…. scratching inside the coat of ebony dark tar and thick fog of un-light as the previously protective glow of the old hextechl street-lamp suddenly flickers once, twice and then goes out.

VRRRM…

"Gah!"

VRRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

An explosion of light, hellfire and cinders suddenly blinds the short furry mugger, his small beady bloodshot eyes desperately blinking in quick rapid succession even as his crooked iron talon frantically slashes at the air right in front of the flickering yellows. Foul curses and death threats tirelessly spilling out of the short panicked man's lips before his small beady eyes finally clear enough for him to focus on the frightening spectacle before him.

A burning yordle, its whole body shrouded in flames, face and all bathed in yellowish flickering hell-light, its ridiculously long white moustache already covered in smoldering yellow tongues of semi-liquid light and heat and yet somehow still there, although the rest of its old crinkled face has long since melted. Painfully peeled away due to the radiant smoldering tongues of hellfire consuming the devilish ghost rider's whole blazing figure.

A smiling skull and a pair of old cracked and yet still recognizable antique smoking aviator goggles the only barely distinguishable feature on this eerie burning man's pale sizzling visage other than the deathly confident smirk adorning the currently fleshless man's, ivory bony face.

The thief blinks and then cries out in fear after witnessing all of that, wide scared eyes slowly descending, taking in the sight of the ghost rider's blazing vehicle. The smoldering airplane, the infernal hellfire siphoning through the still roaring machine of death and vengeance. The half-melted and almost liquefied bombs and ammunition carefully attached on the vehicle's smoking blackened wings… The red-hot and yet somehow still ominously spinning gatling gun leaking dark smoke, embers and red liquidified, obviously boiling metal.

The trembling yordle swallows as it inspects all of those grim and yet utterly fascinating details and then whimpers, still frozen in shock as small beady orbs slowly rise, taking in the sight of the silent ghostly rider.

Hellfire and cinders, a burning man perched inside a hellish airplane, ivory flame-encased fingers tightly wrapped around a long red-hot iron chain-whip rapidly slicing through the air as the currently sizzling weapon suddenly arches and plunges forward heading straight for the short quivering yordle thief's red furry face. And even though the vile greedy yordle can almost already feel the searing heat of the chain-whip rapidly spreading through its red dirty fur and can already imagine those hellish yellow flames engulfing it. Even though the yordle-man can already guess that resistance is futile and that he is probably going to be dead before a single word manages to leave his lying mouth, this crooked hardened criminal certainly knows how to fool the righteous men and gain the favor of the judges.

I want to see my lawyer! The treacherous yordle tries to yell but catches a chain on the lips the moment its lying mouth opens.

The idea behind the story: I happened to watch some Agents of shield trailers with Ghost Rider and that reminded me of how much I liked Ghost Rider's theme. I wanted to turn a League champion into Ghost Rider, Hecarim, Brand and Thresh are cool but I wanted a more humanoid character to show the transformation and play with the atmosphere. Vi would make an awesome Rider for a secret demon-vigilante story, the theme suits her and I can actually picture her as Ghost, dressed in leather and fighting crime before meeting Caitlyn, but I wasn't really looking for a deep long story with evolving characters. Nunu was another possible candidate for the story since Ghost Rider's vehicle gets set on fire, I can imagine Nunu turning all serious and jumping on top of the yeti before riding into the night. And then I stumbled into Corki and realized that there was something really intriguing about a cursedCorki driving a burning airplane and wielding a chain while shooting hellfire out of his gatling gun. And so I wrote this story.

PS. There might me some random text mixed almong the sentences because of an error, I will check later.