Marvel: Ghost Rider

At the soccer field.

Melissa took a seat in the stands, folding her hands neatly on her lap and gazing into the distance. The green field, the children's shouts, the sound of the ball—it all reminded her of hell, only more organized.

Barbara, in her sports uniform, waved energetically as she said goodbye to her friends.

"What a heartwarming scene," Melissa muttered. "Everyone's happy. Except me."

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden whizz—a soccer ball was flying straight for her head.

Without flinching, Melissa raised her hand and caught the ball with perfect precision at the last second.

"At least my reflexes haven't failed me," she smirked, twirling the ball in her hand. "There's at least one professional on this field."

The coach immediately ran over—a young, athletic man with a dazzling smile that irritated her almost instantly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! That was an accident!" he blurted out, breathless from running.

Melissa gave him a measured look, raised an eyebrow slightly, and replied, "No problem. It happens."

She stood, adjusted her skirt, and with a light swing of her leg, sent the ball flying back across the field. It soared in a perfect arc and landed squarely in the goal.

The coach froze, staring at her with his mouth agape.

"Wow, that was incredible!" he finally said, regaining his composure. "You've got an amazing kick! Have you played soccer before?"

"I wouldn't say it was part of my past," Melissa replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Though yes, I am quite skilled with my feet."

The coach, clearly impressed, didn't give up.

"We're short a player on the team! Would you like to join?"

"Thank you for the offer," Melissa folded her arms, "but my life is fully devoted to serving family Blaze."

"Maybe just—" he began, trying to flirt.

"No," she interrupted, smiling in a way that made it clear he had no chance.

Internally, she cursed:

"Uniforms. An eternal magnet for humiliation. As if heels and a skirt weren't torture enough, they're also an invitation to conversation."

Barbara ran up to her, beaming. 

"That was an amazing goal!" The coach still stared after her in awe as they walked away.

Melissa said nothing.

The maid and the young mistress headed home together.

"So, 'great soccer star,'" Barbara teased, glancing at her, "did you just seduce our coach?"

"I did no such thing," Melissa retorted.

"Then why'd you score a goal straight into his heart?"

"I simply returned the ball," Melissa said coldly. "The coach just doesn't handle professionalism well."

"Sure," Barbara continued to tease, "too bad you didn't join the team. You in your maid uniform on the field would've been a sight!"

Melissa fell silent, taking a deep breath.

"You know, young lady," she said finally, with icy calm, "in hell, they deal with cheeky children… very strictly."

"But we're not in hell, are we?" Barbara replied cheerfully.

Melissa clenched her fists but said nothing. This day definitely needed to end as soon as possible.

When evening came, Johnny returned home wearing his father's old jacket. He looked as usual, but a searing aura radiated from him. Melissa instantly realized what had happened. She had witnessed hundreds of Ghost Riders being born, and she would never forget that feeling.

"The news showed an explosion in a residential building," Melissa said evenly, though a flicker of mockery danced in her amber eyes. "Witnesses claimed the fire formed into a giant skull. Firefighters think it was caused by reckless use of fireworks. Mr. Jonathan, you wouldn't happen to have passed by there, would you?"

Johnny stopped and looked at her. For a moment, a murderous glint flickered in his eyes, but it was soon replaced by his usual weary expression.

"You watch too much TV, Melissa," he said before heading to his room.

The corners of the demoness's lips curled into a faint smile. Finally, something interesting was happening in this picture-perfect family's house.

Before bed, Melissa closed Naomi's bedroom door with visible irritation, silently cursing the fate that had turned the Queen of Hell into… this. She adjusted the collar around her neck, which burned slightly against her skin, a constant reminder of the contract, and approached the armchair where Naomi was stretched out, enjoying stretch oneself like a cat after a long day.

"There's nothing better than a good massage," Naomi said with a smile.

Melissa silently approached, gracefully dropped to her knees in front of the chair, and took Naomi's feet in her hands.

"Of course," she began sarcastically. "What a pleasure it is to turn the Queen of Hell into a human and make her massage feet."

Naomi smirked.

"Oh, not just into a human, dear, but into a member of the Blaze family. You even have official documents to prove it. Being related to the police captain sped up the process considerably."

Melissa gritted her teeth.

"Are you serious? Official documents? And the Blaze name—the name of my captors? This is the pinnacle of humiliation!"

Naomi smiled sweetly.

"Did you know that my husband's colleagues teared up when they heard the touching story of how a poor girl escaped her dangerous, hot homeland and found refuge in our home?"

Melissa scowled but remained silent, her fingers continuing to expertly knead Naomi's feet.

"You're such a sadist," Melissa hissed, forcing the words through clenched teeth. "Who even makes someone wear these… dresses and heels every day?"

Naomi chuckled.

"Billions of women around the world wear them to work. It's nothing unusual."

"I am not a woman," Melissa shot back.

"No doctor would agree with you," Naomi replied calmly. "And you look adorable in the maid outfit. The kids love it."

Melissa, the former Princess of Nightmares, clenched her teeth so hard she almost heard them crack under the strain of her unbearable "cuteness."

"You know, those massage courses were a brilliant idea." Naomi sighed softly in pleasure as Melissa reached her heel. "You're getting better."

"Incredible observation," Melissa retorted dryly. "There's no room left in my room for diplomas. Massage, gardening, cooking, brewing tea… And for what hellish sorceress need with these human trivialities?"

"Labor turned apes into humans," Naomi quipped with a teasing smirk.

Melissa flared up.

"I am not an ape! I am a demoness!"

"Which is even worse," Naomi noted calmly, offering her other foot.

Melissa continued the massage in silence, mentally crafting a barrage of sharp remarks.

"Your son became a Ghost Rider today," she finally spat out.

"I know," Naomi said, her expression darkening slightly. "That concentrated burst of vengeance energy was felt across the magical world."

"You didn't want this fate for him, but it happened," the maid gloated. "What will you do now?"

"What's you like being a woman?" Naomi suddenly asked.

"I am above such primitive gender distinctions," Melissa declared proudly. "I was born long before God created humans for their rudimentary reproduction."

Naomi chuckled.

"Such a sarcastic answer fit who looks like a twenty-year-old girl."

Melissa snorted but didn't respond.

"Tell me, Mistress Naomi, how much longer will this punishment last?" the demoness asked, struggling to keep her emotions in check. "You've taken my name, my appearance, my power, and my purpose. Surely you've driven the dagger deep enough into my pride?"

Naomi stopped smiling. Her voice grew cold.

"And how many souls have you destroyed in your demonic lifetime?"

Melissa tensed.

"That's… irrelevant."

The collar flared with fire, making her flinch. She sighed heavily and quietly gave a number.

"More than the population of the United States," Naomi observed without breaking eye contact. "That's why your punishment won't end until you've atoned for all you've done."

Melissa seethed with fury. Her amber eyes flared with magic.

"My brothers will find me!" she finally snapped. "And they'll save me."

Naomi smirked.

"Oh, I'm sure your brothers are just as powerful as you. Just as cruel, just as incapable of love and compassion. Melissa, are you sure they won't tear you apart along with us when they see you so weak and helpless?"

The demoness opened her mouth but found no words. Her pride wouldn't let her back down, but Naomi's logic was merciless.

"Go to bed, Melissa Blaze," Naomi said at last, rising from her chair. "Tomorrow will be another hard day."

Melissa remained on the floor, burning with humiliation.

/////

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