Ghost Rider belongs to Marvel.

Outside of a convenience store in southern Kansas, a thug was pointing a gun at a late night teenage shopper.

"Take it! Take it!" The blond kid fell on his on his butt in front of his pickup truck. He pissed his pants as he threw his wallet at the thug.

The trench-coat clad man was an intimidating figure. He had a scar over his left eye and heavy stubble. He picked up the wallet and fingered through the money in it—a Washington and a Jackson.

"This ain't enough." He threw the wallet back at the boy, hitting him on the head.

"It's all I've got on me." The kid walked on his hands until he felt the hard metal of pickup against his back.

"You…guilty."

The thug turned around to see a man whose head looked like a flaming skull. A demon from hell? Victim and assailant alike went as white as the demon's skull.

"Huh…uhh..hhuhh" the boy stammered in terror. Before he could fully register what had happened, the attacker jerked him to his feet and started firing at the skeleton. The bullets hit the demon, forcing him to slow down and jerk a shoulder back with each hit. It did not look like it hurt him at all. The skeleton removed a chain that was wrapped around his shoulder. He held the chain near one end in his left hand and slid his right down its length. This caused it to glow red, as if it were being heated. Heat surged from each of the demon's fists meeting in the center. Within seconds the chain was so hot the steam rose from it. The demon then flung it. The chain was hot, but it was still hard. The incredible heat though, melted flesh and bone. It cleaved through both the thug and boy's legs like a sword, splitting them at the knees. The most intense pain the boy had ever felt in his life burned now in his legs. He rolled onto his side and pulled his legs closer to him.

"Aghaaw!"

Such intense pain blurred his perception of anything else around him. The only thing other than pain on his mind was fear—fear of what the skeleton demon would do next. The pain got worse as the being picked up the thug. The boy wished that the demon would kill him first so that he would not have to dread his fate or suffer any longer. What he heard the creature say to the thug only made his pain and fear intensify more.

"Look into my eyes. Your soul is tainted by the blood of the innocent. Feel their pain!"

The boy closed his eyes. After seconds that seemed like minutes to his searing legs, he heard a thud. He dared to look and saw the thug lying on the concrete. The demon got on a bicycle and drove off into the night. Relief flooded the boy. That creature had just saved his life—but he would never be able to walk again.

What happened?

"You DIDN'T do it. I did."

The voice caught Johnny off guard. It was what his voice sounded like as the Ghost Rider- one low, gravely voice speaking at the same time as several high pitched voices. He looked at the mirror. He had not transformed, but there, instead of his human reflection, was the Ghost Rider. Johnny had been expecting something like this to happen.

"You're the demon possessing me!"

"Wow! How did you know? I'm impressed. No wonder you graduated from high school," the demon said sarcastically.

"Why did you hurt that kid?" Johnny was the host and he was going to lay down some ground rules about hurting the innocent.

"We had a guilty soul to collect, and the kid was in the way. Our objective is 'punish the guilty,' not 'protect the innocent.' If they are being assaulted by the guilty soul we're after, then good for them if they get away. If they're being used a shield and are in our way, then too bad!"

Johnny reminded himself that he shouldn't be surprised. This demon did come from hell after all.

"You don't work for Mephistopheles anymore, so it's time you let go of his messed up morality."

What the demon screamed next was shocking.

"You fool! I never willingly worked for him. He may tell you that he is the great Satan himself, but he is really just one demon lord among many! I was once his greatest rival! I am Zarathos, the Lord of Darkness!"

Johnny was possessed by a powerful "Lord of Darkness"? He was under the impression that Ghost Rider was just an extension of Mephistopheles that could be bent to its host's will. Wasn't that what Carter Slade had done? Zarathos sensed Johnny's thoughts and answered.

"After Slade stole the contract of San Venganza, Mephistopheles punished him by removing me but letting him keep some of my powers. My energies extended his lifespan far beyond what a human SHOULD live. 150 years of no friends, no family, no love is a hard punishment. Of course, being bonded to one uncouth, mentally challenged mortal after another for thousands of years is even worse! I was once a demonic ruler, and now I am nothing but a pawn!"

Zarathos's flames rose in the mirror with his voice. His reflection raised a hand and struck. Johnny half expected the glass to break. Zarathos breathed heavily for a moment, then steadied himself. He tilted his head.

"That's where you come in, Jonathon. Since you had not broken your contract, Mephistopheles couldn't punish you—and you choose to keep me."

"Believe me, I wish I didn't," Johnny said. In reality though, he still believed that he could use Zarathos's power for good.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Johnny. You've freed me from Mephistopheles and given me a host that is so much fun to manipulate." Zarathos's tone mocked friendly consolation.

"You're not going to manipulate me." Johnny said. "I kept you so I could use your power to help people." He closed his eyes and remembered the boy that he had slung his chain against.

"I'd say I've already manipulated you. I see everything that passes through your mind. Your regrets about the deal and what Blackheart did to Mac, when you had to give up Roxy—you should really do something physical with her and let me take control," Zarathos said lecherously. It disgusted Johnny.

"Leave her alone." He said coldly.

"Don't worry yourself too much about that, Blaze. You've run away from her. Besides, I'm bounded to you. Everything you do, I know. If you ever did anything with her, I'd know anyway."

That did not comfort him in the slightest. Johnny cringed, noticeably. Zarathos chuckled.

"And, of course, there's your greatest sin."

"Selling my soul?"

"No," Zarathos shook his head. There was a slight hint of laughter in his voice."The reason you did it."

This made Johnny lock his eyes with Zarathos.

"I did it to save my father!" What could possibly be wrong with trying to save someone's life?

"You wanted to play God, control someone's life and death." Zarathos said.

Johnny wanted to protest this, but he realized that it was true.

"If it is wrong to kill someone before their time, than it is also wrong to try to keep them alive after their time. You wanted to deny your father the time that he was given to rest. I know your heart. You can forget about morals."

Johnny brought his hands to his ears, but nothing could drown out Zarathos's mocking laughter.

I am your soul now, Johnny Blaze!"