Ch: 167 [Spirit of Vengence]
As the sound of the motorcycle echoed through the air, I turned my gaze towards the unexpected arrival. Emerging from the swirling darkness was a figure clad in a leather jacket, his skull engulfed in flames that danced with an otherworldly glow. It was none other than Ghost Rider, the Spirit of Vengeance.
I have heard about him. He rarely shows up. But to see the real thing from this close. It's just wow.
Ghost Rider's motorcycle was a marvel to behold. It seemed to defy the laws of physics as it glided through the air on trails of flickering flames. The bike itself appeared ethereal, with a sleek, black frame that gleamed with an otherworldly sheen. The tires were engulfed in roaring blue flames, leaving streaks of fire in their wake as they tore through the sky.
The motorcycle's design was both elegant and menacing, adorned with intricate patterns etched into the metal. The handlebars were fashioned like skeletal hands, gripping tightly as if guiding the fiery steed through the heavens. The exhaust pipes emitted plumes of smoke and sparks, adding to the overall spectral aura surrounding Ghost Rider and his ride.
As the motorcycle roared closer, the flames that engulfed Ghost Rider's skull intensified, casting an eerie light that revealed a visage of pure determination. He rode with an unmatched sense of purpose, his fiery gaze fixed on Deathstorm, who was still trapped in the nightmarish realm I had subjected him to.
[Hell Flame detected]
[Angelic Flame detected]
[Do not get in his way. Your flames are not strong enough to face him. It would be advised to back down for now.]
The System warned me. Well, I have no reason to stop him nor do I plan to do that.
*Weapon Master's Genetics*
Thanks to my skill, I was able to see the bare minimum infos about what he is doing.
He threw his chains with supernatural precision, each link coated in searing blue flames. The chains whirled through the air, striking with precision and accuracy. They wrapped around Deathstorm's skeletal form, binding him tightly and restricting any movement.
The moment the chains made contact, Deathstorm's agonized screams filled the air. The flames of Ghost Rider's chains were not just physical restraints; they carried the power of divine judgment and punishment.
He slammed Deathstorm down on the island and then he rode down. I followed behind and flew down.
As Ghost Rider descended upon the island, his motorcycle touched down with a resounding impact, leaving scorch marks on the ground. I followed suit, descending through the air, maintaining a safe distance as I observed the unfolding scene.
Deathstorm lay on the ground, his skeletal form weakened and vulnerable. The yellow flames that had enveloped him earlier flickered with diminished intensity, no longer radiating the same sense of malevolence they once did. His attempts to break free from the chains proved futile, as the divine flames of Ghost Rider's weapon held him firmly in place.
He dismounted his motorcycle, the flames engulfing his skull casting an ethereal glow across the area. He approached Deathstorm with a deliberate stride, his every movement exuding an air of supernatural power.
As Ghost Rider stood before Deathstorm, his fiery gaze locked onto the villain's skull. The Spirit of Vengeance spoke with a voice that resonated with an otherworldly echo, filled with righteous fury.
"My task is complete," Ghost Rider turned around and mounted his ethereal motorcycle. The flames surrounding his skull flickered with a sense of satisfaction, and the chains that had bound Deathstorm dissipated into the air.
Without uttering another word, Ghost Rider revved his motorcycle's engine, the sound reverberating through the island. With a burst of spectral flames, he accelerated into the sky, leaving behind a trail of smoke and glowing embers.
I watched in awe as Ghost Rider vanished into the distance, his presence a powerful reminder of the consequences that awaited those who embraced darkness and inflicted harm upon others.
With Deathstorm defeated and the island engulfed in an eerie silence. I looked around, everyone was just stunned.
"It's real!" Christie's voice broke the silence, "The Spirit of Vengence is real?"
I turned to Christie, who stood there with wide eyes, still processing the extraordinary events we had just witnessed. The impact of Ghost Rider's arrival and the subsequent defeat of Deathstorm left us both in awe.
"Yes, Christie," I replied, my voice filled with a mix of astonishment and reverence. "The Spirit of Vengeance is real. You saw it right?"
"It's as real as we are," Laira spoke, "So, think twice before killing an innocent."
Just when we thought it was all over, a sudden groaning noise gave us a jump scare.
Quick's dead body is standing before us. A hole in his head and his eyes were falling out of his skull. It was gross.
"Finally, that motherfucker of a demon left. Ahhh! Now, I can feast on these mortal's flesh and souls. And this body..." Johnny's body began to vibrate and his wounds started to heal rapidly, "Ahh! This power... To think mortals of this Earth can use such powers. But sadly, this bastard barely scratched the surface of this unimaginable power."
Sparks of red lightning started to gush out from his body.
"Daddy," Hina screamed, "That's a deadite."
*******
AN: I just remembered how Ghost Rider used to pop up out of nowhere and one shot the enemies. Here is a small scene for the Rider. He may appear later.
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