My first Ghost Rider fic. Please be nice and review (not flame), because if you don't then I will be sad and might go away and huddle in a corner, sharpening my friend's machete . . . Uh, I mean . . . Aw, whatever. There are two pairings in this. I was going off the basis that JB and GR were two different beings entirely, living in one body. And that maybe Johnny can't fully control and own Ghost Rider because he's too strong, but in the presence of someone (say ROXANNE) Johnny's emotions get the better of him and allow him a slim amount of rebellious control from Ghost Rider. There will be flashbacks from the movie, okay, to sort of confirm this and make you see my point, but I'm not giving away any of the juicy details, okay? And yes, there is an OC(s), and no, there is no yaoi.

The Reaping Hour

Prologue

The night was dark to begin with, but the incoming storm only made it blacker than pitch, occasionally lit by the stray lightning bolt zigzagging through the cloud-covered sky. The storm seemed to be alive, teeming with energy than was not natural or normal, even for a storm of this size. The clouds swirled together, gaining strength even as the funnel touched down to earth, kicking up a cloud of dust that only got sucked up in the whirling winds. The very earth trembled with the roar of the thunder and split as a rogue thunder bolt struck the dusty crust. Just as suddenly as the storm had come, it died away, leaving two bodies lying in its ruin.

The two men stood, cracking their slightly aching joints, stiff from disuse. Their nude bodies were stunningly beautiful, belying their fierce, dangerous strength. The man risen from the windstorm had long, dark dreadlocks that swirled together like the storm itself. His eyes were a stormy grey and he was well-muscled, built like a Greek god. The other who'd shot down with the lightning itself had short, spiked, platinum blond hair tingling with static electricity, and intense yellow eyes, alive with energy. Unlike the other man, he was tall and thin like the bolt he'd been born from. They sighted each other and growled a warning, low in their throats, their eyes flashing with the desire to tear each other's throats out.

"Chaos. Ruin." A voice boomed out of the darkness, seething with authority and sinful power. Both men turned to face the owner of that voice, eyes wild with malevolence. The elderly man strolled toward them at an easy pace, not rushing, biding his time. His dark clothes contrasted his grey hair, and his cane made a dull thud with each impact upon the dirt. "I thought you'd never awaken," he said, amused.

"Mephistopheles," the dreadlocked man growled, his voice booming with the power of the storm. The two men tensed, glaring daggers at the old man approaching, but he just smiled at them.

"Now, now, boys, no need to be hostile," Mephistopheles stated, "After all, is that any way to greet your creator?"

"Ten thousand years have passed, and we hid in the storm like cowards, awaiting your arrival, your orders," the lanky man said, his left hand twitching slightly. "And you show now?" He cocked his head to one side.

"I've use for you," Mephistopheles declared, "A job that only you can pull off."

"Why not get your favorite creation to pull it off?" the tornado-man demanded, sternly. "Your precious Rider? Or has he been chosen yet?"

Mephistopheles dark, brooding eyes flashed an angry amber. The two men shuddered but stood their ground. Mephistopheles calmed, staring coolly back at the man called Chaos, who'd asked the question. "Oh, of course he's been chosen. He's been riding for quite some time now. But, you see, not all of my creations are grateful to me for designing them. He's gone rogue."

The other man, called Ruin, laughed. "So much for the Devil's Bounty Hunter."

"You couldn't control the last Rider, either," Chaos stated, "What made you think to create a new one?"

Mephistopheles smirked and gestured around him. "Do you see anyone else with me?" He leaned in close to Ruin and whispered in his ear. "Blackheart has been destroyed."

"By your doing?" Ruin asked. At his creator's nod, he swept a hand through his spiked hair and laughed. "So, you got your Rider to pull it off for you . . . and now he's turned tail and fled." He flashed his eyes open with a fierce snarl. "Tell us where to find him."

"What do you want us to do?" Chaos asked.

"Bring back the Rider," Mephistopheles stated, "He goes by the name of Johnny Blaze, rides motorcycles for sport. He's abandoned that career and rides across the country, dispensing what he calls 'justice'. I want his powers back in my control."

Out of the blue, Ruin asked, "What became of the Hidden? Blackheart's followers . . ."

"My Rider took care of them before he destroyed my son," the Devil acknowledged. Chaos snarled, savagely, eyes alight with fury.

"My brother, Abigor-"

"Is gone now, and I am unable to bring him back, even if I so desired," Mephistopheles said, sternly, staring Chaos in the eye. "Right now, I don't care about him. I want my Rider back under my power. Find him, and . . ." He smirked. "Persuade him to return to me."

In a flash, the Devil was gone, and the two demons shot up into the boiling sky. As they left, the storm cleared and the night reigned, as though none of it ever happened.

So, what do you think? I do not own Ghost Rider, Johnny Blaze, Abigor, or Mephistopheles, but Chaos and Ruin are my creations. So you remember, Chaos is the Tornado, Ruin is the Lightning. Again, I was watching GR and the documentary Spirit of Vengeance. When they described the Hidden, they described them as "fallen angels once beautiful . . . retaining that beauty". I went with the same concept. As for the connection between Abigor and Chaos . . . Abigor was the wind demon, Chaos is the tornado. You do the math. I think I got Mephistopheles' personality on the dot. Chaos and Ruin were more predator than men, so they act like beasts.

Please review. Flames will be added to the Ghost Rider's weaponry and he may use it against you. Be careful.