Marvel: Ghost Rider

Johnny set the mirror aside, his expression thoughtful as he asked, "Cain lived millions of years ago. How did his blood end up in me?"

Melissa smiled, adjusting the lace on her dress.

"You can thank me for that, darling. Only through my painstaking efforts was this precious bloodline preserved."

"I know how biology works, how selective breeding operates," Johnny frowned, looking at Naomi. "Does that mean my father… is your blood relative?"

"A very distant relative!" she snapped, shooting a sharp look at Melissa. "It's not exactly pleasant to realize I met my future husband because of some vile manipulations."

"Manipulations?" Melissa repeated with feigned surprise. "Mistress Naomi, you got a loving husband, wonderful children, and a cozy shop. And yet, I'm still the villain? Where's the fairness in that?"

Naomi seemed ready to retort, but Johnny wasn't interested in witnessing their debate.

"Who are you, really?" he asked, locking eyes with Melissa's amber gaze.

Melissa turned to him, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Do I have to answer?" she asked, glancing at Naomi.

"Yes," Naomi said, activating the magical collar on Melissa's neck. A vengeful smile spread across Naomi's face. "Or you'll spend the weekend volunteering at a shelter full of screaming, smelly children."

"Punishing a helpless maid? My mistress, you are definitely a descendant of Cain," Melissa quipped. She turned back to Johnny and said, "I am the Serpent of Temptation. The very one from the Garden of Eden."

Johnny nodded, showing no surprise.

"And how did you end up like this?"

"After Adam and Eve were exiled, the Garden got boring," Melissa began, her voice lazy but with a fiery gleam in her eyes. "They were so… pathetic. I slithered out beyond the garden and saw the world. Humans were foolish but full of passion. They sold their souls for the most trivial pleasures. It was delightful. I quickly realized that souls were currency. The more you had, the higher your status." She smiled, adjusting the lace on her dress. "Over millennia, I climbed so high that my throne of bones shone brighter than the stars. I was a queen of one of Hell's circles, though it came at a price." She carelessly adjusted a curl of her hair. "Among demons, a feminine form isn't taken seriously enough. So, I decided that 'Mephisto, the great King of Hell,' sounded far more convincing. Demons are fools but easily swayed by appearances. Alas, now I must settle for a less fearsome image. But it's closer to my original nature."

"You're such an optimist, Melissa!" Naomi said with a grin.

"I wouldn't have become a queen of Hell if I didn't use every advantage," the maid replied proudly.

"Tell me about the Spirit of Vengeance," Johnny demanded, striving to keep his tone calm.

Melissa picked up the grimoire, her movements unusually graceful, as if she were handling something sacred rather than a mere book. Her hellish fingers slid over the skull-shaped clasp, which opened with a soft click.

"Only in your hands, huh?" Johnny muttered, watching the process.

"Naturally," Melissa replied with a hint of superiority. "This is my work, my story, and only I can unveil it."

Melissa opened the grimoire with a crackle, like the sound of burning wood. The parchment beneath her fingers shimmered with a strange light, almost as if it were alive. As she turned the page, a fiery skull illuminated the room, glowing so brightly it seemed to light up the entire warehouse.

Johnny froze, feeling something stir deep within his chest. The image was painfully familiar. He'd seen it just yesterday, when he had released that creature from the Cross of Vengeance, only to watch it fly into his throat, scorching his guts and soul alike.

"It's an endless fire," Melissa began, tracing her finger over the flaming skull. "Do you know emotions hold power? Joy, fear, anger... but the thirst for vengeance? That is the most burning desire of all. It creates a fire that cannot be extinguished. Millions of thoughts of revenge, hatred, and justice gave birth to something greater. They gave birth to him."

"Him?" Johnny clarified.

"Humans called him Zarathos," Melissa replied. "But that's just a name given by the ancients. In essence, he is the embodiment of an emotion—the most ferocious and destructive one."

Johnny frowned.

"Does he have a consciousness?"

"No," Naomi interjected firmly. "He has no reason, no logic. Zarathos is fire. He burns as long as there's fuel. He doesn't care who he consumes. He may push you to act, but he cannot speak or think. He doesn't deliberate—he just punishes, thoughtlessly and relentlessly."

She fell silent, then suddenly looked at Johnny intently.

"Do you, by any chance, remember what you used to say in your sleep ten years ago?"

Johnny met her gaze with a stone-cold expression.

"No," he answered curtly.

"What a pity," Melissa added sarcastically, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Witches are always so curious about children's prophecies."

Johnny ignored the comment, focusing instead on the grimoire. Flipping through the pages, he stopped at an illustration of a flaming skeleton holding a stone in one hand.

"Is this Cain?" he guessed, pointing at the drawing.

"Yes, the first Ghost Rider," Melissa nodded. "And in his hand is the stone he used to kill his brother—the symbol of humanity's first murder." Her lips curved into a pleased smile. "The artifact makes a fine addition to my collection."

"Tell me about Cain," Johnny said flatly.

"Cain and Zarathos were the greatest force, a symbiosis that even demons feared. Hell itself trembled before his flame. He was a warrior who burned away all that was unholy. But one day…" she paused, glancing at Johnny, "…one day, the Spirit left him."

"Why?" Johnny asked.

"Because the Spirit of Vengeance doesn't act based on logic—it follows its nature," Naomi explained. "It's drawn to vengeance. Zarathos felt a powerful emotion elsewhere and went to it."

"When the Spirit of Vengeance left Cain, he felt an emptiness consume him," Melissa added, as though she had been there. "It wasn't just the loss of power—it was betrayal. The Spirit, which had been a part of him, left without even saying goodbye. For Cain, it was worse than eternal damnation. And he sought revenge. Because revenge was all he knew."

Johnny felt a mix of awe and kinship. It was comforting to know his ancestor had been capable of defying gods.

"And what did he do?" Johnny asked.

/////

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