Marvel: Ghost Rider

After practice and half a day of classes, Johnny strode quickly through the school corridors. Luckily, Roxy wasn't around—she was busy with cheerleading practice. She was a good, kind girl, but her constant presence was starting to wear on him. Especially now, when he was tired of playing the role of the good guy. The darkness inside demanded to be unleashed, and in school, there was only one place to do that.

The tension in the disciplinary committee office thickened as Johnny entered. His cold, piercing gaze froze everyone in place, like soldiers awaiting orders from a general.

The corners of Johnny's lips lifted slightly. He remembered how it all started. When he transferred to high school, he himself requested that the principal establish a disciplinary committee. At first, he was the only member, and that suited him just fine. Naturally, his dark soul wasn't satisfied with the mundane duties of patrolling hallways. From the first day he wore the badge, Johnny headed straight to the lairs of the school's bullies.

There, he indulged his darker passions fully: beating up thugs daily and bringing order to chaos were the highlights of his high school life.

Sometimes it hurt, and he had to lie to his parents, claiming fresh bruises were from boxing practice. But the victories far outweighed the defeat—daily training and military strategies ensured the success of his missions.

Within six months, Johnny had won the school war against bullies. No one dared sell contraband in the parking lot anymore; everyone was polite in the hallways, and the bathrooms were used solely for their intended purposes.

Defeated bullies wiped their bloody noses and left school to make a living on the streets. Those who had nowhere else to go ended up following Johnny. They joined the disciplinary committee, patrolling the hallways, and spent their free time boxing under his guidance. If they could follow him home, they probably would.

Now, as Johnny looked at his former foes, he felt an unpleasant pang of responsibility, like stray puppies clinging to him on the street. He hadn't invited them, and their company annoyed him, but kicking them aside wouldn't feel right either.

"I just wanted to let out my darkness and knock a few teeth out of some thugs," Johnny mentally grumbled. "Stop seeing me as some spotless knight of justice!"

"All clear, boss!" reported the self-proclaimed deputy, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "It's Sam's turn to patrol the sixth sector, but I can join him to boost efficiency!"

Johnny glanced at the deputy's eager face and then at the wall with the school map, divided into perfectly organized sectors. Below each sector were the names of the responsible patrols, all of whom dutifully performed their roles.

"How?" Johnny inwardly groaned. "How did a simple desire to beat up some bad guys without getting expelled turn into a system of perfect order?"

"Any incidents?" he asked, lacing his fingers together.

The deputy's smile widened to an almost obscene degree, his eyes gleaming with happiness, like a child showing off a perfect report card to their dad. Damn it.

"Twenty days without incidents!" the deputy exclaimed proudly. "Under the committee's watch, the school's discipline is flawless!"

"Nothing at all?" Johnny's voice carried a hint of despair. "Not even a single swear word scribbled in the bathroom?"

"After you broke Steve's fingers, no one dares bring a marker into the bathroom anymore."

Johnny mentally cursed when he saw Steve's name listed under bathroom patrol. Now Steve was a committee member, diligently guarding against rogue artists.

"Well," the deputy began hesitantly, noticing the faint disappointment in Johnny's eyes, "there was one thing this morning."

"Go on." Johnny's tone perked up slightly.

"Some punks showed up in the parking lot. Blared music, drank beer, harassed the cheerleaders."

"Who were they? Where can I find them?"

"They weren't from our school," the deputy shrugged. "They came to see one of our students—some scrawny kid with glasses. Talked to him for a bit and then left."

"Even so, they're criminals who trespassed on school grounds. Looks like our committee needs to expand its jurisdiction." Johnny's voice was cold, but inside, he felt the darkness within him begin to stir. "Find that student and bring him to me."

///

The hallway outside the disciplinary committee office was quiet. Only the occasional footsteps of students echoed, but no one dared linger nearby. Johnny Blaze's office, the committee leader, inspired both respect and fear. Nobody wanted to accidentally run into him or his subordinates.

Timanath Promrat, or just Tim, stood across from the door, nervously fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt. His breathing quickened, and his palms were clammy. He didn't know why he'd been summoned, but he had a hunch.

The rumors about Johnny had spread through the school long ago. To most, he was a savior who had restored order. To his enemies, he was a shadow of terror hidden beneath the mask of the perfect student.

"The Demon," Tim recalled the whispers in the hallways. That was what they called Johnny—those who had glimpsed his true nature.

Once, the disciplinary committee was just a pipe dream for losers. Then Blaze came along and swiftly imposed his rules. Most of the committee members now looked like a gang of bouncers: neatly pressed school uniforms paired with scarred faces, broken noses, tattoos, and piercings. The rumor was that Johnny hadn't reformed the bullies but had forcibly recruited them into his own gang.

Tim flinched when he spotted one of them standing by the door. The guy lazily toyed with a pocketknife, but his eyes never left Tim.

"He's going to eat me alive," Tim thought, swallowing hard.

"You Promrat?" the bouncer growled, looking up from the knife.

Tim nodded silently.

"The boss is waiting for you," he said, jerking his head toward the door. "But to you, he's Mr. Blaze. Show him some respect."

The bouncer ran a hand over the scar above his eyebrow—a silent warning about what happened to those who didn't.

Summoning all his courage, Tim pushed the door open and stepped inside.

/////

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