The dropping of human guises is a development shared by the foul mouthed blond, who in his anger finally gives way to the spirit bound within him, a curse of violent fury to be bestowed upon the sinful.
Flesh and muscle dissolve, leaving behind the off-white scaffolding of bone as Blaze appears to gain a few inches in height. Zarathos’ unrivaled might becomes the factor that empowers such a vessel of death and unavoidability, the objectives of the host replaced by what vengeance embodied wishes to attempt next.
“The choice isn’t yours to
M̵͢͢A͏Ķ̢͢E,” intones an ethereal voice, showing that a new player has entered the fray. Before the Rider’s gaze, Ky’s petulant habits prove to be an ineffective offense. No amount of yelled objections could change a mind so bent on avenging the innocent that matters relating to circumstance are put aside.
“This place is not your home. You will be returned to your fetid place of origin before the next break of day.” Placing himself on a time schedule, the Rider sets to work by first securing the transforming half-breed more than already was, chains turning red-hot and searing as a raised boot is used to push the young male back onto the ground, like prey presenting its belly to the hunter.
“Ky’lar Richardson, your penance is
P͜͠A͏̀S̨̛͡T ̢D̡U͞͏Ȩ͢.”
The half-breed absolutely thought he had more time to explain himself. To attempt to worm his way out of this mess, but doing so now seemed close to impossible.
Fighting could get him far – maybe even manage to get him out of the chains, but he doubted it would be worth it. His limited knowledge of the other didn’t benefit him – all it did was serve to make him a bit more nervous. More so as he knew this would most likely end badly.
At least with Johnny – the human part – he may have had a chance to explain himself. With the Rider, it looked like any, and all attempted explanations would inevitably fail.
However, that wouldn’t stop him from trying; not even as the chains that bound him became tighter and then started to burn his flesh. If he had a real plan, maybe he’d been able to get out of this, but no such luck.
All he could possibly do was let out a deep hiss as he was kicked back to the ground like a common murderer or even criminal. He wasn’t one though – there wasn’t anything common about him.
The lives he took were a mere handful in the grand scheme of things ( or so he thought ) and there was doubt in his mind they even mattered. It wasn’t like he could simply stop himself from losing control. Maybe at one time he had a chance to, but he blew that away just like any offer to help gain some semblance of control.
“You’re wrong,” he managed to spit out through pained hisses. “I was born here.” Ky was about to try to explain more, but instead he yanked at the chains. In his mind, it was an an attempt to get free…even if it wouldn’t get him far.
“I’m not… going back. You don’t know what they’ll do me.” It was uncertain what exact ‘punishment’ his family would enact for being sent back so… forcefully. Even more so being sent back by the Rider, but there was one thing that was clear… He’d hear about it until the end of days.
That cutting remark sees flames engulf Blaze’s face, melting flesh with a kind of agony he could never get used to no matter how often he repeated the process. What he’d give to burn the damn contract that brought him within the sphere of the red fiend’s influence. It was an annoying mistake in a past littered with faults– but this day its mention was purely derogatory, and the addled blond is soon enough able to pull himself together again, keeping the Rider at bay.
“Trust me, if this…thing that’s inside me was a myth, I’d be a lot better off.” Perhaps his family would still be alive, but that was wishful thinking. As things currently stood, the spirit that shared living space with his very person was crying out for retribution, slashing at the walls that Johhny had erected with bony fingers and searing features. The Rider wanted nothing better than to see this man be held to account. And Blaze was finding it difficult to deny him such a wish.
To keep himself focused, he tugs abruptly on the chain, causing Ky’lar to fall face forward into the dirt, an act of humiliation designed to calm his Rider -possessed mind. “No, because I’m not a fuckin’ walking encyclopaedia of knowledge on this shit, am I?!” Johnny the fiery skeleton may possess such knowledge, but as your typical human, what bits of information he retained had its limits.
Starting over, Johnny takes a piece of the chain and wraps it around his arm, pulling himself closer to Ky’lar as he did so. It was clear that he was beginning to enjoy this arrangement a bit too much, though that could partially be explained by his shortening proximity to the half-bred, the showing of a pleasant simper a consequence of dear old Zarathos making strides in breaching the barrier that prevented his return.
“Not for much longer, you don’t!”Letting spittle fly from his mouth, Blaze’s features once more begin the gruesome act of changing, flesh dripping free to reveal the fire shrouded structure of bleached-white bone beneath. “And you can tell ‘em yourself! Because I’m gonna send you to hell!”
The act of humiliation just caused him to become far more agitated than he was before; his human form starting to twist and fade way as it revealed just what he truly was.
If he had more restraint, he might not have let his human form slip away like this, but he lacked that ability. No, it wasn’t that simple; in truth, Ky didn’t think he needed to control himself. Not when things got this personal.
He spit the dirt out of his mouth with a dark growl; not even bothering to notice that he was indeed reverting to his demon form. His family, Johnny, the Rider – it all formed in his mind as one big enemy that needed to be taken out.
However, Ky knew he couldn’t handle any of them – this much proved it as his pushed himself up slightly. Not entirely off the ground, but just so he could fully see Johnny, and try to come up with some sort of plan.
Not that a plan would do any good at this rate; he was like a chained animal. A dog that was on a leash, but given enough slack to bite. All he had to do was wait until that time to strike out – to prove that he was more than just a caged beast.
“I’m not going back!” he managed to shout out. “I like it here!”
For a brief moment it felt good to have the bastard’s undivided attention, all soul-destroying threats aside. It was an occasion he would’ve liked to preserve in the form of a Polaroid, or even captured on video, but alas did not have such devices on his person– hell, he didn’t even carry a phone half the time.
Given that he was at war with himself to prevent the Rider from appearing and extracting his payment of vengeance from this easy target, Blaze’s expression falls flat for a moment, eyes closing shut to prevent the manifestation of that fiery gaze. During this time, his grip on the chain slackens, but doesn’t falter, and he prays with every scrap of faith he’s been allowed to retain all these years that the kid doesn’t use this chance to skedaddle.
For if he ran, John was certain that he would not be able to contain Zarathos’ wrath.
“Looks like you’ve got some smarts left in ya. That’s promising.” Satisfied with Ky’lar compliance, Blaze thought to respect it by immediately rattling off his queries. “First, I wanna know who exactly you are. Second, why the fuck you’re here on earth. And thirdly – which is the most important question of all – do you know who I am?” Well aware of what the man’s pedigree was like, he felt tempted to leave him in the dark, not knowing the reasons for why he’d shown him such violence.
How could he tell a son that he hated his father for how he perverted the memory of his wife when the moment, long in its passing, was still a fresh wound to the jaded biker? The simple answer was he never could.
“I’m the damn Ghost Rider, kid! And you’re exactly who I need to get even with your bastard father!”
“You mean Mephisto’s former plaything,” he said, running a hand through his hair; adapting to the situation as best as he could by responding with (his own version) of facts. “The Rider’s are a myth – something told to scare low-level shit-stains at night.” Or maybe, that was just him; even before Ky was exactly what he was now… he knew about them. Though, the amount that was actually known was just a small chunk of sand in a vast expanse.
Still, there was the question of who he was; interesting, he was taken this far, and the other didn’t know? Well, Ky always did like a little flair, but he doubted it would have decent consequences in this little bind he managed to find himself in.
“An’ shouldn’t you already know the answers to your bloody questions?” A little rage sparked in his tone, but old habits did die hard – especially when the Son of Blackheart wasn’t in control of the situation. “Chaining me up, taking me here, and for what?” Ky had a few idea’s actually, but he wouldn’t voice them. Not yet at least – whatever this… Rider wanted? Ky had a feeling he wouldn’t like it. Not one bit. “Just so you can say you ‘kidnapped’ one kid and for what?” Granted, he was keeping himself quite well in control; even if he was desperately holding back his true form from slipping from his grasp.
“News flash for you – I live here!” Some of the time, but he wouldn’t mention that. Not even as his fingers started to dig into his flesh. “And not you, not my Grandfather, or even my Father will change that.” However, if they wished to do so, they could easily. Ky just thought one of them would drag him back forcefully. Not send a lackey. “ So, tell the dear family the Son of Blackheart is done with their shit.”
A trail of fire lights up a barren stretch of land, the intended destination after spending several long hours burning hellfire infused rubber on the open road. Gloved hand clutching the handlebar, he keeps the bike on a steady path, leaning into the breeze whilst letting his opposite arm extended, fingers wrapped tightly on a coil of chain that drags his reason for being here behind him.
This continued for a few more miles across the shrub strewn wasteland, until the leather-clad rider banks sharply, turning the bike with a twist of the brake, back wheel dredging up earth and stones as all gained momentum was lost. Having stopped, he swings the hand holding the chain overhead, chucking it and the man restrained by it to the dirt, little care given for the harshness of the toss, still holding the length of chain like a dog leash.
Getting off the bike, alightened features are quenched by the reemergence of flesh, the haunting visage of the spirit swapped for the human cursed to house his essence. He admits it is a foolish move, to force such a reversion, with a great deal of willpower alone needed to keep the vengeance essence of Zarathos from putting in another appearance so shown, but stubbornness demanded he treat this confrontation devoid of demonic features.
After all, it was seldom that he was afforded an opportunity to hold leverage over his most hated enemy, the very devil that answered his desperate prayer and cursed him with a face of fire. He wasn’t going to botch this chance.
“Up and at ‘em, kid! I got plenty of questions that need answerin’, and not a lotta time to spare, so unless havin’ your soul bein’ incinerated sounds appealing to ya, I advise ya to sit up, shut up and listen to every damned thing that I gotta say!” Were it all but bluster, Blaze would’ve added a touch more flare to his act. He was a showman at heart, after all, but in this case his words rang true; he could feel the Rider stirring beneath the surface, trying its best to get free and deal with the sinful descendant of his greatest enemy. Should the blond come across as crabby, he wasn’t about to start offering any apologies.
“Feel free to nod if you got all that memorised.”
Every fiber of his being wanted to rip Blaze apart. He already could feel the unending itch to shift into his true form. Something, he’d been trying to avoid for weeks, but surely he could let up his resistance in this case. Surely, it wouldn’t do too much harm.
However, he wasn’t going to go down that path – not yet at least. He’d wait to see what the biker was going to say. Only then, he’d formulate a real plan to get out of this bind.
From what he knew, this was Rider of some sort; he’d heard about them, but he didn’t know very much more than ultimately knowing it was a bad sign. Well, a very bad sign at the moment since this took his already shitty day, and made it ten times worse.
He rubbed at his lips with the back of his hand a few moments after he hit the ground. Not even caring that he was on his own in this. Yet, he didn’t voice his ‘usual’ bout about how his father would ‘take care’ of him – no, even Ky knew this wasn’t something he could just boast his way out of.
So, he spit some blood out of his mouth, and gave a nod. It wasn’t like he could do anything else for the time being and he wasn’t going to risk ‘mouthing off’ to someone that had already taken him this far. Clearly even the Son of Blackheart had some (very slight) respect for power andability.
“Yeah, likethat’ll be the day.” A chuckle flees from his mouth that’s tinged with a slight amount of nervousness. It wouldn’t hurt, he deems, to show caution around this descendant of Mephisto. Given his dismal track record with the rest of his family so far.
“Want some words of advice? Best get gone, before I show you out personally.”
“That day may be sooner than you think,” he said, arms folding across his chest. “Much sooner actually.” Of course, the validity of that claim could be debated… more or less.
“So, think about it this way; you can keep your advice and in turn… you stay out of my way.”
Hellfirebound 