Marvel: Ghost Rider

Johnny stepped inside and nearly froze in place. Shelves of black wood towered up to the ceiling, creating the impression of a labyrinth. Each section had a sign: Vampires, Werewolves, Demons. People milled about, and every corner of the store seemed alive. Quiet whispers and the rustling of pages echoed throughout. The air smelled of sandalwood, candles, and something reminiscent of aged paper.

"Is Stephen King releasing a new book?" Johnny nodded toward the crowd of customers.

"This is normal for us," Naomi shrugged. "The store attracts anyone interested in the mystical and the macabre."

Johnny said nothing, his eyes scanning the room. Behind the counter stood a woman in a long moss-green dress, a crown of dried leaves resting on her head. She smiled warmly at each customer, ringing up purchases with professional precision. A girl with black wings and a tail moved gracefully between the shelves.

"Is that Jen and Sarah?" Johnny squinted, barely recognizing his mother's friends.

"Who else would it be?" Naomi grinned. "We're all about creating an atmosphere here, and they're professionals at it. By the way, I've got my own vampire queen costume in the closet."

"Makes sense," Johnny said simply.

"With this crew, you might as well rename the shop The Witches' Trio," Melissa commented, adjusting her apron.

"With your talent for injecting venom into every remark, you'd fit right in," Naomi retorted.

"Then I demand a cut of the profits," Melissa replied, unfazed.

Naomi chuckled but didn't continue the banter. Instead, she waved at Jen and Sarah in greeting. Jen, in her witch costume, nodded cheerfully, while Sarah, her wings flaring slightly, continued explaining something to a customer.

"Girls, hold down the fort a bit longer," Naomi said. "I've got some family business."

She turned to Johnny and Melissa.

"Follow me."

Naomi led them through the store to a back door, which opened to a storage room. Boxes of books were stacked neatly but tightly, forming small walls. Naomi walked to a far corner, moved one of the shelves aside, and pulled out a dusty cardboard box covered in cobwebs.

"You keep it in a box?" Melissa raised an eyebrow. "The grimoire that sorcerers would kill each other for is stashed away like a yard sale trinket?"

"It does less harm here than in the hands of those who used it before," Naomi replied calmly, wiping the cobwebs from the box.

"What are you talking about?" Johnny asked, narrowing his eyes.

Naomi smirked.

"We're in a bookstore, son. Of course, I'm talking about a book."

She opened the box and carefully pulled out the grimoire. The book was sinister in appearance. Its white leather cover gleamed faintly, and the clasp, shaped like a skull, seemed to glare directly at Johnny.

"And what is this?" he asked evenly, though he felt the searing heat of the Spirit of Vengeance stirring within him.

Melissa crossed her arms, her lips curling into a devilish smile.

"The magnum opus of my life," she replied with relish. "The true history of the Ghost Riders."

Johnny reached for the clasp, but Naomi placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Don't."

"Why not?" Johnny narrowed his eyes.

Melissa smirked.

"Try to unlock it, and you'll be torn apart by a biblical golem. A small precaution to keep strangers from pawing my property." She ran her fingers over the cover. "The leather from the scapegoat. Pure biblical symbolism. Perfect for a treatise on vengeance." She tapped the skull-shaped clasp with pride. "Made from the jawbone of Samson. You'd be surprised how much symbolism can fit into one book."

"Maybe had enough bragging?" Naomi asked, crossing her arms.

"My mistress," Melissa replied calmly. "Surely I'm entitled to some self-expression. When else will I have the chance to enlighten Master Jonathan about the history of his lineage?"

"Johnny," Naomi said softly, drawing his attention. "Do you remember the biblical story of Cain?"

"Of course," he nodded. "Cain killed Abel because he was jealous that God accepted his brother's offering but rejected his. After that, God cursed him to wander the earth."

Naomi shook her head.

"That's the distorted version. The story has been twisted over time, as it always is. The truth is different."

Johnny raised an eyebrow.

"And what's the truth?"

"Cain didn't kill Abel out of jealousy," she said, her voice lowering and taking on an unusual depth. "He did it to avenger at God. He attacked where it hurt most—His favorite. It wasn't just murder; it was defiance. Cain became the first avenger on Earth."

"And that attracted…" Johnny began, but his mother cut him off.

"The Spirit of Vengeance. Cain was cursed, but that curse made him the perfect vessel. They became the ideal pair. Thus, the first Ghost Rider was born."

For a moment, silence filled the room.

"We're Cain's descendants?" Johnny asked, his tone steady as always.

Naomi lowered her gaze for a moment, then nodded quietly.

"His curse runs in our blood."

"Don't be so dramatic, my mistress," Melissa's voice suddenly interjected. She was sitting on a stack of boxes, a faint smile on her lips. "Cursed blood gives its bearers incredible advantages."

"Like what?" Johnny asked.

"Unnatural endurance, exceptional willpower, an increased tolerance for pain, and an innate drive for vengeance," Melissa began listing, looking at him as though observing a successful experiment. "It's no surprise most of Cain's descendants end up in law enforcement."

"That explains my role on the disciplinary committee," he said aloud, then turned to his mother. "What about you? Do you have these traits?"

Naomi opened her mouth to respond, but Melissa interrupted with a loud scoff.

"Mistress Naomi is merely a half-blood. You, on the other hand, young master, are the embodiment of the purest lineage."

Melissa stepped closer and held out a mirror, her amber eyes gleaming.

"There's one way to prove it."

"And what am I supposed to see?" he asked, holding the mirror.

Melissa took out a candle, lit it, and brought it near his face.

Johnny looked into the mirror, and in his pupils, a fiery skull blazed—the Spirit locked in its human cage.

"Unmasked," he said firmly, like a soldier. "I'll have to avoid candles."

"Smart boy," Melissa approved.

/////

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