New York City

Karen bit her lip, straining painfully as she glared at her last class's bell. Five minutes until the end of the school day and she could get back home. Today was the BIG DAY. Her teacher droned on and on as the rest of the class either nodded off or was texting. Karen was sitting in the furthest seat from the head of the class, but closest to the second door, an escape route if anything weird ever happened. But all of her focus was on the classroom's clock.

Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on... Karen thought as she tried to focus her relatively new powers. Karen had almost a month earlier, discovered that she gained super powers, the power to change the probability of anything she focused on. She had been practicing her powers every day as much as she could, but it seemed she wasn't improving at all. For every success, there were roughly 13 miserable failures. Come on, come on, come on, come oooooon....

Suddenly the minute hand began to shift clockwise slowly. Karen lit up brightly with joy, but until it stopped just before the final minute. The minute hand then shifted counter-clockwise ten minutes. Karen dropped her head down onto her desk defeatedly.

Karen started to wonder if she was ready for that night. It was going to be her first time out on the streets. Her first night, as a superhero.

Claire was out for a stoll in Central Park, a lovely day she thought to herself. Sure she had skipped school that day, but she considered that fact unimportant given that she had superpowers, "Why should I have to go to school everyday?" She thought to herself, and realized she just didn't want to have to deal with people. It was never her strong point, but ever sense she got her powers, she never seemed to talk to anyone at school, but she surely made it up when she was Chaos Wolverina, always taunting people and messing around with anything she could.

She was wrapped in her jacket, something she actually baught, even if the money was stolen, but it was a nice jacket, $400. She decided to get something to eat and headed out of the park, when a thug appeared behind one of the trees, holding a knife. "Give me your money and that jacket, and you can come out of this without getting cut, alright little girl." He said, holding his knife in a way that seemed cute to Claire, he was obviously trying to go for small women, so not that good at robbing.

"Come on, you think that little kfine can hurt me?" She laughed, bringing out CW. He started again, "That's it little girl." He barked before charging at her with his knife. Before he could even attemp to stab her, she had drawn out her claws and slashed his knife into three pieces. His face was scared beyond belief. She then took it a step further, and slashed his chest, leaving three large claw wounds. "Now, that'll teach you to mess with people." She said with a smile before leaving, and heading off to find a cafe to eat at.

She found a place, small and cheap, and she ordered herself some tea and soup, and she sat outside, just watching people go by. She loved her powers, and how they had helped her, and she knew it was only going to get better from here.

Pain........

That's what the lesson of the day was. That's what Nick Harker felt, as it radiated through his jaw. His knees buckled out from under him, as two of the three figures surrounding him gave him a few swift kicks to the gut and back. Matt, JC, and lil' TJ. The usually assholes of the neighborhood. They always thought they were so big, thought they were some up and coming gang bangers. The four of them were in the alley not far from school grounds, conducting their usual "business". Matt, the big leader of the group, knelt down next to him. "Harker, we go through this every time. You know I want the money. You know I'll get it. So why is it I always have to kick it out of you? You can't really be that retarded." Nick took the slight reprieve to spit the blood out of his mouth, it's copper tinge refusing to leave his tongue. He just looked up with a red-stained smile and said "nah, it's just the only time we get to hang out. You know, being such the good person you are." His stomach retched as he coughed up more blood, there was a definite dentist appointment in his future. "Yo man, why we always wastin' time with this fool? You know his dumb ass always broke." "Yeah, ese, this shit is gettin' old. Let's just hit up his little sis for the cash, man." That hit a nerve, as Nick's body flailed to life. It took both of Matt's little posse to stop the fist that was only a few inches from Matt's face, which did actually make him jump a bit. Of course, all that did was earn Nick another trip to the concrete ground. Surprisingly, Matt had a grin on his face. "Man, you just never knew when to just stay on the damn ground, did you? Just give me my money, and we leave. Don't you get that?"

Getting yet another sneaker to his gut, it was all Nick could do to keep from puking. "I..... don't have it." Nick felt like he'd just let down his sister. He'd always kept money in case these assholes showed up, which he made from doing odd jobs and playing guitar, but lately things were tough. His Grandmother had just fractured her shin a week ago, and he was struggling to make the payments on her medical bill. Current "political issues" made sure that she didn't qualify for health care, which meant that if he didn't come up with the money then she would be denied treatment. The last bit of his on-hand cash just went to paying the blood-sucking parasites off, and now there was nothing left. What the hell was he suppose to do? "Alright, you know what? Just kick it out of him. Nick, you better find some cash if you want your granny to ever recognize you again." And with that, the beating began anew. But this was different, it wasn't the sharp pains like usual, it was....... burning. Like fire, really. The two punks grabbed each of his arm, raising him off the ground as Matt looked him right in the face. "Last chance, Nicky boy. Pay or your sister will. Where's my fucking money?!" At this point, the pain was making it hard to focus, but Nick knew what was going on...... he failed. Matt was not happy, as he gave one strong right hook, sprawling Nick to the floor. "All right. Lil' T, JC, let's go. I'm done with this little bitch. Time to check in on his sweet-ass sis." Nick tried to spring to his feet, but the burning was so extreme. He began with a low moan, but it slowly began escalating in scale too this new feeling of agony. His face turning bright red as he squirmed on the floor. This display was so bizarre that even those that had just beat the utter crap out of him took notice. "Whoa..... uhhh.... yo man, he ain't lookin' too good." "And I care why, J?" "Just sayin', he looks..... I don't know, dude." "Yeah, man.... he looks like shit....."

At a closer look, Nick was now in a full blown howl. He body convulsing in sheer pain as his eyes began to bleed. "Oh shit! How hard did you hit him?!" "I didn't! Let's just get the fuck outta here, I am not going to jail for this shit!" "Ese, you know how high the penalty is for manslaughter?! We gotta at least call a doctor or somethin'!" "And who are we going to call, dumbass?" The three bickered amongst themselves, but soon fell silent as the flames began boiling through Nick's skin. His screams now going into psychotic howling, as his eyes burnt out and his skin blackened and burned. Nick swung wildly, trying to strike out at something, trying to find some way to make it stop. Fire crawled out of his mouth every time he yelled, as bone began replacing flesh. His clothes were now engulfed in a full-blown bonfire. Easily five-foot flames spouted off him, enveloping him. Finally, he.... exploded. The shock wave knocked the surrounding assholes off their feet and back against the brick walls of the alley. Fire now claimed little bits of the ground around the scorched crater, and at it's center....... a new figure knelt. Clad in wicked black leather, the orange light from the flames glinting off polished metal spikes..... and the skull. It's flaming eyes gazed up at them, covering them in a sheer terror only hell could bring. It's jaws gaped open letting out a low, inhuman howl filled with gurgles and growls like that of crackling fire. "El Diablo!" TJ screamed, attempting to make a run for it. New, dark instincts reacted to the fleeing rodent, as a chain shot out around the Hispanic thugs legs. With only a slight pull, his body came rocketing towards, and then past the flaming creature, slamming into a pile of trash bags.

Attempting to save his friend, JC charged the Ghost Rider, smashing him over the head with a pipe. The hit barely made his skull tilt, as those burning eyes looked at him. Into him. The boy never saw the kick coming, too petrified by those eyes, as he slammed back-first into the wall. His head lulled to the side, as he blacked out into unconsciousness. The Ghost Rider looked over his work, before zeroing in on the last man standing. Matt was frozen solid, unable to comprehend what he just saw. He was soon pinned to the wall by his throat, the leather gauntlet wrapped around it like a vice grip. Then.... it spoke.



".......Nick? Jesus fucking Christ, man I am sorry! I am so sorry! Please, for the love of God, I'm sorry!" Matt pleaded, his begging falling on deaf ears. Nick, through his new eyes, couldn't understand what he was seeing. Blood. Everywhere, all over Matt. But it was more than blood. It was..... ethereal. Glowing. Burning. Roaring. Raging. Screaming. Screams...... it was screaming. A woman..... Nick's grip on his throat loosened as the information overwhelmed him. Images flashed through his head, hundreds of them. It was..... Matt's past..... his sins. That woman, Nick saw everything. He felt.... everything. He felt her pain, as her final hours ran through his head. He backed away, gripping his head tight. He fell to his knees.



Nick sputtered.... He couldn't believe what he was seeing, and Matt couldn't believe what he was hearing. "How did you....? No, you weren't there....."

---

That..... that was almost a month ago. Such sweet memories of home, of Brooklyn. It had been a long time since then. Nick sat on top a rooftop in New York, gazing at the mid-day sun glaring off of the shiny buildings. They always looked so nice this high up, trying so hard to compensate for all the ugliness on the ground. Nick just lay there, propped up by the service entrance door, one arm draped across his knee. His bike sat up beside him, it's crackling wheels being the only ambiance that wasn't just city life. His mind drifted back to that day.... his first time. His change. The birth of the Rider. So beautiful the mid-day sun was......

Just....... so beautiful.........

The sun was starting to drift down, setting towards the early evening. The music of the city life washed through the buildings like a flood. Horns, tire squealing, people shouting swears at each other, and even the occasional gunshot. Ah, New York. Nick was still daydreaming, all the while staring at his hand. He had removed the glove, revealing the skeletal structure it had concealed. This wasn't unusual, for Nick often had the hopes that one day, he'd take off the glove and underneath would be a human hand. His hand. It's funny, out of everything a person knows about themselves, their own hands has to place among the highest. We see them the most, more often then we see our own face. Hence the saying "like the back of my own hand". To see something other than your ever familiar appendage..... To see something new. To see only bone, with charred ligaments and tiny flames flickering along each digit. It only reminded Nick of his new form, his new life, and that he wasn't human anymore.

What am I?

The thought brought him back to his beginnings as this creature. Back to that alley in Brooklyn. Back to looking into Matt's eyes, and seeing all his sins. Seeing that woman.

---

The Ghost Rider could do nothing but grip the sides of his had as the visions assailed him, each screaming at him for retribution. Each making him know the pain they felt. Matt, freed from being pinned to the wall, was dumbstruck by how Nick could know all of these things. Panicking, Matt pulled a small revolver from under his shirt, aiming it at the side of his skull. "No........ You weren't there....... You Weren't There!" Matt's finger pressed hard on the trigger, but the bullet melted in the barrel. The Rider latched onto his forearm with one hand, and snapped it with hardly any effort. The bone was now piercing through his skin, with Nick's hand still gripping it tightly. "Aaaaahhhhhh!!! Fuck! Let me go, you fucking monster!" Matt cried in pain. The flames within the Ghost Rider's eyes flared with a white-hot anger, as he once again pinned Matt to the wall with his arm press against his throat. The spikes from Nick's gauntlet had pricked the skin on Matt's neck, causing little droplets of blood to run down, staining his white T-shirt.







Trying unsuccessfully to wriggle free from the Ghost Rider, Matt did everything he could to avert his gaze. For some unknown, instinctual reason, he knew he did not want to look into those empty, flaming eyes. And it was for the same instinctual reason that Nick wanted him to do just that.



The punk was now in full effort of trying to get free, to get away. It felt to Matt as though hell itself had just turned it's gaze to him, making his blood run cold in his veins. His heart was racing in full blown panic, trying everything he could to fight this unknown force that beckoned his eyes to the Rider's. He could not meet his stare, but it felt as though he was compelled to.



And with that, Matt's will relented to this force, as he peered into those empty eye-sockets and beheld all his sins. Those same ghostly images that had overwhelmed Nick now viciously attack Matt, crying out in the vengeance they had been given. Matt struggled and screamed, howling as he felt every shot, every stab, every hit. His eyes widened in sheer terror, as his hair turned stark white. The blood that stained Matt's soul was burned away by ephemeral flames, and the Ghost Rider let his body fall to the ground as a jabbering, worthless excuse for a human. He lay there, eyes wide open, stuttering the same psychotic chant over and over.

"Don't let the monster get me....... "Don't let the monster get me.......
Don't let the monster get me....... Don't let the monster get me.......
Don't let the monster get me....... Don't let the monster get me.......
Don't let the monster get me....... Don't let the monster get me.......
Don't let the monster get me....... Don't let the monster get me.......
Don't let the monster get me....... Don't let the monster get me.......
Don't let the monster get me....... Don't let the monster get me.......
Don't let the monster get me......." Don't let the monster get me......."

Nick scoffed. I'm the monster? He turned to make his leave, but was stopped when he spied a broken piece of mirrored glass. For the first time, he beheld his own appearance. He was speechless, as his fingers traced over the bone of his face. His eyes, his nose, his ears, his skin, even his own clothes. Everything, just...... gone. Replaced by this.....



"Hey, what's going on down here?" A voiced call from down the alley, snapping Nick back to attention. An officer, mid 40's, obviously responding to the screams. His hand was on his holster, promptly snapping and drawing his gun at the first sight of Nick. "Holy mother of God..... Freeze!" The 9mm Glock aimed right at him, Nick tried showing his hands in a non threatening manner. He wanted to explain what happened, but how could he? How could anyone? Unfortunately, his movement was enough to panic the cop even further. "I said freeze!" Nick wanted to say something..... but what? He opened his mouth, hoping the words would just flow out, but wasn't given the chance. The officer fired four rounds into his chest, passing right through his ribs, with a fifth shot bouncing off his skull and sending a flurry of embers fluttering through the air. Nick's mind almost went into shock trying to comprehend everything, now on top of that the fact that he wasn't dead. The cop just stared, in as much disbelief as Nick. "What...... are you?!"



"11-99, 11-99, get me backup now!" the cop yelled into his radio, giving a clear sign that Nick wasn't getting out of this easy. And so, he ran. Deep into the alleys, in the darkest parts of the city. He ran until he felt safe, until the bike found him.

---

Even to this day, that question rings through his head, but only now does Nick realize what he wanted to say,



Slowly, he returned the leather glove to his hand. He grimaced at the thought of what he'd become. Why had those memories come back now? Can he ever go back? But of course, one question stood in front of the others,

Am I a monster?

Gwendolyn was sitting on a bench in the streets, earphones in. The world out. That's how she saw it and she'd prefer it that way. Humming to the tune softly as she watched cars go past, it passed the time for a moment. The brunette kept her handbag beside her as she gazed, then looked to the sky in disgust. "One day, I'll end up up there and when I do, you'll fear my wrath." She mumbled as she took one leg off the other, sitting up straight and rubbing an eye. She was tired from a long working day. Why is the world like this? Gwen asked herself silently and sighed. She felt miserable, pure miserable and that was only because she was tired. Tired, stressed and just really negative today.

She then decided to get a bottle out of her black handbag, which matched the shirt under her green/khaki jacket and sipped some. Closing her eyes as the taste of the coldness trickled down her aching throat. After complaining a worker in a local supermarket about the pricing of drinks. Her throat was sore. Then after a few more, one or two gulps she placed it back into the handbag after screwing the lid back on again and sighed. She bit her lip as she then stood up, placing strands of hair behind her left ear and made her leave, walking in black flats and dark jeans.

The Filipina girl kept walking, past houses and streets, it was a very ordinary day for her. Too ordinary. She didn't like it at all. It was boring, really, ultimately, stupidly boring. She looked at the nearby bus stop as she walked and decided she'd get that back to her 'home' instead of walking, her legs ached and everything. So she'd rather wait.

The bus stop said 10 minutes.

Well, it better be worth that wait then... She thought as she snuggled up in her coat, all chilled and relaxed inside. But then the clouds in the sky caught her attention, she obnoxiously raised an eyebrow as the white puffs of fluff flew by over her head and over the many buildings that are ever so tall. Why do you clouds exist..? She thought about the clouds floating by and sighed again. Now mentally questioning her own life, why is she still here after all her fathers abuse against her? Why? Oh why?

Because she was stronger than she gave herself credit for, that's why. Now, 7 minutes until the bus arrived and then Gwen sighed again, her brown hair falling back into it's original place. Which funnily enough didn't bother her this time, and she laughed to herself before placing a leg on the other again. I guess being misunderstood is pretty much an understatement at best... She then thought and pursed her lips before tilting up again, looking to the clouds and the beautiful sky, sighing contently as her mind drifts off somewhere, far away because she hated this, the cold and the waiting, the fake love and the hating. It was something she didn't enjoy in the world, something that made the world cruel in her eyes.

Gwendolyn Yvonne Byron-Verceles hated it with a major hating passion, that's for sure.