Ghost Rider.

Summary:

Spontaneously combusting at night does not sound like a teenage girl's regular night out. Becoming Hell's bounty hunter, adopted, and wanted dead by the bounty was not what I would call 'normal'.


Chapter One.

The streets had never been so quiet. Ten o'clock at night in Texas, and no one was screaming bloody murder. If I had been going to sleep, I guess I should have been grateful for the peace and quiet. But you don't sleep if you're an insomniac, right?

I'd lived on my own ever since I'd turned thirteen. Lived in a little apartment that housed a bike for when I needed to travel anywhere, had a bed, a small kitchen, a decent bathroom, and I paid rent on time. I was in general, a good kid. So who could blame a girl from walking out on her abusive parents at the age of thirteen? They were too drunk at the time to even remember to go looking for me, and when they realised I had gone, they filed out the paper work to say that I had been disowned. How nice of them. But it kind of worked out in my favour.

So ten o'clock on a Friday night, I was walking home in the torrential downpour from where I worked as a waitress at the bar two blocks down the road from where I lived. I didn't mind the weather so much, and as for the work…well…I couldn't complain. It was decent work, good pay. Basically enough to help me get by. I'd left the bike at home since I felt that I needed to actually get in some exercise. But it was only two blocks. Not too far away from where I could get home, go to the bathroom clean the cuts on my face and make sure there was no glass left in them.

I reached for my keys and irritably shoved them into the lock, opening the door as I cursed my boss with venom. "I could have taken that son of a bitch if he hadn't intervened to throw him out. Bet it's cause I'm a girl. That bastard." I said angrily, slamming the door behind me and throwing my keys onto a coffee table in the middle of the main room before stalking over to the bathroom.

Staring at myself in the mirror, it wasn't as bad as I thought it could have looked like, but it still hurt. There was a long scratch down the left side of my face, and when I poked it to test, it started to bleed again.

"Shit." I cursed, wincing as the pain shot through my face like a raw nerve being tweaked under the surface of my skin. Grabbing a wad of toilet paper, I wetted it under the cold tap and gently pressed it to the side of my face, hissing as it came into contact with the cut. Soon it faded to a dull ache, and the cool paper felt like heaven on my hot, sweaty, clammy face.

I jumped as a harsh, yet polite knocking sounded at the front door, and I peered around the bathroom door to glare at it. "Martin, if that's you asking for the bloody rent, piss off. I'll give it to you tomorrow morning." I shouted, hoping that Martin wasn't braving the weather just to get the measly rent off of me. It had already drenched my long black hair, which I was currently tying back into a high pony-tail before re-placing the tissue back over the cut.

However, the knocking continued, and if anything it got louder. Muttering darkly to myself, I threw the bathroom door shut and stormed over to the door. With a heave, I flung the door open, and rainwater streamed in. A figure was standing outside the door, dressed all in black and with a black umbrella over him to keep the rain off.

"GET IN HERE." I shouted over the howling wind, gesturing with my one free hand for him to get in.

I was a grouch, but I wasn't going to question someone in a torrential downpour. For the most part, my apartment would get drenched, and Martin would kill me. Or at least double my rent.

The figure seemed to have heard me at any rate, and he closed his umbrella and gracefully stepped inside. Strangely, as soon as he took as step inside, both he and his umbrella seemed to dry off instantly. As though the water had just…evaporated. I dismissed it, thinking it unimportant.

"What do you want." I asked as I closed the door, knowing I was being slightly rude.

The man in front of me merely raised an amused eyebrow. "I think the saying is, 'would you like a cup of tea or coffee'." He said.

I stared at him. "I've already worked as a waitress tonight. You want some coffee, go get it yourself. The kitchen's through there. Now, what do you want?" I stated.

The man chuckled dangerously, but nevertheless, he flicked his hand at the kettle that was in the kitchen and at my cupboard, turning the kettle on and letting a cup fly from the cupboard to rest on the worktop in readiness as he carefully spooned a spoonful of coffee into the cup with the spoon found in one of the drawers. Taking the boiled kettle, he poured it into the cup and replaced it, picking up his cup instead.

"You want milk or sugar with that?" I asked, slightly mollified by what I had just witnessed.

He shook his head politely, a cruel smile on his lips. "No, thank you. I prefer black coffee. I feel it represents a part of me…black…and bitter." He said, sipping from the steaming cup in his hand and leaning on his skull-topped cane with the other.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest as I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously.

"Don't you read the bible or any of the religious teachings?" He asked me.

"You didn't answer my question." I said bluntly.

"But I'm helping you towards the answer." He replied coolly.

That one made me shut up.

"I've never read anything religious, and I never intend to." I said after a long exaggerated sigh.

The man tutted, and his fingers tapped rhythmically against his cane. "Would you be interested in making a deal?" He asked suddenly.

I laughed for a second, wincing as it re-opened the cut, making me press the wad of tissue harder onto it to stem the bleeding. "What deal? A deal with the Devil?" I asked jokingly.

His face remained impassive for a second, but he slowly started to smile. "You don't know how right you are my dear Kira." He said. I don't know why, but what he said made me feel queasy, and it disturbed me that he knew my name…My smile faded as I suddenly put two and two together.

"You're the Devil." I said disbelievingly.

"Why Kira…Of course. You may call me Mephistopheles. Did you not see a more useful example of power not moments ago?" He asked, raising his cup of coffee to me in a half-salute as he took another sip.

I blinked. Well…no one can really just dry themselves off as they walk in from a torrential downpour…or move things without touching them. "Prove it." I said. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Prove you're the devil. I don't know…uh…set my curtain on fire." I said gesturing to said small curtain which hung over a small window that looked out over the street.

He slowly turned his head towards the curtain, and I tensed, wondering…

That was when my curtain burst into flames. "OH MY GOD, OK. OK. I BELIEVE YOU. STOP." I yelled rushing over to the curtain as the flames cut out at my screams. "Jeez Dumbledore…" I muttered, patting the smoking remains of my curtain tentatively.

"Do not compare me to a fantasy tale, girl." Mephistopheles snarled.

I held up my hands defensively. "Ok…Ok…Whatever." I said, backing away from my curtain as I walked back over to stand in front of him. "So…What kind of deal is this then?"

"To put it in basic terms, you will work for me to return those who have escaped from Hell." The devil said.

I raised my eyebrow. "So what, I'm your…bounty hunter. As it were."

"If that is how you wish to see it, then yes…A bounty hunter. One of formidable power." He said flatteringly.

I rolled my eyes. "Look, I may be a vicious bitch to people sometimes, and that I pack a pretty good punch, but I'm just a sixteen year-old girl. I don't go around…kicking bad guy's asses."

"Oh but you will…and at sixteen with nothing much to do in your life…no ties at all…I think you'll settle into this job nicely. Not to mention you'll have a long life of which to get used to it." He goaded silkily, extending a small scroll out to me. "I think that cut out the side of your face will do just fine for the signing."

I gaped at him. "You want me to sign in blood?" I asked incredulously.

"Just a drop will do, my dear. It's your soul that you're giving to me…" He said charmingly, making me shiver internally. "Besides…If not, I can always force you to do it. I am in need of someone to fill this post after all."

Gritting my teeth in anger, I threw the bloodied tissue in the bin and pawed at the graze on my cheek, making it bleed properly for the third time that night. He held the unrolled scroll out to me, and a drop of blood dripped down my cheek like a tear, before releasing itself from my chin and splattering down onto the signature line.

"That's lovely…" He crooned, rolling the scroll up again and placing it inside his jacket professionally. I had to give him credit for that. The move was almost movie style.

"So when do I start?" I asked him as I felt the air drop a degree or two, making me draw the zip up on my beloved black hoodie and shove my hands in my jeans pockets.

He looked like he was pondering it for a second. "Let's say…tomorrow." He said, staring at me as his right index finger caught me full in the chest just below the neck where the centre of the breastplate was beneath my skin.

If I could have screamed, I would have. The heat was so intense, I thought it was going to burn me up. I felt flames running through my veins and turn them into molten lava that ran the length of my veins and artery networks. My nerves too. It overpowered almost every cell of my body, making me feel as though I was on fire. If I had screamed, I was sure that I could have done something cool, like breath fire, like some kind of dragon, but to be honest I was immersed in white hot pain that was burning me from the inside out.

Then all of a sudden, like the flick of a switch, it stopped. Just like that. Leaving me feeling like the glowing embers of a recently put out fire. I sank to my knees, and blearily opened my eyes as though for the first time, to find that the man had gone, leaving one of my post-stick notes in the floor in front of me.

I only just had time to read it before I passed out and fell on top of it.

'Bring back the Hidden.'


Woo! This is different, never done a 'Ghost Rider' fic before…it's rather exciting. XD

Please review! ^_^ Next chapter coming soon.

MugiwaraAkagamiKaizoku

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