Reborn as a Ghost Rider

Johnny sat silently at the table, mechanically chewing yet another culinary masterpiece crafted by Melissa. He was planning how, come nightfall, he would cast sinful souls into the fire of vengeance. The family chatter around him sounded distant, yet he still listened in.

"Mom, look at Coal," Barbara said, frowning. "He's acting strange. Not eating, just staring out the window."

The black cat sat on the windowsill, his ears pressed back in alertness. His blue eyes remained fixed on the street, as if searching for something invisible to the rest.

"Coal only acts this way for one reason," Naomi said with a faint smile, picking up the cat and placing him on her lap. "It means there's a witch in town."

"A witch?" Danny repeated, laughing. "Mom, you can't be serious."

"What surprises you, Master Daniel?" Melissa asked primly, adjusting maid's uniform. "You call one witch your mother."

She cast a brief glance at Naomi, who smirked in a way that promised nothing good.

"If only you'd seen Mistress Naomi with her friends at the bookstore," Melissa added cryptically. "A true Witch's Trio!"

"Witches don't exist," Danny declared confidently, leaning back in his chair.

Barbara squinted at him and countered, "Superheroes exist, but witches don't? Fascinating logic you've got there."

"That's completely different!" Danny protested, folding his arms behind his head. "Superheroes are science, mutations, experiments..."

"Maybe she's a scientific witch," Barbara teased. "A witch born from a military experiment."

Father, seated at the end of the table, chuckled. "If New York adjusting to superheroes, it'll adjust to witches too."

"Are you seriously discussing the existence of witches?!" Danny exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "They're not real, right?"

"Who knows, son," Naomi replied mysteriously, stroking Coal. "Who knows."

Johnny stared grimly into his coffee mug. They were talking about witches as if they were fairytales, while he had to battle monsters straight out of those same stories. And yet, he cherished these family conversations. Though he rarely joined in, he always listened with interest.

"Perhaps Mistress Naomi is right," Melissa interjected, scanning the room. "Last night, I saw a strange girl. Something about her was… off. I can't quite tell if it was her gaze or the way she moved."

Everyone turned to her.

"She was on our lawn. Coal was sunbathing at the time. The girl bent down to pet him, but he dodged and ran into the house."

Naomi glanced at the cat again, stroking his back.

"Good boy. Coal's not just handsome but clever too. I've been watching his diet for a reason."

"He might have a different opinion on that," Melissa noted. She cut off a small piece of meat and tossed it to the cat. Coal caught it mid-air and swallowed it with a contented purr.

Johnny smirked. Coal was a fighter, just like him. Even if a cat thief was lurking around, Coal could take care of himself.

---

The school cafeteria buzzed like a hive. The hum of voices, the clatter of plates, and the smell of overcooked pizza blended into a chaos that Johnny Blaze had long grown tired of. He sat at his usual table, slightly detached, observing the people around him. Students laughed, shared news, and excitedly discussed evening plans. It all felt foreign to him.

Johnny slowly scanned the room. He was bored here. School had always been something of a training camp for him. He studied history not for tests but to understand tactics and military experience. Chemistry and physics were tools for crafting weapons. Biology and anatomy held the keys to enemies' weaknesses. All of this made him better, faster, stronger. Every hour at his desk brought him closer to becoming a machine of vengeance. But now, school felt like an empty shell. He had already learned everything he needed.

"Why am I even here?" he thought, realizing he was far more invested in his plans for the night mission than in the chatter of his peers.

"Johnny?" a voice called out.

It took him a moment to realize someone was speaking to him. Looking up, he met Roxy's eyes. Her face showed mild annoyance.

"Are you even listening to me?" she asked, pouting and crossing her arms.

"Sorry, say that again," Johnny replied calmly, putting down his fork.

"You never listen to me!" Roxy said, though her irritation quickly faded. She smiled slightly and leaned closer. "I was asking if you'd like to go to a party with me tonight."

Johnny hesitated. He had never been to a party. They always seemed like a waste of time.

Seeing his silence, Roxy frowned.

"Of course. You'll probably be busy with your training. And I guess alcohol doesn't fit into your fitness routine."

"I'll go," Johnny said suddenly.

Roxy froze, clearly not expecting that answer.

"What? What did you say?"

"I said I'll go," he repeated, meeting her gaze directly.

For a moment, Roxy was speechless, then she squealed with excitement and hugged him so tightly he almost knocked over his water glass.

"You're serious?! Johnny Blaze, you're going to a party! I don't believe it!"

Johnny reluctantly raised a hand to pat her back, trying to calm her down. The entire cafeteria was now staring at them, but Roxy didn't seem to care.

As Roxy talked about the party, Johnny suddenly realized that these moments of simple happiness were something he had deprived himself of for too long. Maybe going to the party was his way of feeling like a part of their world, if only for a little while.

"This is a victory!" she chirped, letting him go. "First the party, then I'll drag you to prom. And guess what? We'll be king and queen!"

He let Roxy's excitement carry him, watching her bright eyes and infectious joy. Deep down, Johnny knew this would be his first and last party. He wanted to feel normal, just once, before closing this chapter forever.

---

Johnny slowed his motorcycle in front of a house glowing with the colorful lights of a party. Roxy, sitting behind him, excitedly tapped his shoulder before hopping off. She quickly smoothed the hem of her blue dress, which matched her sparkling eyes perfectly.

"How do I look? Fabulous, right?" she asked with a playful smile, twirling in front of him.

"Stunning," he replied, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

Roxy nodded in satisfaction, chattering about how much the dress had cost her and how she had no regrets. Johnny half-listened, instinctively assessing the scene. A typical teenage party: flashing lights, loud teenagers, the smell of cheap beer and weed, discarded bottles everywhere. A few drunk teenagers were already sprawled on the lawn. It was all so chaotic, so far removed from his usual sense of order.

"Whose party is this?" he asked, cutting through her chatter.

"How should I know? Some guy from school. His parents are out of town, and he decided to throw the party of the century," she said with a shrug.

Johnny snorted and followed her inside. As soon as they crossed the threshold, the lively atmosphere came to a sudden halt. Those who weren't too drunk recognized him. The older students paled, assuming the head of the disciplinary committee had come to shut things down.

"I'm just here to relax, same as you," Johnny said, noticing their stares.

However, his words did little to help; people continued to stare warily. Johnny leaned over and whispered to Roxy:

"I think I should leave."

"Not a chance!" she objected, grabbing his hand. "They just don't know you like I do. Come on, it'll be fine."

She confidently pulled him into the main room, where music blasted and a crowd of teenagers danced mindlessly. One of them, swaying slightly, held out two cans of beer.

"Here, enjoy!"

Johnny glanced at the drunken boy's face, briefly considering that he didn't want to end up like that. Before he could respond, Roxy grabbed the cans, opened one for herself, and handed the other to him.

"Come on, relax. Tonight, you're just a teenager."

Johnny sighed and cracked open the can. The bitter taste of the drink made him grimace.

"How do they drink this stuff?" he wondered, watching a guy chug two cans at once.

"Wait here for a minute!" Roxy said, spotting her friends. She waved cheerfully before leaving Johnny alone.

Johnny sat down on a couch next to a drunk senior who was already nodding off. He scanned the crowd. It all felt pointless. This was even more boring than sitting in class. He would've been better off spending his time at the gym or preparing for his night mission.

When the Cross of Vengeance on his chest began to burn, Johnny immediately straightened up. The burning grew stronger, guiding him. He stood and, following the sensation, walked into the hallway. Climbing the stairs, he stopped in front of a door. The handle wouldn't budge, so he kicked it open with a single, powerful blow. The sound of the stereo downstairs masked the act of vandalism.

Inside, two guys with smug grins were trying to strip a drunk girl who was barely moving, mumbling incoherently.

Johnny didn't ask questions—he didn't need to. With anticipation of a good fight, he stepped into the room. The larger of the two stood up and swung at him, but Johnny struck his throat with the edge of his hand, then grabbed his ears and slammed his knee into the guy's face. The attacker collapsed, choking and writhing in pain.

"Didn't mean to! It was his idea!" stammered the second guy, backing toward the wall.

"Good thing he doesn't hold you back anymore, right?" Johnny said, landing a solid punch to the ribs. The crunch of bones made the second guy wince.

"Can I leave now?" he asked hopefully.

"Did you ask her if she wanted to leave?" Johnny said coldly, nodding toward the drunken girl.

The guy swallowed nervously. Johnny closed the door to avoid unwanted witnesses.

For the first time all day, Johnny felt truly content. He was breaking bones, drawing blood, and unleashing the fire of vengeance upon the wicked.

Johnny exited the room, carrying the girl in his arms. He kicked the door shut behind him, ensuring that no curious teenagers would see the two rapist's would-be assailants lying among shards of glass and the shattered remains of a television.

"Johnny!" Roxy called out from the main room, approaching him with her friends. "You've got Tracy! We've been looking for her for half an hour! Where did you find her?"

"She was asleep in the hallway," he lied quickly, laying the girl down on a couch. "I'm sure she'll be more comfortable here."

"Always on guard, aren't you?" Roxy purred, leaning against his bicep. "Take a break from being the disciplinary committee tonight. I mean it."

"She's completely wasted!" one of Roxy's friends, a petite brunette, examined the drunken girl's face with concern. "Mike said he'd look after her!"

"Who's Mike?" Johnny asked.

"The host of the party. Haven't you seen him?"

She described the same guy whose head Johnny had recently smashed into a television. He had to use all his composure to keep a straight face and claim he didn't see Mike.

"Mike said he'd take care of her. Instead, he gets her drunk and leaves her in the hallway! What if some scumbag had taken advantage of her?" the brunette fumed. "What a jerk! If I see him, I'll rip his balls off!"

Johnny could've told her that she'd only find Mike in a hospital for the next month, but he decided to let it be a surprise.

"I should go," he said, meeting Roxy's gaze. "Will someone be able to take you home?"

"You're not enjoying yourself?" she asked, blinking as if he was leaving paradise. "The fun's just getting started!"

"I've had enough," he replied, glancing discreetly at the few drops of blood on his jacket.

"You're always like this. You don't know how to have fun," Roxy sighed but quickly regained her usual cheerful smile. "Go on, athlete. I'll take a cab. I know you don't like parties, but I had to try."

Roxy stood on her tiptoes and softly kissed his cheek. Johnny gave her a slight smile. Despite their differences, he would always value her friendship.

---

Johnny stepped out of the stifling house, where the music mingled with the smells of sweat, alcohol, and cheap perfume. The cool night air greeted him, and faint sirens could be heard in the distance.

"Probably someone already complained about the noise," he thought.

His motorcycle stood by the curb, gleaming under the dim streetlights. Johnny headed toward it but was stopped by a female voice.

"Feeling bored too?"

He turned. Sitting on the edge of the roof, as if unafraid of falling, was a girl in a black dress and a scarlet jacket. She dangled her legs over the edge, swinging them like a teenager watching the world from above.