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The Fateful Night in Detroit, because like everything of this nature, it was destined to go down in that Michigan Metropol. The man in black riding his motorcycle, dug up from his grave, a grave that had been empty long before he came there with lantern and shovel. His name was Johnny Blaze, but people these days only knew him as The Rider. Sitting on top of his father's old 1993 Harley Davidson, the bike he infused with the power of Vengeance so long ago. The wheels that tarnished the streets of America with hellfire and spread terror to the things that go bump in the night.
That bike is perhaps the only thing left to remind Johnny of who he was before he was the rider. When he was just a man. A man with a life, adopted into a loving family, spent his life as a performer and fell in love with a girl he had loved his entire life up until that point when they were seventeen. He was a daredevil, a defier of gravity and scared of nothing. Not of flaming rings or rows of buses. He knew his grit and his bike would carry him through it.
Those seconds he was in the air, the roar of the engine as he let go of the gas, the purr of his motorcycle. He felt immortal. And being able to feel that way again, after all those years in the pit? He almost couldn't believe it. He'd be happy, euphoric, even. If that was something he could still feel.
The freeway was empty. It was after all two in the morning. It was off the main road, but Mr. Blaze was hunting his target. And the White SUV with the tinted windows was coming up. They were pulling up onto the overpass, overshadowing the now closed down dive bars of Detroit, bars Johnny had once frequented. Health violations, he would've guessed. He grabbed the chain of Zarthal, demon of the north gate, from it's place wrapped around his shoulder and torso. Un-coiling it from himself with the grace of a olympic gymnast.
Sure, he lacked the magic to do any of the fancyness the chain could do. He couldn't make it burn, and he couldn't change it's shape anymore.
But what could he do with the indestructible metal rope?
Hit the back axle of the SUV. That's what he could do. He threw the chain, coiling around the axle, Coiling the end in his hand around the center part of his handlebar. With his left hand, he pushed the brakes. Forcing his motorcycle to halt, pulling on the chain, and as he started tipping forward, he put his weight on the back of his bike, forcing it back down to the ground after the chain went taunt, the car gave weight, breaking the back left wheel off. Johnny pulled the chain back, coiling it around his right arm as he pulled up alongside the now skidding car, coming to a halt from it's maimed journey.
He removed his black helmet, dismounting the bike. He tossed the helmet on the ground as the front door opened. From his left hip with his left arm, he pulled a revolver loaded with iron bullets blessed by a virgin. The first guard poked his head out, machine gun in hand. Johnny fired his first shot, hitting the guard straight in the head. His head didn't bleed, the bullet lodged in his skull, paralyzing him.
Johnny Fanned the hammer on the revolver as the other two doors opened firing through the car, hitting the guy in the passenger seat in each shoulder, the door closest to him swung open, he took a step backwards to avoid the door, but the possessed man inside lunged at him, Johnny took another step backwards to avoid getting knocked down, shoving his revolver under the man's chin and firing the bullet, seeing it getting lodged inside of his head, it shut him down completely with a spark.
"Come out here, Pride!" He shouted. "Your goons are down! I've come for you!" The rider yelled, the entire car shifted as the second backdoor opened, and Pride, wearing his 6'8 Mexican Cartel Boss- Meat Suit, smirked.
"Well well well. If it isn't little Johnny. Come here to play with the big boys, huh? Follows us out of hell? Came back to get a taste of the good life, ay?"
"There will be no life left for you after tonight, Pride. And after you, I'm killing your siblings."
"My my my, little Johnny's all full of himself. You're really gonna take us all down, all by yourself? Driving your dad's bike, using an old Rider's gun? C'mon. You think I don't know that revolver's the one, what, Hellbilly, used? What a stupid-ass name. You can't kill demons with it. Your blessed iron doesn't do anything but put my boys under for a bit. They'll recover, and it'll do nothi-" He was cut off by Johnny firing four shots into him, hitting his stomach, his chest and his forehead, throwing his head back, and making him take three steps backwards, leaning against the highway wall.
"Nothing but tickle me." He said, the bullets popping out of him as the impact-wound in his forehead immediately closed. A sadistic smile curling on his lips as he walked towards Johnny who was largely unphased, if only angrier by the futility of his firearm. His face was covered in darkness as the singular horn grew out of his left side of the face, his skin turning dark red and claws sprouting on his hands and he grew a half a feet and about doubled in muscle mass.
"You aren't surprised by my true form, Rider?" He asked, mockingly. His voice having a much deeper boom to it as Johnny simply shook his head.
"You aren't the first demon-son-of-a-bitch I've killed. I've waded in the blood of your kind, Pride. And you won't be the last." He holstered his revolver and drew his shotgun. Pride could smell the ammunition and knew he couldn't well, be prideful this time. This wasn't virgin-blessed iron.
He dashed, slicing at Johnny, who had to move backwards, his sawed off shotgun coming up into firing-height as Pride tackled him, the shot going off, but missing by half an inch. The buckshot hit the pavement, exploding into small burning bits of gunpowder.
"Where the hell did you get hellfire from?!" He shouted and Johnny simply smirked. "It's not the only trick up my sleeve." Pride slashed at him, Johnny drew the knife from his back, hitting Pride in his palm, the blade cut him with a bright light, Pride let out a painful groan at the presence of a blade powerful enough to harm him. While Pain was recoiling from the counter-attack, Johnny holstered the shotgun again, saving his remaining shot.
"You insect! A shard of Michael's sword, in your possession?!" He yelled, his voice exploding the windows on the SUV he had been riding in before. Completely stunned to learn that Johnny posessed one of the pieces of the now broken blade, that the Archangel had used to defeat his younger brother.
"A going away present from Hell. Mephisto called it my 500-year gold watch." Johnny goaded, twirling the blade in his hand.
"Heh. You think fighting for 500 years in the pit makes you special, boy?" Pride was getting more composed, less angry about the weaponry Johnny brought. He dashed forward, faster than Johnny could react, the man swiped at him with the knife, but Pride avoided it, jumping in a semi-circle around him, slashing Johnny in the side, a grazing wound. He kicked off again, his knee hitting Johnny in the stomach, while Johnny got to cut him in the arm with the knife, a shallow cut, but still one that pissed the demon off.
He clawed Johnny in the face, he slashed the demon's leg. Getting some distance between the far faster, stronger and more durable foe, Johnny realized he was losing a lot of blood. His leather jacket was soaked in it, in fact. The claw wound wasn't so shallow, after all. He had to end this, quick, or he was doomed. Something else caught his attention, too. The sound of engines in the distance. Motorcycles, getting closer.
"Oh. Look. It's my cavalry." Pride grinned, and Johnny finally showed another emotion than anger and confidence, he was actually concerned. "Ah, there we go. A crack in that armor of your, Johnny Blaze." Pride got ready to attack again, Johnny twirled the shining silver blade in his hand as Pride shared him, twirling it upside down and throwing it at the demon, aiming for his heart.
Like a bolt of lightning, the dagger soared through the air, piercing the demon in the chest.
He cried out in anger and pain, cursing the rider in his ancient tongue. Johnny had a smile on his lips, sure of his victory. But the demon didn't give in. His hand gripped the handle of the blade, pulling the blade out, as his hand and the wound both started burning from being in the presence of the divine blade. He threw the bloodied blade to the ground, his demonic blood lighting the ground on fire as the metal clinked to the floor. Johnny reached for his gun, but as he did, Pride was already upon him, unleashing a flurry of blows tearing him to shreds.
Cutting him up, breaking his arm, scratching him across the face again, putting Johnny on the ground with his boot-clad foot onto his chest, breaking his ribs. Johnny cried out in pain, but nobody was there to help him. The five bikes stopped beside them, and Pain motioned for the other demonic spawn to stay back. This one was his.
After breaking the last of his ribs, Pain grabbed Johnny by the neck and dangled him off the railing, below was a 20 meter drop. He was gonna choke the life out of him, and then drop him for good measure.
"You know what they say, Blaze. Pride cometh before the fall."
As Pride applied more pressure to Johnny's throat, the man's hand grabbed the shotgun and jerked it to the demon's face.
Uttering two most profound words in all of human language. Something not even the destruction of Babel could take away from us.
"Fuck. You." Johnny spat at Pride, who barely managed to parry with his arm as he pulled the trigger, unleashing the second shot of hellfire-loaded shotgun shell onto the demon, a loud explosion covered the two and Pride's grip on Johnny was loosened, he careened to the ground. A man beaten and broken, fire from his gun coming off him in ironic symbolism.
That bike is perhaps the only thing left to remind Johnny of who he was before he was the rider. When he was just a man. A man with a life, adopted into a loving family, spent his life as a performer and fell in love with a girl he had loved his entire life up until that point when they were seventeen. He was a daredevil, a defier of gravity and scared of nothing. Not of flaming rings or rows of buses. He knew his grit and his bike would carry him through it.
Those seconds he was in the air, the roar of the engine as he let go of the gas, the purr of his motorcycle. He felt immortal. And being able to feel that way again, after all those years in the pit? He almost couldn't believe it. He'd be happy, euphoric, even. If that was something he could still feel.
The freeway was empty. It was after all two in the morning. It was off the main road, but Mr. Blaze was hunting his target. And the White SUV with the tinted windows was coming up. They were pulling up onto the overpass, overshadowing the now closed down dive bars of Detroit, bars Johnny had once frequented. Health violations, he would've guessed. He grabbed the chain of Zarthal, demon of the north gate, from it's place wrapped around his shoulder and torso. Un-coiling it from himself with the grace of a olympic gymnast.
Sure, he lacked the magic to do any of the fancyness the chain could do. He couldn't make it burn, and he couldn't change it's shape anymore.
But what could he do with the indestructible metal rope?
Hit the back axle of the SUV. That's what he could do. He threw the chain, coiling around the axle, Coiling the end in his hand around the center part of his handlebar. With his left hand, he pushed the brakes. Forcing his motorcycle to halt, pulling on the chain, and as he started tipping forward, he put his weight on the back of his bike, forcing it back down to the ground after the chain went taunt, the car gave weight, breaking the back left wheel off. Johnny pulled the chain back, coiling it around his right arm as he pulled up alongside the now skidding car, coming to a halt from it's maimed journey.
He removed his black helmet, dismounting the bike. He tossed the helmet on the ground as the front door opened. From his left hip with his left arm, he pulled a revolver loaded with iron bullets blessed by a virgin. The first guard poked his head out, machine gun in hand. Johnny fired his first shot, hitting the guard straight in the head. His head didn't bleed, the bullet lodged in his skull, paralyzing him.
Johnny Fanned the hammer on the revolver as the other two doors opened firing through the car, hitting the guy in the passenger seat in each shoulder, the door closest to him swung open, he took a step backwards to avoid the door, but the possessed man inside lunged at him, Johnny took another step backwards to avoid getting knocked down, shoving his revolver under the man's chin and firing the bullet, seeing it getting lodged inside of his head, it shut him down completely with a spark.
"Come out here, Pride!" He shouted. "Your goons are down! I've come for you!" The rider yelled, the entire car shifted as the second backdoor opened, and Pride, wearing his 6'8 Mexican Cartel Boss- Meat Suit, smirked.
"Well well well. If it isn't little Johnny. Come here to play with the big boys, huh? Follows us out of hell? Came back to get a taste of the good life, ay?"
"There will be no life left for you after tonight, Pride. And after you, I'm killing your siblings."
"My my my, little Johnny's all full of himself. You're really gonna take us all down, all by yourself? Driving your dad's bike, using an old Rider's gun? C'mon. You think I don't know that revolver's the one, what, Hellbilly, used? What a stupid-ass name. You can't kill demons with it. Your blessed iron doesn't do anything but put my boys under for a bit. They'll recover, and it'll do nothi-" He was cut off by Johnny firing four shots into him, hitting his stomach, his chest and his forehead, throwing his head back, and making him take three steps backwards, leaning against the highway wall.
"Nothing but tickle me." He said, the bullets popping out of him as the impact-wound in his forehead immediately closed. A sadistic smile curling on his lips as he walked towards Johnny who was largely unphased, if only angrier by the futility of his firearm. His face was covered in darkness as the singular horn grew out of his left side of the face, his skin turning dark red and claws sprouting on his hands and he grew a half a feet and about doubled in muscle mass.
"You aren't surprised by my true form, Rider?" He asked, mockingly. His voice having a much deeper boom to it as Johnny simply shook his head.
"You aren't the first demon-son-of-a-bitch I've killed. I've waded in the blood of your kind, Pride. And you won't be the last." He holstered his revolver and drew his shotgun. Pride could smell the ammunition and knew he couldn't well, be prideful this time. This wasn't virgin-blessed iron.
He dashed, slicing at Johnny, who had to move backwards, his sawed off shotgun coming up into firing-height as Pride tackled him, the shot going off, but missing by half an inch. The buckshot hit the pavement, exploding into small burning bits of gunpowder.
"Where the hell did you get hellfire from?!" He shouted and Johnny simply smirked. "It's not the only trick up my sleeve." Pride slashed at him, Johnny drew the knife from his back, hitting Pride in his palm, the blade cut him with a bright light, Pride let out a painful groan at the presence of a blade powerful enough to harm him. While Pain was recoiling from the counter-attack, Johnny holstered the shotgun again, saving his remaining shot.
"You insect! A shard of Michael's sword, in your possession?!" He yelled, his voice exploding the windows on the SUV he had been riding in before. Completely stunned to learn that Johnny posessed one of the pieces of the now broken blade, that the Archangel had used to defeat his younger brother.
"A going away present from Hell. Mephisto called it my 500-year gold watch." Johnny goaded, twirling the blade in his hand.
"Heh. You think fighting for 500 years in the pit makes you special, boy?" Pride was getting more composed, less angry about the weaponry Johnny brought. He dashed forward, faster than Johnny could react, the man swiped at him with the knife, but Pride avoided it, jumping in a semi-circle around him, slashing Johnny in the side, a grazing wound. He kicked off again, his knee hitting Johnny in the stomach, while Johnny got to cut him in the arm with the knife, a shallow cut, but still one that pissed the demon off.
He clawed Johnny in the face, he slashed the demon's leg. Getting some distance between the far faster, stronger and more durable foe, Johnny realized he was losing a lot of blood. His leather jacket was soaked in it, in fact. The claw wound wasn't so shallow, after all. He had to end this, quick, or he was doomed. Something else caught his attention, too. The sound of engines in the distance. Motorcycles, getting closer.
"Oh. Look. It's my cavalry." Pride grinned, and Johnny finally showed another emotion than anger and confidence, he was actually concerned. "Ah, there we go. A crack in that armor of your, Johnny Blaze." Pride got ready to attack again, Johnny twirled the shining silver blade in his hand as Pride shared him, twirling it upside down and throwing it at the demon, aiming for his heart.
Like a bolt of lightning, the dagger soared through the air, piercing the demon in the chest.
He cried out in anger and pain, cursing the rider in his ancient tongue. Johnny had a smile on his lips, sure of his victory. But the demon didn't give in. His hand gripped the handle of the blade, pulling the blade out, as his hand and the wound both started burning from being in the presence of the divine blade. He threw the bloodied blade to the ground, his demonic blood lighting the ground on fire as the metal clinked to the floor. Johnny reached for his gun, but as he did, Pride was already upon him, unleashing a flurry of blows tearing him to shreds.
Cutting him up, breaking his arm, scratching him across the face again, putting Johnny on the ground with his boot-clad foot onto his chest, breaking his ribs. Johnny cried out in pain, but nobody was there to help him. The five bikes stopped beside them, and Pain motioned for the other demonic spawn to stay back. This one was his.
After breaking the last of his ribs, Pain grabbed Johnny by the neck and dangled him off the railing, below was a 20 meter drop. He was gonna choke the life out of him, and then drop him for good measure.
"You know what they say, Blaze. Pride cometh before the fall."
As Pride applied more pressure to Johnny's throat, the man's hand grabbed the shotgun and jerked it to the demon's face.
Uttering two most profound words in all of human language. Something not even the destruction of Babel could take away from us.
"Fuck. You." Johnny spat at Pride, who barely managed to parry with his arm as he pulled the trigger, unleashing the second shot of hellfire-loaded shotgun shell onto the demon, a loud explosion covered the two and Pride's grip on Johnny was loosened, he careened to the ground. A man beaten and broken, fire from his gun coming off him in ironic symbolism.
