I'm just writing this one chapter to get it out of my system. Not sure when I'll post it, but I'm hopeful for the responses.

A majority of this will be a flashback.

Warning: Since this begins with Coven, there will possibly be racial slurs from Madame Delphine Lalaurie. Mentions of rape near the end. Will try to avoid both as much as possible.

I do not own Ghost Rider or American Horror Story

(Author Input)

'Thoughts'

"Talking"

Necessary Evil

The roar of a motorcycle was the only sound heard throughout the empty road, its lone rider staring straight ahead at his destination. Through the visor of his helmet, the rider set his sights upon the sign growing in the distance. For a moment, he thought about turning back. After all, this place was where he made possibly the worst decision of his life.

His friend, as he liked to call the thing inside of him, quickly quelled those thoughts. He had sensed something from halfway across the world, and whatever it was, it was emanating from within the city. Though what he was looking for was unknown, the rider knew at least what its nature was. There was only one thing that his friend sensed.

Evil.

As he passed by the sign, the rider took one last look at the words painted onto it.

Welcome to New Orleans.

New Orleans-City Outskirts

As he began to get closer to the mass of buildings, he remembered the events that led up to the curse that was given to him, in this city no less.

Flashback

1780s-New Orleans

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He was supposed to die around his loved ones in a white, silk bed at the age of 90. He certainly wasn't supposed to die laying in a pool of his own blood caused by a lucky gunshot to the chest. Yeah, Nathaniel Brimmer definitely didn't want to die like this.

It was supposed to be a simple run like many he had done before. Get in, free the slaves, create a distraction for them, and get out. Everything had been accounted for, except for the one lucky sonovabitch that had seen him. Now here he was, dying on the soil of a plantation field. Blood coated his black, clean cut hair, and stained the white shirt that he wore underneath his overalls. As he laid there, his life flashed before his eyes.

His father's family were allowed to settle in French Territories when he was a boy, despite the tension between the two countries at the time. At first, there was tension between Nathan's family and the French natives, but that all changed when Nathan's father met his mother. They fell in love and wed a few months later. Soon after, Nathan was brought into the world.

Ever since he was a boy, Nathan never felt comfortable with the idea of slavery. Raised as a Christian, he was taught that all men and women were created equal, no matter the color of their skin. As he grew, he began to see the horrors done to good men and women simply because of one difference in appearance, and it seemed like he was the only one to notice it.

The final straw for him was when one of his friends, someone he knew since childhood, shot a slave in the head just for bringing him his tea a second too late. Since then, Nathan bought slaves whenever he could and gave them their freedom, offering shelter on his family's land, but it wasn't enough. He knew that there were more people suffering, more people that were denied basic human rights and treated like cattle. That's when he began his crusade against the horrible practice that so many had become numb to.

It started small, with him freeing slaves that were to be sold under the cover of night, but soon it wasn't enough. With those that were willing to join his cause after freeing them, he began to attack caravans, even small transport ships. However, none of them compared to what Nathan called The Big One.

Remember that friend that Nathan saw shoot a slave because of tea? Well, he was the son of the biggest plantation owner in New Orleans. It grew just about any crop that was worth big money, and it was hell for slaves that were forced to work the fields. When it came to how cruel they treated the slaves, Nathan's friend was a saint compared to his father.

"I got one! I got one!" the man that shot Nathan shouted.

The sounds of feet hitting the ground grew louder as the other guards approached. Nathan heard the sounds of guns being cocked and closed his eyes for the end.

"Hold," a French accented voice ordered.

'Oh, no.' Nathan thought in panic.

"Turn him over." The voice commanded.

Nathan felt his wounded body shift from being on his stomach to standing on his feet. Right above him, the plantation owner's eyes widened slightly when he discovered who it was that freed his workforce.

"Nathaniel," he began, "You're the cause of this?"

The bleeding man said nothing, but his eyes said everything. He glared up at the man with all the defiance he could muster.

The owner paused for a moment before facing the two men holding Nathan up.

"Leave him. If he wants to side with the filth, then he can die like them."

The two men unceremoniously dropped Nathan to the ground, who landed on his back. Nathan roared in pain as the ground was forcefully introduced to his shoulder wound.

The sound of more footsteps drew the group's attention. All heads turned to see a group of 15-20 men arrive with guns, torches, and dogs. The owner grabbed an offered torch out of the hands of one of the men before turning to the part of the forest where the slaves escaped to.

"Come along everyone." He said. "We have product to round up."

Slowly but surely, the hunting party made their way to the forest. Soon after, Nathan was left alone to bleed to death.

He didn't know how much time had passed. A minute? Ten minutes? An hour? It didn't matter, he was getting weaker and weaker by the second.

'This is it.' Nathan thought as he began to lose consciousness. 'This is the end.'

"It doesn't have to be."

If he had the strength, Nathan would have jumped at the voice that spoke, not because it came out of nowhere, but because the voice itself felt like it held a great and dark power that reverberated throughout his soul. With what strength he had, Nathan turned his head to the left, and gazed at the being that appeared before him.

He seemed to wear a strange hat that had the image of skulls wrapping around it as a design. Messy dreadlocks covered most of his head, but what was visible was a face covered in white paint and glowing red eyes that seemed to burn into his soul. A long dark coat seemed to cover his entire body, and fingerless gloves gripped a wooden cane that dug deep into the ground.

"Wh…Who are…you?" The wounded man asked weakly.

"It doesn't matter who I am, what matters is who you are." The man answered leaning down to Nathan's level.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, you, Nathaniel, have interested me. You rescued many slaves in your life, but why? Your raising was no different than that of your parents and peers, no life changing moment that happened in your childhood. How are you so different from them?"

"God intended all of his people to be equal, that no one be superior to another." How Nathan didn't manage to choke on his own blood during that sentence, he'll never know.

"I supposed that is true," the man replied, standing back up. "But that is not why I am here."

Fishing around in his coat, the strange man pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and gently placed them next to Nathan's head.

"I am here to offer you a deal." he began, "Sign this, and not only will you be saved from death, you will have the power to save the innocent and punish the wicked."

Being at Death's Door, Nathan almost immediately tried to sign. He knew just from looking at this man that the deal was no joke. Just as Nathan was about to take the pen, he paused. A deal usually ended in both parties gaining something, and this dark entity only told him about what he'll receive.

"What would you get when I sign this?"

The man grinned maliciously, revealing dirty, stained teeth.

"Why, your soul of course."

Nathan couldn't throw the pen any harder than he did at that moment.

"Never!" he spat out in anger.

"I guessed that would be your answer." Replied the man. "Though I have to say I'm disappointed."

Fury in his eyes, Nathan stared at the being he had been conversing with for some time now.

"Why, because I won't be your slave?"

"No, I'm disappointed for them." nodding his head towards Nathans other side.

The dying man turned his head towards the direction his companion was referring to. It was the slave houses, and the sounds of screaming, gunshots, and maniacal laughter were heard coming from inside the buildings.

'The escapees!' Nathan thought in horror. 'How did they find them? How long have I been laying here?'

"Around an hour or so." The man said, as if he could here Nathan's thoughts.

The wounded man turned back to the deal maker.

"How have I not bled out yet!?"

"Only through my good graces, Nathaniel. Without me you would have been bled dry in only a fourth of this time."

"You have to do something! If you can keep me alive this long, then surely you can help them!"

"Why, I did, my friend." He replied. "I have given you a choice. You can bleed out right here and go to heaven, or you can sign the contract and save them."

As he was saying this, he lowered down to Nathan's level and offered him the pen that Nathan had thrown away before.

A war was brewing in Nathan's mind. On one hand, he couldn't sell his soul to this…thing in front of him, and on the other, he could never forgive himself for leaving innocents to die. Finally, he came to a decision. Grabbing the offered pen from the stranger's hand, Nathan turned to the contract.

'God forgive me.'

As he was about to sign, Nathan realized something.

"There's no ink." He told the stranger.

The grin returned once more to the stranger's face.

"You don't sign with ink." He simply said.

Nathan though for a moment before he turned to the puddle of blood that had been forming around him. He dipped the pen into the red liquid and turned back to the contract. In clear, neat cursive, Nathan wrote out his full name on the offered line. When he was done, the stranger picked up the contract, rolled it up, and stuffed it into his jacket.

"Well then, I guess our business is done." The stranger said as he began to walk off.

Nathan raised his hand, as if to grab on to the stranger. He noticed this and turned to the dying man and raised a questioning brow.

"Who are you?" Nathan begged.

The stranger smiled a third time and tipped his hat to Nathan.

"My name is Papa Legba, and it is time for you to wake up."

Raising his hand, Papa Legba gave one last nod to Nathan and snapped his fingers. After that, the world around Nathan collapsed into darkness.

When his eyes opened, Nathan found himself laying in the same position he had been in when he has shot, except for one thing. He didn't feel any pain from his chest. In fact, he had never felt better than he did right now.

Looking down at his torso, Nathan had found no evidence to prove he was shot except for the small hole in his shirt.

'He did it.' Nathan thought with joy. 'He actually did it!'

Remembering the emergency that he had discovered not long ago, Nathan quickly turned to the slave houses and ran.

On his trek, Nathan felt…different. He couldn't tell what exactly it was, but it felt good. It made him feel powerful, invincible. Though all of that didn't make a difference without a plan. Nathan had no weapons, no advantage against the small army of slavers he was about to face.

As he finally reached his destination, Nathan pressed himself to the side of one of the houses and peeked around the edge. The sight before him made his blood boil.

The courtyard, the place where all the slave houses were circled around, was being currently occupied by a sick, demented party. A large bonfire was blazing in the dead center of the courtyard, with various games of disturbing nature. At one corner, a few guards were forcing themselves onto the female slaves who tried to escape. At another corner, slaves were being hung on a post by their hands and used as target practice. The slaves' begging fell on deaf ears as the drunk participants opened fire on their victims.

The final straw for Nathan was when he turned his attention towards the porches of the houses and spotted the small figures weeping.

'That sadistic bastard!' Nathan thought with rage.

They were children.

The sorry excuse for a man had chained the child portion of his slave force to the posts of the porches and forced them to watch as their parents were tortured and killed. Each child called out for his or her mother and father when one appeared in the firing range. Their wailing and crying could be heard louder than all other sounds present.

However, Nathan noticed one child, a girl that looked no more than 8 or 9, fiddling with the lock that held her to her fellow prisoners. None of the others noticed her actions, too distraught at the horror before them. Not long after, the lock came undone and the shackles that held her to the other children disconnected.

Almost as soon as it happened, the little girl jumped off of the porch and ran to the edges of the dark forest beyond the slave houses. A few guards noticed the child's escape and yelled to their comrades before taking aim. The chains and shackles that attached her to the others seemed to weigh her down slightly, but it didn't matter for the events that happened next.

Before any shots could ring out, a hand grabbed onto the girl's scalp and yanked her back. The hand, belonging to a now drunk plantation owner, quickly guided the girl back to the courtyard. The child was then thrown down to the ground roughly, and she cried out in pain as the owner placed his foot on her back and forced her to the dirt floor.

"How many times must we go over this?" the drunk man slurred, his words almost not understandable.

All of the guards had their attention on him now as he continued with his speech.

"All of you are nothing!" he screamed hysterically at the 9-year-old.

The girl whimpered in pain as he yanked her head up by the air and forced her to look at the surrounding guards.

"You are lower than the scum that gathers on my shoe. You have no other purpose in life than to serve us." He said. "You are cattle, nothing more than a farm animal for us to use. If you think there will ever be a life for your kind other than this, then my dear, you're sorely mistaken."

The owner then pulled out a flintlock pistol before turning to the gathered crowd.

"Let this be a lesson to anyone else who thinks that they are nothing more than a pet for us."

The owner aimed the pistol at the girl's head, and Nathan finally broke.

He didn't know what it was, but he felt something inside his body burn as he watched the scene unfold. It wasn't the burn of anger, it was a burn for something else, a desire for something else. Faster than humanly possible, Nathan ran up, knocked the gun out of the owner's hand, and threw him into the crowd of guards.

Nathan stood there perplexed, looking down at his hands for a moment before noticing the crowd getting back up. The plantation owner was the first to notice the appearance of the man he'd left for dead.

"How are you alive?!" He demanded.

The owner's posse then aimed their guns at both Nathan and the girl. Seeing this, Nathan pushed the girl behind him as if to protect her.

"Your guess is as good as mine. If I had to say, I would like to think someone up there likes me." Nathan retorted, pointing up at the sky.

By now, Nathan felt the burning inside him growing hotter with each second. He slightly winced at the discomfort that it was causing him, before turning his attention back to the situation, not even noticing the slight amount of steam coming off his skin.

"Well then, why don't we reunite you with them?" the owner stated as he began to walk back towards the courtyard.

"Kill them!" Nathan heard the owner order as he walked away.

By now, the burning had turned into a full blown inferno. It took Nathan everything he had to not scream in pain.

The sounds of rifles cocking drew his attention back to the crowd. Behind him, Nathan felt the little girl trembling with fear.

"It's alright." Nathan whispered. "Just close your eyes."

The girl did as she was told as did Nathan. This time, he was prepared for death. It didn't matter if he was going to go to hell. If it meant letting the slaves live a little longer, then it was worth it. He let go of everything, even the small struggle that he was having with the burning, and prepared for the end.

The crowd fired.

Bullets tore through Nathan, sending blasts of pain everywhere in his body. Miraculously, none of the shots fired hit the little girl behind him. Unfortunately, that meant that he was hit by every one of them. However, none of that compared to the pain that the scorching burn was now giving him.

As the last shot was fired and the smoke cleared, the mob was surprised that Nathan was still standing. They were even more surprised, and slightly scared, with the next action he took.

The pain had come to its highest point, and Nathan couldn't take it anymore. Something inside him-no, someone wanted out, and he obliged. Nathan let out a scream that pierced the heavens and everyone watching to their core.

Nathan felt like his insides were being roasted from inside the sun. His screams soon turned into insane laughter, as if he enjoyed the pain of his flesh being seared. Fire that seemed to come from inside Nathan's body began to burn away his skin, leaving nothing but charred black bone engulfed in the flames.

Nathan's audience looked on in horror as the man in front of them had the last of his flesh turned to ash. A blackened skeleton wearing Nathan's clothes and covered in flames stood in his place. The black voids in its eye sockets examined each member of the mob equally before turning towards the little girl behind it.

She was shaking uncontrollably. Why wouldn't she be? The man that had just saved her had turned into some kind of fiery monster and pointed its attention to her. The girl never took her eyes off of the creature as it crouched down to her level. Frozen by terror, she closed her eyes as the being reached for her with its skeletal, flame covered hands.

SNAP! SNAP!

The girl's arms and legs felt lighter as she opened her eyes again. The thing that used to be a man was now holding the shackles that the slavers had used to chain her to the other children which, unfortunately, were still attached when she tried to escape.

"Chains." The being began. Its voice was almost a combination of a whisper and a growl. To the mob, it was terrifying, but to the girl, it was oddly soothing.

"A tool that has been around since man could first shape metal." The being continued. It began to fiddle with the portion of the bonds that had originally restricted her arms. "Do any of you know what they were first used for when mankind created them?"

The being looked back at the frightened mob, none of them answering its question.

"They were first used to bring buckets full of water up from wells." It tore off the cuffs attached to the chain, leaving only the links intact, before moving on to the shackles that had held the girl's legs.

"Now," The skeletal inferno started, repeating what he did with the first set of shackles and tearing off the cuffs. "They are used to bind, enslave, and torture. It's amazing how a tool's use can be changed so quickly."

Bringing the ends of two link portions together, the being wrapped its skeletal hand around them. The fire that engulfed his finger bones seem to grow more intense. After a few seconds, it removed its hand to reveal that the portions had been combined into a single chain. Satisfied, the being copied the action again with the next two chains, and then a third time with the two larger portions.

The end result ended up being a chain twice the being's height in length. As it gazed at its finished product, the being finally turned back to its astonished audience.

"I believe it's time for these chains to have a new purpose."

The being snapped the chain like a whip on the ground, and to the horror of the guards, the chain was lit ablaze.

"VENGEANCE!" The skeleton roared as it lashed its chain with lightning fast speed at the mob.

It was over as soon as it started. Each man that the chain came into contact with immediately burned to ash, leaving nothing but a pile soot and the smell of burning flesh.

The child watched on in satisfaction as the men that she had seen torturing her people lose their lives before her. Her only negative was that they didn't suffer longer.

In the same motion that he began with, the creature whipped the chain around its torso to where it went underneath its right side and wrapped over its left shoulder. Taking no pause, the skeleton paced over to the piles of ash, leaving the girl alone. As it crouched down and began sifting through the burned remains, the girl shook herself out of her stupor.

Gazing at the fiery being, she took one small step towards the creature that saved her. She immediately brought her foot back when the creature snapped its head back at her. Raising itself back to its feet, the creature tossed something to her.

Barely catching it, she looked at her hands and discovered that it had given her the keys for the shackles that held the other slaves. She looked back up, only to discover the creature walking in the same direction that the plantation owner went.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

The creature stopped its stride and gazed at her from over its shoulder.

"One more evil to punish." Was all it said before continuing its route.

The girl watched as it left before looking at the keys in her hand. Running back to the others, she quickly began unlocking the bonds as quickly as she could, ignoring every frantic question sent her way by the slaves. Halfway through freeing her people, the girl heard a piercing scream tear through the air. Not long after, a person was launched into the courtyard, startling the gathered mass of now freed slaves.

A few people shouted in terror as the creature paced after the thrown figure, and some had grabbed whatever they could to defend themselves.

"No! He's nice!" The girl screamed, hoping they wouldn't attack her friend.

The creature, however, paid them no mind as it reached the body and pulled the head up by the hair, revealing it to be the plantation owner.

The gathered slaves quieted down as the man-no, monster that had made their lives a living hell for so long finally helpless in front of them.

"Look," It began, cupping the owner's face and forcing him to gaze upon the slaves. "Look at all of the innocents you tortured for your own sick pleasure."

"What the hell are you?" The owner choked out.

"Hell itself." The skeletal inferno replied.

The being flipped the plantation owner on his back and grabbed his face with both of its skeletal hands.

"Look into my eyes." Its hands forced the owner's pupils to look nowhere else but the black voids in its eye sockets.

"Your soul is stained by the blood of the innocent." The skeleton began. "Feel their pain."

At first, the owner felt nothing. Then he experienced it. The pain, the anguish. Every kill, rape, and torture he ever committed, he witnessed it all from the perspective of those he wronged, and it burned. Every part of his body, every part of his mind, every part of his soul felt like it was ignited with fire hotter than anything possible.

He screamed to the heavens as his soul was lit ablaze with hellfire and burned away to nothing, leaving only a carcass with smoke coming out of its eyes.

The creature threw the body to the side as if it were nothing more than garbage. Only then did it notice the audience present.

Looking into its host's memories, the creature discovered the location that Nathaniel had picked for one of the slaves he freed before to guide the escapees to a safe house.

The creature pointed its bony finger to the woods south of the courtyard.

"Half a mile, you will find help."

With that, it began to walk away. The girl that it had saved before broke through the crowd and ran up to the skeletal being, despite the numerous protests from the others.

"Wait!" The skeleton paused as the girl caught up with it.

"Who are you?" She questioned.

The skeleton didn't even look at her, but still responded to her question.

"A protector of the innocent and punisher of the guilty."

The being continued its stride, and not before long ended up at a barn.

It stepped inside the building and gazed at its only inhabitant. A coal black horse was tied to the end of the stable rows, oblivious to the world around it. The horse noticed the fiery being walking up to it and in fear, began to struggle against the binds that held it.

"Ssshhh." The being said, attempting to calm the beast down.

It placed its skeletal hand on the horse's snout, and the beast calmed down immediately.

"Let's go for a ride." It whispered.

The fiery being noticed a saddle hanging off a hook on the nearby wall. Grabbing it on the way, the creature led the horse out of the barn and into the night air. After securing the saddle properly, the creature took its seat on the animal's back.

Similar to what happened with Nathan, the horse's flesh burned away, leaving only its skeleton, engulfed in flames, in its place.

The creature spurred the now demonic looking horse's sides and took off into the night.

As the newly made rider escaped into the darkness, he failed to notice the figure standing in near the edge of the forest.

"Mmmm, this will surely make things interesting." Papa Legba stated as he watched his new creation leave.

"What have you done?" a woman's voice questioned.

Legba chuckled to himself before turning around and facing the new arrival.

Black was the only color apparent on her person. A simple black dress covered all of her body, leaving only her head exposed. Her age appeared to be around 50-60 years, but Legba knew she was much older than silly numbers could count. A simple hat was atop her short, black, curly hair, with fishnet sprouting from the front and covering her eyes.

"Shachath, such a pleasure to see you again." Legba greeted the angel of death.

"Why did you release him?" Shachath demanded, her voice bordering on the point of shouting.

Legba sighed as he fiddled with his cane.

"Maybe because I was simply bored."

Shachath's face contorted into one of fury as she stepped towards Legba. Two majestic, black wings emerged from her shoulders and gestured threateningly at the man across from her.

"Do not play games with me! You know why Zarathos was locked away!"

"And you know how he became this way." Legba countered, pointing his cane at her. "Where were you and your brethren when he was being tortured in hell?"

Shachath bristled in anger at the accusation. When Legba received no response, he continued with his statement while circling the angel.

"For nearly one thousand years, he was in pain and anguish. You stopped looking after almost half that time."

Shachath looked at the ground, a slight amount of shame in her eyes.

"We didn't think that hewould keep Zarathos for that long."

Legba gave no response as he walked around her. Silence reigned until he spoke again.

"Maybe there was another reason I let him out." Legba began as he lowered his cane and completed the circle.

Shacath looked back up at Legba, curiosity getting the better of her.

"I'm not so sure that you have noticed, Shachath, but there has been a rise of late. A rise of evil." Legba continued. "Its forces are beginning outnumber good ten to one, and soon, give or take a few hundred years, that number would have doubled. For that reason, I gave a good man the powers necessary to balance the scales, because that is what Zarathos is now. A necessary evil."

Shachath's eyes widened at what Legba was saying.

Seeing the angel of death stunned into silence, Legba took that as his cue to leave.

"Unfortunately, it's time for me to take my leave. I have some new residents in hell that I would love to meet." Legba said. "It was nice talking to you Shachath. Maybe we can do it again sometime."

Legba raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Shachath snapped out of her stupor just in time to see him beginning to turn to black dust.

"Stop!" She screamed as she made a grab at him.

Her fingers clenched nothing but black sand as Legba disappeared, leaving her alone in the field.

Shachath stood in silence before looking towards where Nathaniel had left. For a few seconds, she did nothing but stare at the path. Then it finally hit her like a ton of bricks.

Zarathos was free.

The Spirit of Vengeance was free.

She let loose her black wings and took flight. She had to inform the others of the events that took place here. As she flew, one thought entered her mind.

'Beware those who shed innocent blood. Your judgment is coming earlier than expected.'

End Flashback

New Orleans-Downtown

Nathan had woken up in a field the next day, dazed and confused. It wasn't long until he figured out the gift he had been given, and the side effects it came with.

The first was immortality. No matter how much time had passed, Nathan would always look the same as he did when he first accepted the deal and gained his friend. That meant he had to continuously be on the move, if people noticed that he always looked like a man in his early 30s, they would begin to ask questions.

The second, the friend seemed to have the ability to locate where large quantities of evil would begin to emerge, and always forced Nathan to head there to exterminate it, which is now why Nathan was in New Orleans.

Third and finally, Nathan had to occasionally let his friend out to deliver justice. He could fight it, but eventually his friend would overpower him and take control. It also didn't help that he wouldn't be discreet in taking vengeance upon the wicked. The last thing Nathan would need is for the world to go on a manhunt for him.

Parking his bike on the side of the street, Nathan decided to stretch his legs and explore the city a bit. Nathan took off his helmet, revealing messy, shoulder length, black hair and a thick beard. Being on the road constantly and always low on cash due to the fact he couldn't use credit cards left him with poor personal hygiene.

Nathan decided to venture just a few blocks, so he wouldn't forget his bike. That plan fell apart in the first 20 minutes of his walk. Who would thing that a city would look so different after 300 years, right? Nathan sighed and dug his hands into his pockets.

'Just going to have to wait until later.' Nathan thought absently.

Deciding to just wander for a bit, Nathan followed the constantly shifting masses of New Orleans. That ended up leading him to the poorer part of the town. Passing through various shops and stands, Nathan noticed a sign that caught his attention.

Cornrow City.

Looking through the window, he witnessed people getting their hair worked on by stylists.

'Hopefully they can give me a trim.' He thought.

Looking into his pockets, Nathan counted 10 dollars and 2 quarters.

"This should be enough." He muttered before opening the door.

The bells attached to the entranced chimed, signaling his entrance into the building. Once he closed the door, Nathan turned to the receptionist at the front desk, her attention focused on something on her computer.

"Welcome to Cornrow City. Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked, turning to the new arrival.

Nathan watched as her eyes widened and shoulders tense as she took in his appearance. He couldn't really blame her, at first glance, Nathan was an intimidating figure.

His attire had changed drastically since the deal he made. Nathan now wore black combat boots and fading black pants. A white t-shirt was worn underneath the black leather jacket he had covering every part of his torso and arms, and leather gloves shielded his hands from sight. That, combined with his muscled frame, made him into a scary looking fella.

"I'm sorry to bother you, mam," Nathan spoke softly, not wanting the woman to fear him. "But I'm new to town and so far, your place is the only thing I've found even related to getting a haircut."

Placing the money he had in his pocket on the table, Nathan continued. "Is there any way I can get a quick trim?"

The receptionist composed herself, seeing his intentions were honest, and answered his question. "I'm sorry sir. We're booked solid all day long."

Nathan frowned, putting the money back in his pocket and started for the door.

"I can squeeze him in."

Both Nathan and the receptionist turned to the voice that sounded out in the entrance to the stylists' workplace, with the former's eyes widening in shock.

"Are you sure Marie? I can tell you'll have your hands full just from looking at him."

"Marie" was an African-American woman with long, black dreadlocks that reached her waist. She wore a leopard print tube top with a red, leather jacket over it, and black slacks that led down to high heels. Even though she looked different, Nathan knew who she was the second he laid eyes on her.

"I'll be fine. Come along biker boy, I'll make you pretty again." She teased as she signaled with her finger to follow her.

Nathan said nothing as he followed the stylist to one of the seats they had prepared. No words were spoken between the two as Nathan sat in the chair and Marie wrapped a cape around his front, positioning Nathan's chair to where it would face the mirror.

As she began preparing her tools of trade, Nathan stared at her reflection with narrowed eyes. Marie noticed his gaze from the mirror and decided to disrupt the quiet that had surrounded the two.

"So, are you going to ask, or should I go ahead and answer the question on your mind?" She asked sarcastically.

"How?"

"How, what? Am I going to cut your hair? Well, I was thinking of taking this mess." She ran her fingers through his tangled hair. "And just shave it all off."

"Don't be coy. In all my life, there have only been two ways in this world to not age." Nathan stated as she began to snip away at his hair. "The first way I know of is contained on the other side of the country, the other…"

As she finished with his sides, Marie stared into the reflection of Nathan's eyes as he continued.

"…means that you made a deal."

Marie began combing through his follicles, straightening out his black tresses.

"What if I did?" Marie asked as she began to cut.

"Then you've made one of the biggest mistakes of your life." Nathan replied.

Marie began to chuckle so much that she had to stop cutting for a moment. When she calmed down, she continued to make progress on his mane.

"Men with houses of glass shouldn't throw stones, you know."

Nathan's eyes widened at what Marie was referring to before narrowing again.

"Since when did I say that my deal was cost-free?" He countered.

Marie listened intently as she finally reduced Nathan's hair to half the length she started with.

"I have to live with him inside me till the end of time, always having to skip town every time he takes over. Not much room for anything else in my life because of that, not for friendship, not for love."

Nathan's eyes became downcast as he said the next part. "I had to learn that last one the hard way."

Marie's intrigue by Nathan's change was apparent on her face.

"Oh my. You tellin' me someone actually captured the heart of the host of the Spirit of Vengeance? Must've been some woman."

Nathan's face turned into a nostalgic smile as he remembered his time with her.

"She was." He whispered.

"Well, don't just sit there. You got me interested." Marie finished her work on his scalp and proceeded to cut at his long facial hair.

"I…Uh…met her in 1920s in LA. My friend made me head there, sensing that there was a large amount of evil emanating from a hotel. A week or two passed since I had arrived, and since we hadn't found out who was the cause of the evil, my friend was getting antsy from being denied for so long. It wasn't long until I was forced to let him out."

Marie had shortened his beard enough to where it was suitable for a straight razor. Putting down her scissors, Marie moved over to a shaving cream dispenser and gathered two palm sized amounts from it. Moving back over to Nathan, she gently started to spread the substance around his facial hair. All the while she was doing this, Nathan continued his story.

"He came across a woman getting mugged by two thugs. No surprise that he took care of them easily. Right after that, he decided that it was a good time to give control back to me, not even caring about the woman we saved witnessing it. After changing back, I expected her to call me a monster. To scream. To run."

Nathan felt the cool steel of the razor press against his cheek and slide down. The blade cut through the stubble on his face like hot butter.

"I definitely didn't expect her to run up and hug me while crying. After calming her down, we ended ep getting to know each other. She was an up and coming actress, the only parts she had had so far were extras. Before I knew it, we were together, and I can honestly say it has been the best part of my life so far."

"What happened to her?" Marie asked as she washed off her razor and prepared for another attack on his whiskers.

Nathan's eyes became downcast, and his grin turned into a frown.

"Things." He simply stated, his voice leaving the impression he wasn't going to speak any more of it.

Marie decided to leave it at that and not push him any further. Shaving the last of his beard off, she stepped back to admire her work. Nathan followed her example and was surprised at how different he looked compared to when he first arrived.

Any and all facial hair he had was gone, revealing smooth skin. His unkempt mane had been thinned and shortened down to the point to where, although it was still shaggy, he didn't look like a caveman.

Nathan stood up from his chair and turned to Marie.

"My point is," Nathan began as he dug into his pocket and handed her the money he originally offered the receptionist. "Just like a haircut, a deal has a price."

Heading to the door, Nathan turned to Marie and gave her one last piece of advice.

"I know what my deal cost me. You should consider whether or not the price he's been making you pay was worth immortality."

Nathan exited the building, the only thing signaling his departure being the bell attached to the door, and left Marie was left to ponder his advice.

New Orleans-Uptown

Time had passed quickly since Nathan's impromptu meeting with Marie. Since then, Nathan had been walking the streets of the city to reacquaint himself with its landmarks and locations. Day soon turned into night, and the residents of the town returned to their homes to slumber.

That was a luxury Nathan wished he could afford right now. After spending the last of his money on the haircut, Nathan was officially broke.

'I'll look for something that pays tomorrow.' He thought to himself.

Right now he was in the upper part of the city, walking down the sidewalk with no real destination in mind. As he walked, he noticed some sort of house party happening up the street. As he got closer, Nathan noticed the party's occupants were teenagers. His nose scrunched up in disgust as the stench of alcohol permeated his nose.

'Kids.' He thought to himself. 'Don't even realize that there is a reason for all the rules they break.'

His thoughts, however, were put on hold when he noticed a few guys, college age he guessed from the jackets, run out of the house of the party in a panic. Soon after, another guy wearing the same kind of jacket as the ones before, and two girls ran after them.

The first group that exited the party quickly stuffed themselves into a party bus that was parked on the curb, its driver being thrown out in the process. The guy that ran out with the girls quickly joined the ones in bus. The vehicle began to run down the road, almost turning Nathan into road kill in the process.

Ignoring the two girls, who were arguing about something, Nathan kept his attention on the bus that was now getting smaller and smaller as it got farther away. Then he felt it. His friend felt it. On that bus, a pure and innocent soul was extinguished.

His friend became enraged, demanding to be let out. Nathan didn't give it a second thought before agreeing with him.

Nathan winced slightly as he felt his flesh burn away, having gotten used to the feeling after 300 years of it. His boots became singed, his combat pants began to tear, and his leather jacket and gloves began to bubble from the heat of the fire that had taken the place of his body tissue.

The creature roared in fury, signaling the completion of its transformation. By now the girls arguing had been silenced, staring at the rider's back as it faced the bus. The rider paid them no mind as it sprang into action.

Pulling its arm back, a chain erupted from the sleeve of the rider. Twirling it a few times to build momentum, the rider launched it at the fleeing vehicle. The chain, acting as if it had a mind of its own, quickly dived into the underside of the bus and wrapped around the front wheels. With one strong tug from the rider, the bus was violently flipped forward, doing one somersault before landing on its back.

The rider quickly retracted the chain back into its jacket sleeve and, without a second thought, began walking towards the bus. Not noticing that the two girls behind it were following it, the rider walked around the exterior of the wreckage that it had created. Finding the bus's door, the rider easily tore off the piece of metal and began searching the vehicle's inside.

Its two companions were shocked by what had happened in the span of a few minutes. Gathering up her courage, one of the two decided to speak.

"What are you doing?"

Both visibly flinched when the rider snapped its head in their direction. The second girl quickly turned to the first and tugged at her arm.

"Madison-"

"If he was going to hurt us, Zoe, he would have done it by now." The girl, Madison, told her friend.

Whilst the two were arguing, the rider took a moment to take in their appearance.

Madison was a young woman who looked to be either in her late teens or very early twenties. Currently, her long, blonde hair was disheveled, and her black and white party dress looked wrinkled and hastily put together. Runny makeup indicated that she had been crying heavily. In short, she looked like she had just been through a tornado.

Zoe appeared to be around the same age as Madison, with long brown hair that reached her torso. She wore a black, single strap dress that hugged her body. Unlike Madison, she did not share the same disheveled look.

There was something strange about them, like there was something inside of them that made the two more than meets the eye. That theory was also supported by the fact they weren't running away from the rider, screaming.

A groan from inside the bus stopped all activities the three were taking part in. The rider entered the bus's entrance, disappearing from Zoe and Madison's sight. The two stood alone in silence as they waited for the rider to come out.

That silence was soon broken as shouting began to emerge from the bus.

"Wait, no! Get away!"

Without warning, a body was tossed out of the rider made entrance, the spirit of vengeance walking back outside shortly. The person that was thrown tried to scramble away from the walking inferno, but his efforts were in vain as he felt two hands grab the back of his jacket and pull him up.

Forgoing any sense of gentleness, the rider slammed the survivor into the side of the overturned bus. Switching its grip from the back to the front, the rider turned its victim around to where he would be facing its skeletal face and held him there.

Now that the survivor was still and visible, Zoe and Madison's eyes simultaneously widened when they discovered who it was in the rider's grasp.

"Look into my eyes." The rider ordered the survivor. Zoe and Madison involuntarily shuddered after hearing the rider's voice for the first time.

The survivor defied the rider's command and struggled against the its iron grip. Grabbing him by the face, the rider forced the survivor to gaze into its obsidian eye sockets.

"Your soul is stained by the blood of the innocent." The rider growled out.

"The hell are you talking about?! I didn't do anything!" The survivor choked out.

"Bullshit." Zoe stated, stepping forward.

The rider turned his and, almost in a comical way, the survivor's head in Zoe's direction. Zoe slightly gulped at having the rider's attention on her, but she continued.

"He and his friends…they…they," Zoe steeled her nerves and forced herself to tell the truth, "They raped Madison."

Nothing but silence came from the rider, and the only sound that they could hear was the crackle coming from the rider's fiery outline.

The Spirit of Vengeance turned back to the survivor, now understanding why Madison looked so disheveled, and grabbed his face with both hands. Zoe and Madison swore that the skeletal face of the rider turned into an expression of fury.

"Feel. Their. Pain." It growled.

The next thing either of them knew, the survivor began to scream in horror and thrashed around in the rider's grasp. Steam emanated from his eyes, before finally catching ablaze. After a few seconds of this, the survivor's body became limp in the hands of the rider, smoke rising up into the air from his now charred eyes.

Letting the body fall to the ground, the rider then began to see people from the party starting to come out to discover what was going on. Quickly turning away, the rider began to leave the scene in order to prevent discovery. Seeing its actions, Zoe quickly gave chase to the rider. Just as it reached the end of the flipped over bus, Zoe called out in an attempt to halt the walking inferno.

"Wait!"

The possessed man stopped in his tracks and looked back at the young woman who had stopped him.

"Right then, you said that his 'soul was stained by innocent blood', or something. Obviously, he and his friends didn't kill Madison, so…" She trailed off, hoping the unspoken question was answered.

The rider took the question into consideration for a moment, then answered.

"The innocent was recent. Right after the bus began to leave."

That gave Zoe pause. She remembered seeing every person that had been on that bus present at Madison's assault. All except…

"Kyle!" She shouted, rushing to the entrance of the bus that had been created by the rider.

A hot, gloved hand grasped her forearm, stopping her in her tracks. Struggling against the grip, she turned to see the hand belong to the rider.

"Let go of me! I have to help him! He's-"

"Dead." The rider finished, keeping a tight grip on the brunette's arm.

Zoe ceased her struggling as she gazed at the rider, who took the opportunity to explain itself

"In order for my host, the man you witnessed turn into me, to let me out," It began, "There must be innocent blood spilt."

Madison's eyes burned with unshed tears as she registered the news she received. Falling to her knees, the brunette wept for her now dead friend as Madison knelt down and hugged her.

'It makes sense.' She thought, wiping her eyes. 'The one decent person I meet after coming to this shithole ends up dying a few minutes after.'

"I am sorry, child." The rider stated to the crying girl, actually feeling something more than they thirst for avenging the innocent.

The roar of police sirens was heard, and the lights of New Orleans' finest were seen coming closer from miles away. The rider noticed the sounds and sights approaching and prepared to leave.

Bringing his thumb and index finger to its bony mouth, the rider let out a hellish sounding whistle.

Its two companions stopped their actions in order to witness the next set of events to unfold. A motorcycle's engine was heard, steadily growing closer. Before either could react, Nathan's motorcycle, with no rider, came crashing through the fence of one of the backyards and headed straight for them.

Before the rider less cycle collided with the group of three, it suddenly veered off to the side, skidding to a stop in front of the rider. Said walking inferno then boarded the bike, and before Zoe and Madison's eyes, it went through a hellish transformation. (1)

Looking back to the two awestruck girls, the rider gave one last message.

"Tell no one of my existence. The world will be better off." The rider stated, revving up its hellcycle.

The two young women watched as the Devil's bounty hunter rode off into the night, leaving behind a trail of fire and the smell of brimstone.

1. It's the same model and transformed version of the bike from Spirit of Vengeance. I'm not good with complex descriptions yet.

My flash drive became partly corrupted.

Work that I had been almost complete with, thousands of words, all gone in an instant.

That's why I had this story on standby, so that it wouldn't be another few months before there would be another update. I know I went back on my word on not posting anymore stories for now, but this is going to be on hold for a while after first publish. I hope all of my readers understand my situation.

Remember to review and give constructive criticism. Blades out.