Multiverse's Ghost Rider

The wailing sirens of the police car echoed through the night, piercing the silence that had fallen over the scene. The flashing red and blue lights cast an eerie glow on the faces of Jon, Chris, Annie, and Ayla as they watched the police officers apprehend the assailant. Jon was also taken into custody, his hands bound in cuffs, a stark contrast to the calm demeanor he maintained.

The police station was a flurry of activity, with officers rushing about, their faces etched with seriousness. The four of them were led into separate rooms, their testimonies recorded over several grueling hours. The gravity of the situation was not lost on them; an attempted murder was no small matter, especially when the assailant was found with a loaded gun.

The victim, Chris, bore a striking resemblance to the attacker, a fact that did not escape the keen eyes of the police. The assailant, on the other hand, sat in the interrogation room, his gaze vacant, his mind seemingly lost in a labyrinth of confusion. His inability to answer the questions directed at him only deepened the mystery surrounding the incident.

The police officers were suspicious of Jon, their eyes filled with doubt as they questioned him. However, Jon maintained his innocence, his calm demeanor unshaken. Annie and Chris vouched for him, their words painting a picture of an honest, law-abiding citizen. The witnesses corroborated their statements, all of them attesting to seeing Jon merely subdue the attacker.

Yet, the truth was far more complex. Jon had used the Penance Stare on the assailant, a power he possessed in his human form. Had he been in his Spirit of Vengeance form, the effect would have been catastrophic, leading to the immediate death of the assailant. Jon had chosen this course of action out of fear that the gun might go off, but in retrospect, he felt a pang of regret. He could have used magic to stun the assailant, avoiding the ensuing chaos.

Despite their suspicions, the police were unable to find any evidence against Jon. They had no choice but to release him, their doubts still lingering. The incident was eventually closed, leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions.

As they left the police station, the tension that had been hanging over them slowly dissipated. They climbed into Chris' car, the silence in the vehicle broken by Chris' voice. "Huh, you saved my life today, buddy!" he said, his voice tinged with a hint of fear.

Jon shrugged, his response casual. "It's nothing, you would do the same!"

Chris laughed heartily at Jon's words, his laughter echoing in the confines of the car. "Hahaha! You are right!" he exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He turned to face Jon, his expression serious. "What do you think? The band is going to play at the billiards bar tonight. Shall we go together?"

Annie's reaction was immediate. "What? Are you crazy, Chris?! Do you still want to continue to be shot?!" she scolded, her worry evident in her voice.

Chris brushed off her concerns with a wave of his hand. "Don't be nervous, babe!" he said, his tone reassuring. "It was a random accident. I can guarantee that nothing will happen tonight!"

Annie sighed, her frustration clear. She had always found it difficult to change Chris' mind once he had made a decision. "How is it, Jon? This kind of thing has been happening for the past two days, it's time to relax!" Chris said, turning his attention back to Jon.

Jon remained silent, his gaze shifting to Annie. She shrugged, her words nonchalant. "Go if you want, don't look at me, just remember to come back early!" she said, her tone resigned.

Jon considered her words, his mind weighing the pros and cons. After a moment, he nodded, his decision made. "Okay! There is nothing to worry about anyway," he said, his words bringing a sense of finality to the conversation. The night was still young, and the promise of a relaxing evening was too tempting to resist.

***

After bidding farewell to Annie and Ayla, who had taken a taxi home, Chris and Jon set off towards the billiards bar. The band members were already there, their instruments tuned and ready to fill the night with music. However, before they could reach their destination, Jon turned to Chris, his voice steady.

"Can you pull over, buddy?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

Chris' face immediately filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes scanning Jon for any signs of discomfort. "There is a hospital nearby. We can go if you want?"

Jon shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "I just want to walk a little bit, buddy. You know I have been through a lot the last couple of days. I will catch up with you after some time. You go ahead of me," he said, his tone reassuring.

Chris sighed, his worry replaced by understanding. "Indeed. As you wish, dude. You see the bar there and you have my number, so just in case you need something just call me," he said, his voice filled with concern. He watched as Jon stepped out of the car, his figure disappearing into the night.

Jon stood alone on the deserted street, his eyes burning with a fiery determination. A smirk spread across his face as he muttered, "Found you!"

Jon had kept a crucial piece of information from the police. The man who had attempted to assassinate Chris had not been alone. From the moment Jon had sensed the sinful thoughts of the attacker, he had also felt the presence of another man, lurking in the shadows, watching the scene unfold. However, Jon had been focused on the immediate threat, the man advancing towards Chris. As soon as Jon had subdued the attacker, the accomplice had fled, leaving his comrade behind.

But Jon had not forgotten him. He knew he had to eliminate this threat to ensure the safety of his friends and family. As the Ghost Rider, Jon possessed the ability to track sinful individuals. His supernatural connection to sin allowed him to sense the presence of those who had committed wrongdoings. Guided by a sense of justice, he sought to punish the wicked and bring them to repentance.

With this in mind, Jon approached a parked motorcycle. As he activated his Spirit of Vengeance form, his touch ignited the motorcycle, the flames dancing on its surface, a testament to the demonic powers he possessed.

Boom! Boom!

The sound of the motorcycle's engine roared through the night, shattering the silence. Jon rode the flaming motorcycle, his figure a blazing streak against the darkness. The windows and glasses of the buildings he passed shattered under the force of his passage, the shards glittering in the light of the flames. The chase had begun, and Jon was determined to bring the accomplice to justice.

***

Under the cloak of the night, Jon, the Ghost Rider, began his spectral hunt. His prey, a man whose soul was as black as the tar that lined the city streets of New York. The city, a concrete jungle, was a labyrinth of sin and vice, but Jon's ethereal senses were attuned to the frequency of malevolence. He could feel the sinful man's presence, a dark stain on the fabric of existence, leading him away from the city's steel and glass towers, towards the untouched wilderness.

The journey was a stark contrast, from the city's neon lights to the countryside's moonlit serenity. The Ghost Rider's flaming skull reflected in the still waters of the lakes he passed, his hellfire bike leaving a trail of scorched earth in its wake.

The sinful man's heart pounded in his chest as he caught sight of the flaming skeletal figure on the motorcycle. His eyes widened in terror, his breath hitching in his throat. "What the hell is th..?!!!" he began, his voice trembling with fear.

But before he could finish his sentence, the flaming rider zoomed past him, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. The rider came to a halt a mile away, his skeletal figure illuminated by the flames, waiting.

The sight of the flaming specter sent a jolt of fear through the man. He slammed on the brakes, the tires of his car screeching against the asphalt. He flung open the car door, his eyes darting around in panic. Spotting a nearby forest, he bolted towards it, his heart pounding in his chest.

The forest was a maze of towering trees and dense undergrowth, the moonlight barely penetrating the thick canopy. The man stumbled through the underbrush, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He could hear the distant roar of the motorcycle, the sound echoing through the forest, a chilling reminder of the pursuit.

Meanwhile, Jon watched as the man disappeared into the forest. His flaming gaze followed the man's path, his senses attuned to the man's fear. He knew the forest would provide the man with cover, but it would not deter him. He was the Ghost Rider, the Spirit of Vengeance, and he would not rest until justice was served.

***

The sinful man had sought refuge in the deserted forests, perhaps thinking the isolation would shield him. But there was no hiding from the Spirit of Vengeance.

The forest was a cathedral of ancient trees, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal hands.

The Ghost Rider, his skull ablaze with hellfire, approached the sinful man. The man was trembling, his eyes wide with terror as he looked upon the spectral figure before him.

"Who are you?" the sinful man stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

"I am the Ghost Rider," Jon replied, his voice echoing with an otherworldly resonance. "The Spirit of Vengeance."

The sinful man swallowed hard, his gaze darting around the forest as if searching for an escape. "What do you want from me?"

"Confession," the Ghost Rider said, his fiery gaze never wavering. "Confess your sins. Tell me where your other comrades hide."

The sinful man hesitated, his lips quivering. But the Ghost Rider's gaze was unrelenting, a burning demand for truth. Finally, the man broke. "We... we're in the old mill. North of here. But... but we didn't mean to..."

"Intentions matter little when weighed against actions," the Ghost Rider interrupted, his voice cold as stone. "You have caused pain. Suffering. Now, you will feel the weight of your sins."

The Ghost Rider reached out, gripping the sinful man's face in his skeletal hand. The man's eyes widened in terror as the Ghost Rider's Penance Stare took hold. His screams echoed through the forest, a chilling symphony of retribution.

The Penance Stare, a divine punishment, forced the sinful man to feel the pain of every soul he had wronged. It was a torment like no other, a mirror reflecting the darkness of his deeds. The sinful man writhed in agony, his screams fading into whimpers as the Ghost Rider's justice was meted out.

When it was over, the sinful man was left a husk, his soul purged of its sins. The Ghost Rider released him, his fiery gaze softening. "Go," he said, his voice a low growl. "And sin no more."

[The legendary mission has been updated, adjudicating a thousand sinful souls, the current progress is 34/1000]

With that, the Ghost Rider turned his hellfire bike towards the north, the location of the old mill etched into his mind. The night was still young, and the Spirit of Vengeance had more work to do.

--------------------

A/N: I know this work is still very new, but your opinions matter a lot to my progress, please write a review 🙏.

-----------------------

(A/N: If you want to see more chapters, go to my Patreon to see more chapters ahead.

patreon.com/TheMightyZeus

--------------------