EDITOR’S NOTE: This arc takes place before Ghost Rider #1

TWO-LANE HIGHWAY

Part IX: Let That Devil Out

By Dino Pollard

Gotta find the sin within
And let the game begin
If you want to jump and shout
You gotta let that devil out
-Rollins Band

In all her years of journalism, Kerry Weis could honestly say she had never seen anything like the sight before her. A young girl, couldn’t have been more than five or six years old, with reddish-blonde hair, stood before the reporter in a nightgown clutching a doll in her tiny hands. The doll itself was mutilated–an arm was missing and half its plastic face was melted. With the girl’s deep blue eyes, eyes which seemed mesmerizing, she reminded Kerry of the children from The Village of the Damned. To enhance that image, a row of children stood behind Kerry, blocking the doorway, all of them with glowing blue eyes.

“You have a job to do,” said the girl. “If you don’t want to do it, then we can have a sleepover together. And I’ll give you a makeover and make you pretty, just like Doctor Lady.”

Kerry’s eyes had already taken in the horror of the ‘Doctor Lady.’ She was around Kerry’s age, fairly young and Kerry could tell that the doctor was once an attractive woman. That was before this strange child somehow melted the flesh from the doctor’s face and pulled it like a piece of clay, fusing it to the doctor’s shoulder.

“Shall we play?” asked the girl. “It’s time to have some fun.”

Kerry wasn’t sure what she should do. She was tempted to push past these drone-like children. After all, how tough could they be? But then she thought about the doctor who sat in the chair, moaning in pain. She also thought of Frank, her cameraman, who had burnt his hand when he tried to grab the little girl. Kerry couldn’t, in good conscience, leave the two of them to the mercy of this… this thing.

The girl slowly approached her, her blue eyes flashing. A scowl marred her young, innocent features. For all intents and purposes, the girl seemed perfectly normal. She looked completely innocent. But her eyes… that was a different story. There was something about her eyes that Kerry Weis found absolutely frightening.

“Do you want to play with me?” she asked.

Kerry sighed. She looked at Frank and then at the doctor. Then she looked back at the young girl. “Okay. What game would you like to play?”

The girl giggled in a high-pitched voice and clapped her hands together. Her eyes lit up and she gave a little hop, almost as if she were excited. It seemed so innocent, but there was something so absolutely perverse about it.

“I have the perfect game for us to play!” she said, a huge grin appearing over her face.

Kerry backed away when she saw that grin. It was even more frightening than the scowl. “Wh-what game?”

“Let’s play school!” said the girl with a giggle. “It will be so much fun! I can play the teacher and you can be the student!”

“Okay, we can play school,” said Kerry. “What are you going to teach, honey?”

The girl frowned and hovered in the air. Kerry watched in shock as the girl approached her in the air, her eyes completely level with the reporter’s. The young girl backhanded Kerry across the face. The cheek the girl had struck felt like it had just been hit with a hot frying pan. Kerry reached her hand up to rub her burned cheek, but found it was too painful to touch.

“YOU’RE NOT PLAYING RIGHT! STUDENT DOESN’T CALL TEACHER ‘HONEY’!”

“I’m sorry!” said Kerry. “What should I call you? I don’t know your name?”

The girl seemed to relax. She lowered herself and her feet lightly touched the floor. “My name is Emma, but you can call me Mrs. Blackheart.”

“Okay Mrs. Blackheart, my name is Kerry. What are you going to teach me today?”

Emma smiled. “Today, class, I will teach you about–AHH!”

The child screamed in pain. Kerry’s eyes saw a red stain on the shoulder of the girl’s nightgown.

“Sorry kiddo, no lessons for you today.”

Kerry looked to the source of the new voice. Climbing through the window of the orphanage was a man with an unshaven face and a leather jacket. He had a cigarette perched between his lips and held a pistol in each hand, but he seemed to wobble a bit as he climbed inside. Emma turned her gaze to him as well.

“NO BOYS ALLOWED!” she screamed. With a gesture of her hand, the gunman was thrown against the wall with a loud THUD. He fell face down with a grunt and his guns clanked as they struck the hardwood floor. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet.

“Y’know… I’m gettin’ mighty sick of this demon bullshit,” he said.

Drake stood amidst ash and rubble and on the ground in front of the charred remains of a wooden fence was a sign that read ‘WARNING: BLASTING ZONE 1000 FEET’. The Native American thought of the irony as his gaze drifted to the large crater where a building once stood. The Ghost Rider just departed on a motorcycle crafted from hellfire and an image burned in Drake’s mind of the Spirit of Vengeance racing towards an orphanage. He had another image of his partner, Jack Murdock, heading towards the same institution. This was followed by an image of the Ghost Rider cradling the body of Emma Blaze in his leather-clad arms.

“What have you done?” asked Drake, the question directed at the departing demon.

“The real question is… ‘what have you done?’ ”

Drake felt a chill run down his spine. The voice itself was the sound of burning coals dropped into water. He slowly turned and saw a sight which he was, much to his chagrin, somewhat familiar with. It was a woman, with razor-sharp rib bones protruding from her chest, breasts and stomach lacerated with arms fused at an unnatural angle. Blackheart’s ‘masterpiece’ of human misery.

“Angel,” was the only word that escaped Drake’s lips. It was the creature’s name, or at least it used to be when she was human.

The deformed woman let loose a shriek from her lungs as she leapt towards him. The flesh of her fingers had been melted away and the bones had been sharpened to razor-sharp precision. Drake narrowly dodged those fearsome claws and rolled on the ground. He placed his hands together and lowered his face, his eyes closed. He whispered something in his native language and beads of bright blue energy surrounded his body.

Drake remembered what happened the last time he and Murdock attacked Angel. Each blow they inflicted on the demon was reflected on Blaze’s daughter. Drake wasn’t prepared to cause the child any additional harm. He feared if he attacked Angel outright, then his vision of a deceased Emma Blaze would come to pass. Instead, he had another plan of attack.

He separated his hands and extended his arms, his open palms facing the sky. When he opened his eyes, they glowed just as brightly as the energy that encircled him. Rings of energy flowed down his arms and once they left his fingertips, they dissipated into the air. As they did, those rings appeared around Angel’s deformed body. Drake slowly turned his palms towards each other and then brought them together at a careful pace. As he did, the rings surrounding Angel shrunk in their radius until she found herself bound by the bright beams of energy. She cried out and attempted to struggle against the bonds, but it was a futile act.

Drake closed his eyes once again and uttered another silent prayer to the spirits who fueled his power. He placed his palms against the ground and a dome of blue energy surrounded Angel, then dissipated just as quick. If the rings failed to contain her, then the mystical barrier would stop her from causing any damage to anyone who may pass by. Drake had no desire to leave such a dangerous creature unattended to, but he couldn’t kill her without risking Emma’s life and he couldn’t remain here for fear of his vision coming to pass. Instead, he clasped his hands together once more and whispered another prayer. In a bright flash of light, he was gone.

Jack Murdock groaned in pain as he pulled himself to a sitting position. The whiskey was still heavy in his system, weighing his entire body down. He found it amazing that he was even able to make it to the orphanage in one piece. But the bullet that hit Emma Blaze’s shoulder was meant to be a warning shot. His coordination was completely shot and his vision was blurred.

Emma Blaze hovered towards him, her feet a few inches above the ground. From Murdock’s perspective, however, it was as if there were two of them, blurring in and out of focus. It was a mistake for him to come here when he was drunk, but if he didn’t try to stop this, who would?

She came closer to him, and reached her hands towards his face. Her tiny palms flattened against his cheeks and he screamed. The pain was searing, as if two burning hot coals had been placed on his flesh. He lifted his leg up and kicked the child in the chest. Emma Blaze flew back and landed hard on the floor.

Murdock attempted to stand, but found himself staggering a bit. He looked down and saw his handguns. He bent down to pick them up and collapsed on his face.

“Shit…”

Emma came towards him once more.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” she said. “You’re not a very nice person, are you? You set a bad example for little girls like me.”

She grabbed his hair and lifted his gaze to her own. He could smell the hair on his head burning beneath her grasp. She smiled wide and twisted the fingers of her free hand into a claw-like shape. Emma placed her fingertips against Jack’s forehead. At first, they only caused a light burning sensation. But then she began to sink her fingertips deeper into his head. Jack screamed as her fingers burned their way past his flesh and cutting through the surface of his skull, like mini blowtorches.

“We must do something about your manners,” she said. “Simply can’t have all this drinking and shooting and swearing. It’s not a nice environment for children!”

Outside, Jack could hear a low rumbling noise that gradually grew louder and louder. As it approached closer, he knew it sounded familiar. It was the sound of a motorcycle engine. However, it was mixed with something else. Something which sounded vaguely like cries of pain and agony.

The wall shattered in a mass of bricks and mortar as a bike with wheels composed of bright red, yellow and orange flames crashed into the orphanage. Above the headlight was a metal skull with sharp teeth and flames shooting from its eye sockets. Extending from this where handlebars that resembled human bones. The bike itself seemed to have charred human flesh draped across it.

The rider of the demonic cycle stepped off. He wore heavy work boots and leather pants. A leather jacket covered the top of his body, sealed tightly. A chain belt was wrapped around his waist and spikes adorned his shoulders. His forearms were wrapped with chains and his hands were covered with leather gloves. Gloves that had small spikes over the knuckles.

But most shocking of all was his head. Instead of a human face, he instead had a skull that was completely engulfed in flames. Deep within the dark sockets of the skull were two bright red orbs, like burning cinders.

Emma Blaze turned away from Jack and looked at the Ghost Rider. She smiled while clapping her hands together. “Daddy’s home!”

The Ghost Rider extended his fingers and the chains on his forearms slithered into his open palms. He recoiled his left arm and whipped it forward. The chain rocketed forth like an extension of the demon’s arm. It wrapped around Emma Blaze’s small body. Flames flowed from the Ghost Rider’s hands into Emma Blaze’s body. Yet there was no smoke as her body became engulfed in the fire. No smell of burnt hair or flesh or clothing. The flames, instead, were frigid. The purpose of hellfire was to burn the soul as opposed to the body.

Murdock rubbed his forehead where Emma had tried to burrow inside his skull. He cringed and bit his teeth at the tenderness of the wounds. He watched the Ghost Rider assault the daughter of its human host and Murdock felt a tinge of regret. But he knew this had to be done, he knew the child had to be stopped.

Out of the corner of his eye, Murdock caught the flash of blue light. He recognized the energy signature as well as the figure that appeared once the light faded. It was Drake, Murdock’s partner in the mercenary business. Murdock’s spirits lifted once he laid eyes on his old friend and he wanted to instantly go to his friend’s side. Before he could move, Drake extended his hand towards the Ghost Rider and fired a bolt of mystic energy at the demon.

The blow caught the Ghost Rider unawares and he staggered. The sudden distraction caused him to break his concentration on his intended victim, and the chain recoiled from the body of Emma Blaze, instantly returning to the Ghost Rider’s forearm. The demon cast his gaze to Drake, locking his burning eyes with the sorcerer’s.

“Leave her be, spirit,” said Drake. “She’s an innocent.”

“She has spilled innocent blood,” said the Ghost Rider. Murdock thought it might be the whiskey, but there was something different about the demon’s voice. It sounded far raspier and far more inhuman than it had in the past.

“She’s a victim, she’s not deserving of your vengeance,” said Drake.

“If you stand in the way of my wrath, than you shall be its recipient!”

The chains left the Ghost Rider’s forearm once more, flying towards Drake. The Indian mystic attempted to block them with his spiritual energies, but it was a futile effort. The chains quickly wrapped around his body and within an instant, Drake’s soul was seared by the Ghost Rider’s hellfire.

Jack Murdock watched as the Ghost Rider tortured his friend’s soul, almost with glee. The demon laughed and it was a sound that chilled Jack Murdock to the very bone. He knew he had to stop this thing before it killed his friend. The mercenary charged and threw all his body weight forward as he collided with the Spirit of Vengeance. The two tumbled on the ground and Drake found himself released.

Emma Blaze’s eyes focused on the chaos before her. And through her eyes, another watched as well. From the safety of his self-imposed isolation, the son of Mephisto watched the events unfold with a perverted sense of pleasure.

Everything was going according to plan for Blackheart. His corruption of Blaze’s child was almost complete and soon. Zarathos’ thirst for vengeance wouldn’t allow him to let Emma go unpunished. And when that punishment came, Blaze will have finally lost everything. With his psyche shattered, Blaze would be nothing more than an empty shell. And the Ghost Rider would be nothing more than a memory.

And Blackheart laughed. His father’s attempts to curtail his own machinations were coming apart at the seams. Soon, he would overthrow Mephisto and take over as one of the Lords of Hell.

Doctor Vale hated to admit it, but she had now grown accustomed to the pain. When young Emma Blaze had snapped and began acting like Linda Blair in The Exorcist, Doctor Vale thought she had seen it all. That was before she saw a drunken mercenary wrestling around on the ground with a biker that had a flaming skull for a head.

Doctor Vale was careful to move. The flesh of her face that had been fused with her shoulder was very delicate and she didn’t want to tear it for fear of losing too much. She wasn’t sure how Emma had done what she did; physically speaking it wasn’t even possible. Physically speaking, nothing that had happened in the past few hours was possible. But it was happening and Doctor Vale knew she had to try to get out and get help.

Emma Blaze wasn’t about to let that happen, however.

As if sensing her thoughts, the child faced Doctor Vale and the psychiatrist felt herself forced back into the chair. Emma leapt onto Doctor Vale’s lap and looked at her with an eerie grin plastered over her young features.

“Doctor Lady isn’t leaving already, the fun hasn’t even started yet,” said Emma. “You still have to meet my boyfriend. He should be here soon. And it would be very rude if you left before he came. He’s so looking forward to meeting you and all of us can play games together. He taught me many games, you know.”

Doctor Vale didn’t know who Emma’s ‘boyfriend’ was or what games he taught the child, and she had a feeling she didn’t want to know, either. Emma giggled and placed her hands on one of Doctor Vale’s wrists, holding it to the armrest. Vale felt a burning sensation in her wrist and then the scent of burning flesh violated her nostrils. Vale cried out from the searing pain. Emma melted the flesh from Vale’s wrist and pulled it around the armrest, tying the doctor to the chair. She did the same to Vale’s other wrist, giggling the entire time.

“See? Now you can’t leave before he gets here!” said Emma.

“Please… oh god please just let me go…”

“Quiet!” screamed Emma, clasping her hands over her ears. “Such naughty, naughty language! Ladies shouldn’t talk like that! You should know better, Doctor Lady!”

Emma shoved her hand into Vale’s mouth and gripped her tongue, pulling it out. She closed the doctor’s mouth with her other hand, biting down hard on the exposed tongue. Doctor Vale could taste her own blood as her teeth cut into her tongue. Then, Emma flattened the tongue against Vale’s lips and the burning sensation came back. Doctor Vale tried to scream, but all that came out was a muffled noise as Emma melted the tongue against the woman’s lips, fusing them all together.

“There, now Doctor Lady can’t use bad language any more,” said Emma.

The Ghost Rider backhanded Jack Murdock, and the demon’s supernatural strength sent the mercenary flying across the room. He struck the wall and sunk to the ground. The Ghost Rider approached his adversary, but was struck by another mystic bolt from Drake.

“Your fight is with me, spirit–leave him out of this!”

“It matters not. Soon both your souls will burn at the touch of my hellfire.”

Murdock’s vision slowly started to become more focused. He felt less groggy, but his head pounded. He saw one of his handguns on the ground and picked it up before pulling himself into a standing position.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph…” he muttered. His eyes took in the sight of Doctor Vale, her cheek fused to her shoulder through a long strand of skin and the flesh around her wrists bonded to the armrests. But what he found even more frightening was the sight of her tongue fused against her lips in a sick mockery of the human body.

He took his handgun and lifted it to the psychiatrist’s head. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and then shut them tight. Jack Murdock whispered a silent prayer and then pulled the trigger.

Murdock turned his gaze to Emma, who even now walked closer to Kerry Weis, the television reporter. The other possessed children held the woman down as Emma neared. Murdock looked at the Ghost Rider battling Drake and then at Emma Blaze. Jack was sure Drake’s heart was in the right place, trying to protect the child. However, this had gone too far. The child was obviously tainted by Blackheart’s evil; so much that redemption was now impossible.

Murdock lifted his gun and took careful aim. He pulled the trigger and the bullet left the barrel of the gun. It sliced through the air and burrowed through the back of Emma Blaze’s head. Blood splattered on Kerry Weis’ face and the lifeless body of the five-year-old fell against the reporter.

The children’s eyes suddenly returned to normal and they released their grip on Kerry Weis. The Ghost Rider and Drake ended their battle and both found their attention drawn towards Emma’s body. Zarathos’ gaze drifted to Jack Murdock and he approached. Murdock stood defiantly up to the demon and he tightened his grip on the gun.

Suddenly, the Ghost Rider stopped his approach. He looked from Drake to Murdock and then turned away from the pair. Slowly, he approached Emma Blaze’s body. He carefully cradled her frail form in his arms and mounted his hellfire cycle. Without another word, the Ghost Rider drove off into the distance.

Drake placed his hand on Murdock’s shoulder and the gruff mercenary looked at his partner and closest friend.

“Why’d he stop?”

“I believe it’s because you did the right thing,” said Drake. “It seems I was wrong. The child fell too far. But now, I just worry what this means for Blaze.”

John Blaze stood at the remains of the Quentin Carnival. He puffed away on a cigarette as he looked over the dozens of makeshift crosses he assembled and stuck in the ground as markers for the graves of his family and friends.

Once more, his association with the Spirit of Vengeance had ruined his life. Blackheart killed his son and turned his daughter into something unspeakable, just as he had to Blaze’s wife at one point. Surprisingly, however, Blaze had no desire for revenge. Only sorrow filled his soul.

PENCIL OF VENGEANCE 

I thought it would be fitting to rewrite my author’s notes on this issue and give some background on how exactly this book came to be here. Those of you who read this series at the dearly departed Strange Tales may have been surprised to see it end up here. But after Strange Tales closed its doors, Chris and I had a chat about the series. We realized that there was a pretty interesting back-story to how Blaze ended up where he did in Meriades Rai’s first issue of this series. And looking back on the work the two of us (and John Wick) had done with the character at Strange Tales, we realized that it actually worked very nicely as a prologue.

So with Chris’ blessing (unfortunately, we had no way of contacting John at the time—he’s since reached out and thanked us for keeping the title alive, and also submitted a story for Amazing Fantasy), I brought the series over to Marvel Omega. At first, some may remember that it was a limited series titled Ghost Rider: Two-Lane Highway. But about two issues into it, I thought that it was unnecessary to have a separate series when we could easily do it in the pages of this book.

The question now becomes, what happens to the Ghost Rider from here? Well, Blaze has recently popped up in the pages of The Defenders and there’s also a three-issue run I did on Ghost Rider over at Marvel Anthology, featuring a different host (a series I recently recovered). So there’s a good possibility you’ll see that end up here.

However, we’ve got something a bit different to keep your interest. The Spirits of Vengeance mini-series, each issue written by a different writer, and featuring some of the most talented GR scribes in the community.

Dino Pollard
July 2009