Multiverse's Ghost Rider

Following the directions he'd gathered, Jon finally reached the house of the man who had posted the notice. Outside, a man was chopping firewood, braving the biting wind.

"Mr. Pierce?" Jon called out from behind.

The man turned, axe still raised. "Something I can help you with?" Then, recognizing Jon, he added, "Wait a minute, I know you! You're the one who came back with Gaston yesterday, right?"

"That's me," Jon nodded. "I came because of the notice you posted."

"The notice?" Pierce hesitated for a moment, then jammed his axe into a nearby stump and gestured toward the door. "Come in."

Jon followed him inside, quickly noticing the difference, compared to Gaston's house, this place was practically falling apart.

"Did Gaston send you?" Pierce asked, sounding hopeful.

"No, I saw the notice myself," Jon replied.

Pierce's shoulders slumped, visibly disappointed. "I asked Gaston to help, but he gave up after searching for several days without results. I didn't know what else to do, so I posted that notice, hoping some capable traveler might lend a hand."

"Well, you're in luck," Jon said with a grin. "I'm a monster hunter, I specialize in eliminating creatures like this."

"Monster hunter?" Pierce frowned. "What even is that?"

Jon smirked. "Isn't it obvious? It's exactly what it sounds like. We're professionally trained to deal with supernatural threats. Of course, we don't work for free."

"You expect me to believe anyone can fight monsters?" Pierce sounded doubtful.

Jon shrugged. "You've heard how witches are afraid of iron, right? Just like them, monsters have their own weaknesses. Some fear charcoal, others silver, some burn in fire, and believe it or not, some can't even stand garlic, onions, or crosses. We monster hunters study those weaknesses and combine that knowledge with specific combat training to take them down."

Pierce hesitated, then walked over to the fireplace. From behind it, he pulled out a small pouch and counted out a few weathered copper coins, twelve in total.

"This is all I have," he said, offering them with an open hand.

Jon didn't take them. Instead, he said, "Put them back. Once I do the job, then you can pay me."

He leaned forward. "Now, tell me everything you know about this creature."

"I already wrote the details in the notice," Pierce said.

"Where exactly did it take your child? What time? How did it happen?" Jon pressed.

Pierce paused, thinking. "It was at night. The creature broke into our home. We've been going through hard times lately, so we didn't light any candles that night. I couldn't see it clearly, just a vague silhouette. Its limbs and body were long and thin, like sticks. Its face was... unusually long. And it made this eerie chiming noise, like a clock."

"Then it just grabbed little Jimmy without a word. Said he was to be sacrificed to its master."

Jon's brows furrowed. "Wait… it spoke?"

Pierce nodded grimly. "Yes. It talked."

"Can I see the place where it happened?" Jon asked.

Pierce hesitated, clearly reluctant, but finally agreed. "Alright. This way."

He led Jon to their dining table, and something on it immediately caught Jon's eye.

On the table sat a plate with half-eaten bread. But this wasn't just any bread—it was white bread, soft and fresh-looking.

That raised an eyebrow.

Even Gaston couldn't afford bread like this. The villagers all lived off coarse black bread.

"Strange," Jon remarked. "To my knowledge, people around here can't afford that kind of bread."

Pierce rushed to explain. "Ah—yes! A wealthy merchant passed through here recently. I helped him out with a small favor, and he gave me some of his bread."

Jon didn't even need to use magic to know the man was lying. Rich men didn't hand out food as thanks, they handed out coins. Still, he didn't press the issue.

"I need you to step outside," Jon said calmly. "I'm going to search the room for clues. Can't concentrate with someone hovering around."

"But…" Pierce hesitated, reluctant, then gave in. "Alright."

Before leaving, he made sure to snatch up the bread.

Jon hadn't asked Pierce to leave just for focus. He needed to cast a spell—and he hadn't forgotten Gaston's warning. The people here were highly suspicious of magic. Best to avoid unnecessary trouble.

He drew his wand and whispered an incantation, [Sin Mark], a spell he himself had created long ago to track the aura of guilty beings.

Instantly, a trail of blood-red mist shimmered into existence. It snaked its way out of the house, curling into the distance and slipping deep into the forest.

"Looks like I'm going for a walk in the woods," Jon muttered, setting off.

The heavy snowfall had turned the forest into a silent, frigid wasteland. Animals were scarce. Those that remained had grown restless, even hostile. It wasn't hard to see why the village was facing famine.

Yet Jon moved through the snow as if it were nothing. He didn't feel the cold. When beasts blocked his path, a mere flick of his hand and a burst of flame cleared the way.

Before long, he reached the source of the crimson trail, and to his surprise, he saw a castle rising in the distance, nestled on the far edge of the forest.

He remembered Gaston had mentioned one.

But Jon suddenly stopped. The red mist ended here. That meant the creature was nearby.

He scanned the area, then called out loudly, "You can come out now. There's no point hiding."

As soon as he spoke, a tall shadow stepped out from behind one of the trees.

When Jon saw it, he froze for a split second.

The creature matched Pierce's description almost perfectly—its limbs were long and stick-thin, and its body narrow. But its face… was something else entirely.

It was a clock.

Its body and limbs were crafted from long, metallic rods. And in place of a face was a round timepiece—ticking, gleaming faintly.

So that was where the chiming sound came from.

"Well… this is definitely one of the weirder ones," Jon muttered.

"You've come here, human," said the creature. Its voice was unsettlingly normal—perfectly human. Yet its face had no mouth. The sound came from nowhere.