There's a tale they telling in the Darkest Depth of the Pit....
It goes on forever, a screaming abyss of the anguished and the damned. Life is a base mockery in this dark place, inhuman beasts applying tortures beyond human comprehension. From the gurgling reefs of the Fetus-Sea to the demonic whore houses of b*****d's Den, only the Demons find joy here.
Of a Rider, melting steel and Burning Rubber, going Hell for Leather on those vast, black plains out between Acheron and The Styx....
A hot red Cadillac is perched on a hill overlooking the twisting shadowy plains between Acheron and The Styx. Sitting a top it's hood is an overweight man in his mid thirties, a white cowboy hat perched on his round hat. A beer was clutched in his right hand, a smirk on his lips. This was the only sight that dragged him from the brothels other then work. His name is Hoss and he's one of the best trackers the fallen have. "An Ol' Cowpoke went ridin' out, one dark an' Windy day... Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way...When all at once a mighty herd of red-eyed cows He saw--Ploughin' through the cloudy sky, an' up a cloudy draw...Yippee-Yi-Yay...Yippee-Yi-Yoh...!"
There is another with him, one he hates beyond imagination. One he makes suffer, as he himself has suffered--And so will he continue, until the end of the world.....
The roar of his motorcycle is nearly deafening as it charges down the icy plains, carrying it's rider and his cargo towards a destination he know he'll never reach. As a massive clawed tentacle swings at his head he swerves to the right and lays the hammer down. His face is devoid of flesh, a bare skull wreathed in the hottest hellfire. His name is Johnny Blaze and he is Mephisto's Ghost Rider. He sold his soul to the demon to save the life of his best friend Crash, the daredevil suffering from cancer. The small task was completed but Crash went unknowing this into his next stunt. Planning to go out with a bang Crash attempted a suicidal jump, killed in the bang up right in the end. Well, Hell comes to collect it's own and this would be the end of Johnny Blaze if not for Mephisto once more. The archdemon Zarathos was getting too big for his britches, Mephisto killing two birds with one stone by sending Blaze back to Earth bonded with Zarathos, transfigured into the living spirit of Vengeance. A lot happened over the years and Blaze was freed from Zarathos. It was two years ago that Hell came for him again and he's been there since.
And though every night they take him down, the Shining Klan and The Gang of Nine, The Ribbon Kings and the Old Horned Gentry, though they rend and they rip and they rape and they ruin--
A living wall of Flesh follows Johnny Blaze, their one goal to do every foul thing to the man imaginable. Not truly a wall but a gathering of demons all shape and sizes, pressed together tight enough to be one, they chase him like every night. The screaming wretch before them only gains attention every now and then, a claw or a phallic tentacle probing or puncturing him when they choose so. The form bounces along the smooth and yet sharp, cold and yet hot plains, his flesh torn clean off to only regenerate and instant later to be torn off again.
Nothing they can do can still his roars of fury, his howls of righteous rage at the injustice dealt him, by this wicked world of Hell and Earth and Heaven....
As he slides across the ground, his firey wheels leaving a blazing trail to dodge another striking limb he feels no mercy or pity for Malachi. The b*****d angel had given him hope of escaping this nightmare. He had him fight his way across half of Texas and kill an Archdemon, only to have a corrupted priest put a consecrated sniper round through his skull. He only wished he could make the ride more painful.
The other one screams too.....
The night is nearly done and though he's easily kept a head of the pack all these hours, he knows it's all for naught. The gates are in his field of vision and the end is near. He'll get with in ten feet of them and it'll be done as the horde rips him to nothing but his soul to do this all over tomorrow night. But he doesn't mind as much, the b*****d Malachi is getting his fair share. Johnny makes a last blast of his throttle, making like a bat out of Hell for the gates, a roar of pure anger bursting from his none existent lips.
According to the Legends, it's hard to tell who screams the loudest...
The Rider and his bounty are absorbed in a sphere of pure light, it's shine viewable all the way to Hoss who's just dropped his beer and shielded his eyes. Johnny feels a pull at every single one of his atoms and a sudden weightlessness.
His bike materializes a hundred feet above a lush meadow, the blue sky boggling his mind. Both angel and human look upon the same sight, the same thought and cry of joy escaping their lips, "I'm....free!" And then gravity caught up to them. Screaming with pure joy the Rider tugs on his chains, they forming and locking to the bike's bottom. A different scream fills Malachi's lungs, he now chained to the bike's bottom, intended to cushion their fall.
Seconds float by like bubbles of oxygen in mercury until the silent air is filled with a violent explosion. The ground shakes and cracks, Johnny Blaze grinning ear to ear in the deep crater his impact created, not a scratch on him or his bike. The inhuman screams, moans and gurgles of the abused angel only added to his ecstasy. He had beat the system and escaped Hell and right about now he didn't give a damn about the how, who, what and why of the matter.
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Count Omega
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