10 advanced chapters on P@treon.com/Saintbarbido.
-0-
(General P.O.V)
Gotham Capes Forum - 3:37 AM
User: BatFan123
> Did anyone else see the burning truck downtown tonight? Managed to snap this pic. Who is this guy? Looks like something straight out of a horror movie. Or hell.
[Attached Image: A flaming truck with a skeletal figure at the wheel, its head ablaze with hellfire.
User: NightWingedAvenger
> Whoa, that's intense! Look at those tire tracks on the asphalt. They're completely scorched.
User: CatAndMouse
> Holy crap, that's terrifying! I don't know if I should be excited or scared. Is this guy a hero or a villain.
User: GothamKnight
> Heard from a friend in the GCPD. They're calling him the Ghost Rider. Apparently, he's already taken out some of Two-Face's crew. Only one survivor, and he was told to send a message to Two-Face: "The Rider is coming for him.
User: HarlequinDream
> A new vigilante in Gotham? I think it's awesome! The more people standing up to the scum here, the better.
User: ArkhamArchivist
> Am I the only one who thinks this could be bad news? We don't need another unpredictable element in the mix. This "Ghost Rider" sounds like he's out for blood.
User: BatFan123
> Reward time, folks! I'm putting up $10,000 for any verifiable information on this Ghost Rider. I want to know who or what we're dealing with here.
User: FlameOn
> Look at the details, though. This guy isn't just out there for show. Those flames are real. We're talking supernatural level stuff yo.
User: Joker'sWild
> This is Gotham. Crazy is the norm. I'm in the camp that says let him do his thing. If he's after Two-Face, good riddance.
User: MaskedAvenger
> @GothamKnight: Any more details from your cop friend? How did this Ghost Rider take down Two-Face's men?
User: GothamKnight
> @MaskedAvenger: Not much else. Just that the survivor was in shock when he woke up, babbling about a flaming skull and chains. Sounds like a real nightmare.
User: TwoFace'sLuck
> As if a burning skull is going to scare us. When this freak shows his bone head, Two-Face will put a bullet right through it. This Ghost Rider guy's days are numbered
User: BurnNotice
> @TwoFace'sLuck: Bold words. We'll see how well they hold up when you're facing him. Something tells me bullets won't be enough.
User: TheVengeful
> This Ghost Rider is exactly what Gotham needs. Someone who isn't afraid to do what Batman won't. Let the criminals fear the fire.
User: ArkhamInmate
> @TheVengeful: And what happens when he turns on the rest of us? What if he decides we're all guilty in some way? Where does it end?
User: DarkKnightRises
> The city needs protectors, not more chaos. But I can't deny... those flames. This Ghost Rider could be something we've never seen before.
User: BatFan123
> Keep the info coming, folks. We need to figure this out fast. The stakes are high, and Gotham doesn't wait for anyone.
The online community continued to buzz with heated debates and wild theories.
The Rider's appearance had ignited Gotham's interest, filling the streets with equal parts hope and fear.
Through it all, one thing was clear: the Ghost Rider had made his vengeful entrance, and as a result, Gotham was never going to be the same again.
-1 week later-
-The Gotham Hospital-
(General P.O.V)
Down the hall on the same floor where Michael's room was located, was a special patient's room used to host mostly VIPs.
Detective Gordon flashed his badge at the security guard outside and walked in.
The room was big, containing a large bed, a couch, fridge and a wide view of Gotham City. There were 4 people inside including the Patient, a comatose Bruce Wayne.
"How's he doing Doc?"
Gordon asked.
The doctor in the room shook his head and left without a word.
"He's...helpful."
The detective commented at his retreating form.
"Only as far as science can take him. This...is something else."
A man in a magician's outfit:- A tuxedo and top hat, said. He was holding a pocket watch above Bruce's sleeping form.
"Giovanni Zatara."
Gordon recognized him.
"Things must be bad if you're here. Worse if I include your friend."
He added, motioning to the tall and imposing form of a green martian sitting on the couch.
"Oh don't mind Manhunter. He's in a mental trance right now, trying to work out what's wrong with our mutual friend's mind."
Zatara explained.
"A bad case of burning skeleton is my guess."
Gordon muttered, turning to Alfred, who was silent on the bedside.
"Sorry Alfred, I tried to stop him from going after Ghost Rider."
Alfred shook his head.
"No apologies necessary. We all know how he is Detective. Stubborn to a fault."
Despite the calm words, worry lined the Butler's forehead.
"He'll wake up sooner or later, just leave it to J'onn and I."
Zatara assured.
"Speaking of this Ghost Rider detective, what can you tell me about him."
The Magician asked.
Gordon reached into his pocket and brought out a Flash Drive which he proceeded to throw at Zatara.
"Figured the League would be interested. Just be careful, something tells me he might be too much for one or two of you."
Zatara nodded at the grave warning.
"Duly noted, Detective."
With that, Gordon left.
-0-
The door to Michael's room opened, and Gordon walked in...only to find it empty.
"Hey, excuse me,"
He turned to a nurse passing by,
"What happened to the patient that was in here?"
"Michael Hawthorn? He was discharged this morning."
She responded.
"With his injuries? How did he even make it out of the room with two broken limbs?"
Gordon was confused. It had only been a week since the Joker Incident. Logic dictates Michael should have been hospitalized longer.
"A short haired woman came for him."
The nurse replied, leaving Gordon at the door to the empty room.
(Michael's P.O.V)
"Don't look so glum. Smile a little. She would have wanted that."
Selina said, trying to cheer me up.
And while I appreciated the sentiment, she didn't understand. People smile when they're happy. My happiness was gone.
The only time I was going to be smiling was when I was stomping on Joker's brains. The Rider within me, surged outwards at my rage-filled thoughts.
'Not Now. You will have your vengeance soon.'
I slammed the door shut, shoving the Spirit deep down before it could leer it's head.
The ride continued on without us talking much. I looked through the window to pass the time before we arrived at my house.
Graffiti covered most of the buildings on the street. Shops were boarded up and many places closed. Everyone walking did so with a fast pace.
And in the shadows of alleys, Beggars and Junkies huddled in groups.
Gotham had never been a great place. But now, it seemed even gloomier. Like a wasteland where only weeds could grow. I hated it almost as much as I hated the Clown.
My wife was born and raised here- she always believed the city would change. She was the reason I gave it a chance. The reason I even applied for a job at Wayne Enterprises. The reason I settled down.
I was wrong. And maybe she was too.
"How's the leg? And the hand too. "
Selina asked, throwing me a side glance.
"Fine. Doctor says I'll need a couple months to recover. I'll be using crutches until then."
I lied without looking her way.
Selina was sharp enough to read me and figure out I wasn't telling the whole truth. She was my Wife's friend from College. And by extension, had become mine as well. We even made her Emily's Godmother. A good person. An even better friend.
"How's the Bar?"
I asked, hoping to steer the subject away from me.
"Exhausting."
She sighed,
"It's jam-packed every night. I'm thinking of renting out more space and renovating the basement. Maybe turn it to a nightclub."
"Mmh, so business is good. That's nice."
I commented.
She owned a bar called 'The Tin Roof Club' at the rougher parts of town. Despite, or rather, inspire of the prevalent crime activities around the premise, her club was recognized as a neutral zone.
Anyone that dared cause trouble ended up with broken bones and a fast ticket to the GCPD. Oh, and they would be permanently banned from entry. Selina had connections and knew how to use them. My wife called her the 'Baddest woman in Gotham.'
I personally had no counter-opinion. Selina Kyle was hot as fuck and knew how to kick ass.
The 30 minute ride came to a stop in front of a nice establishment on a clean street. I leaned close to the windshield to get a view of where were.
A sign above the building read, 'Tin Roof Club.' I should have guessed.
I turned to Selina with a frown,
"I thought you were taking me home?"
"In your banged up condition?"
She scoffed, opening the door,
"Sarah would kill me. Come on, you'll stay here for a few weeks where I'll look after you until you can wipe your own ass."
"I can..."
My statement was cut off by the door banging close. My eyes followed her figure as she walked around the car to my side and opened mine.
"Just bear with me Mike. I need to do this. For you and more importantly, for Sarah. Besides, are you in a position to refuse my help?"
She asked, pointedly staring at my cast limbs.
'Yes. Because I don't want to drag you in my mess...'
Is what I wanted to say. But instead, she won me over with the vulnerability in her eyes.
She loved my family too. I wasn't the only one to lose. This was her way of trying to deal with the pain. This bit of understanding someone's emotions felt like a pseudo-ability from the Rider.
"Get my crutches."
I told her with a resigned sigh.
The smile she sent my way was a light in the ever present darkness.
Now that I recall, My wife and Selina had something back in college. Sarah had even suggested a three-way.
I could certainly see why.