[b]Johnny Blaze
The Broken Glass[/b]

Johnny's botted foot slammed against the rough, wooden door of the bar, sending wood splintering across the dirty, dusty floor, and causing the attention of at least a dozen large, slobbering men to blare against his leather-wrapped form at almost the exact same time. The blonde-haired man didn't even flinch, silence now penetrating the previous loud atmosphere as Johnny made his way towards the bar, his combat boots cracking along the floor with each footstep. The stares continued, even as he casually sat down on one of the torn, barely cushioned seats, bring his elbows up to rest against the rough wooden surface of the counter top. Blue eyes glanced up at the bartender, locking eyes with the cautious greasy-haired man, whom had stopped wiping dirt into an already dirty shot glass. As he looked into the man's eyes, he felt it. The worming, slithering sin of a rapist, a conman, and a murderer. This is what he had been feeling...this is what his soul had been yearning to devour. This is what had kept him from sleeping the past night. With a snort, Johnny looked back down onto the wooden surface of the counter-top, his gloved fists clenching.

 [b]"Whiskey. The full bottle."[/b] He muttered, his deep, rough voice holding a slightly raspy undertone. The bartender was broken out of his reverie by the request, the greasy-haired man nodded once, reaching underneath the counter to grab a large bottle of dusty, oldened whisky. His perverse, sickening grin was barely hiddened as he bent down to grab the whiskey, but Johnny had already caught the sight. [i]Then that's how it's gonna' go down...[/i] The bottle was slid across the counter to him, and Johnny caught it by the neck, popping the top with the tip of his thumb. Everyone watched the man, the thugs holding grins on their faces as they waited for the next fool to fall for the bartender's 'death whiskey' con. 

Johnny stood, the 'death whiskey' now closer and closer to his lips. The thugs begin to edge closer, ready to grab him and take his money, jacket, and anything worth anything once he died from the poison overtaking his system. Johnny pressed the bottle fully to his mouth, and downed it all, amongst the clowd of onlookers. As the crowd began to laugh, Johnny wiped his mouth with the back of a gloved hand, before cracking his neck. 

[b]"Y'know..."[/b] He began, his voice beginning to grow more raspier with each syllable said[b], "That was som' really good wh[i][b]iskey[/b][/i]!"[/b] At the end of his sentence, Johnny suddenly growled his words loudly, his voice turning deeper and disembodied, and much, much more demonic. The thugs were shocked, and began to back away, only for Johnny's head to begin shaking at an abornmal wait, growling as his face began to blacken. One man, a bald one, yelled and sprinted forward, a meaty fist slamming against Johnny's face, and throwing his head sharply to the right. The crowb began to gain their momentum back at the hit, and the bald man began laughing. 

[i][b]"Nice...hit."[/b][/i] Crimson, searing hot fire suddenly blasted from every pore of Johnny's exposed body, blinding the thugs around him. As the light slowly began to become normal, the bald blinked his eyes, staring at the...thing in front of him. It took him seconds to completely gain his eyesight back, and when he did, he shat himself...literally. A flaming skeleton in spiked leather stared back at him, grabbing him by the neck with it's right gloved hand. A dark spot on the bald man's front side of pants showed that he had also pissed himself. The flaming skeleton tilted it's head, seeming to sniff the air, before it glanced down at the man's soiled trousers. It began to release a demonic yell, barfing flaming hell-fire and molten lava out of it's mouth, causing the bald man to scream as his skin and soul was melt alive where he stood. Johnny held him with one hand, even as he became nothing more than goop. He dropped the remains, lowly looking up at the crowd. They all stared back, each one shaking in their boots, and most having soiled themselves as well. The already disgusting-smelling pub began to smell even worse. 

The sound of a shotgun cocking behind him caused Johnny to instinctively twist on his feet, his hand lashing out with the emptied whiskey bottle. A demonic laugh ripped from his skeletal throat as the whiskey bottle cracked against the bartender's head, sending him flying into the wall behind him. The Ghost Rider instantly blurred through the air, appearing on the table with his head twisted unnaturally, before appearing to the side of the bartender, his empty black eye sockets simply staring at the man. The broken entrance to the pub was suddenly blocked by Hell-Fire, and as one man tried to run through the wall of flames, he was instantly vaporized and melted. The Hell-Fire slowly began to spread to the walls of the pub. The Ghost Rider grabbed the bartender by the chest, picking the man up and slamming him into the wooden counter, easily breaking right through the wood, before picking the man up once again, hanging him in the air as he stared into the man's eyes. The man could only stare, along with everyone else in the pub, although some still attempted to escape, which ended with their demise. The Rider's eyes began to glow a deep, molten red, mirrored by Butch's own. 

[i][b]"You're all...guilty. For the sins...the overwhelming sins. But you, Butch Manning...do you remember the sobs that escaped your wife's heart as you plunged the knife deeper into her chest, cleaving any and all of the spirit and life she had left behind from your already abusive marriage? Do you remember the pain in your mother and father's eyes as you kicked them out of their own home, under the pretense of a retirement home? Do you remember...sneaking into their retirement home, and slitting their thro-"[/b][/i]

[i]"I-I'M SORR-"[/i]

[i][b]"Forgiveness is only within the eye of the Beholder...and the Beholder have judged you as guilty. Live your sins, all of your sins...for eternity. Feel their pain, their betrayal...their humiliation, their sadness, their anger, and their desperation!"[/b][/i]

As the fire began to consume them all, they could only watch as the bartender began to scream an ungodly, pain-filled scream, as his soul was sent to Hell.

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[b]Outside of the Broken Glass
Johnny Blaze[/b]

Outside of the burning establishment, within the dark, shadowy Hell's Kitchen, a blonde-haired man in a leather jacket leaned against a parked low-riding motorcycle, a nottle of wine in his hands. He took a sip of the so-called 'Death Wine', feeling the hemlock squeeze going down his throat with the feeling of fire. The man grunted, a frown pulling at his lips. [b]"How long're you gonna' stand there?"[/b] He called out, his blue eyes sharply turning to a slightly distorted shadow in the already darkened alleyway. A woman in a sharp uniform walked out into the open, and although there was a helmet and visor covering her face, he could practically see the fear wafting off of her professional form like the smell of sin wafted off of a guilty man. Johnny straightened up dropping the wine at his feet. As it fell against the ground, it suddenly exploded in a small circle of Hell-Fire, destroying it forever. 

[i]"Are you M-Mr. Blaze?"[/i] She asked, her voice wavering for a second, before steeling itself. Obviously, she had seen the show that had happened not too long ago. Johnny shrugged, his blue eyes beginning to narrow. [b]"Depends on whose askin'."[/b] He responded, crossing his arms over his chest.

[i]"S.H.I.E.L.D."[/i] The woman responded, taking a pair of keys out of her pockets. She clicked a button located on the keyring, and the sound of hovering began to grow louder and louder. This was the agent, then. He had already talked with Fury on this all...well, not all. The man had approached him at some bar, and had offered the proposition. He guessed that he had offered before-hand, since everyone apparently thought the Ghost Rider was 'unstable' and 'dangerous'. He guessed they'd be right. Regardless, he had agreed to this, and to respectable people, he would honor his word 'till they did something that made him say 'fuck it' and leave. He pushed off of his motorcycle bike, uncrossing his arns. The high-tec plane slowly uncloaked, revealling itself in all of it's sharpness. Johnny's right eyebrow rose, slightly. [b]"Damn."[/b]

____________________________________________________________________________

As the SHIELD agent opened the door, bringing him into an auditorium, Johnny looked over his surroundings. It was a pretty big space, but the thing that brough the most attention to him was the people near the center. A rather short, yet stocky man that he thought he dully remembered from a few bars, a geeky-looking teen, a similarly geeky-looking girl that looked around the same age as the geeky boy, a girly, feminine-looking blonde boy, and a militarized woman. Johnny exhaled, cracking his hands, heat beginning to waft from his body. 

[i]"What are you doing?"[/i] The woman asked, stopping in her prompt walk. Johnny frowned, looking down at the agent. 

[b]"I guess I won't be beatin' their asses?"[/b] He asked, dropping his hands. He had to resist a demonic grin when the woman flinched back at the thought of him fighting. Well damn, he really did leave a lasting impression on her. As she began walking over to the group, Johnny followed, his bootsteps creating a clicking sound with each step. If these weren't some jackasses that he had to fight - which was a relief, since he didn't really sense sin on the younger kids - then, naturally, he assumed that this was that 'group' Fury had warned him about. Just his goddamn luck...to be paired with a bunch of brats, an effeminate weirdo, and...a guy he couldn't really insult within his mind, due to not really having any qualms with his outward appearance. Shit.

As they stopped close to the group, the Agent walked over to her other Agents, joining them in being all silent and intimidating. Johnny snorted, walking over to the group, and greeting them with a stiff 'Wassup' nod. [b]"Name's Blaze."[/b] He said shortly, so that he wouldn't need to go through awkward introductions later. He felt like this was going to be a really shitty process. If they tried to stop him from doing his job, then that's when the real problem would come out...