Chronicle III: Zarathos

Dante woke up with the first rays of sunlight. His head ached like never before and he remembered nothing at all from the night before. He saw blurry, he even hit his closet. He cleared his drowsiness by washing his face with cold water, but he was still a bit dizzy. After dressing, he went downstairs. At the table was only his adoptive father, Carl.

- Hey- he greeted- Have the others left?

-Yes, your mother went to a friend's house and your brother went on a field trip with the school.

-Cool- the boy took a beer from the freezer and sat on the table with his feet resting on it, which won a look from the older man, so he lowered them- Anything interesting in the newspapers? -asked when he saw him so immersed in the paper.

-It's the usual, but there is something that stands out.

- What? A fat man donating money to the poor to take away later? A woman saving a puppy?- the teenager rocked in his chair without paying attention.

- Actually, is something quite supernatural.

Carl extends the front page of the newspaper to his son, showing him a cover story: it showed a barely visible figure on a motorcycle with its head on fire. The large print of the newspaper attracted attention with the title:

"𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭? 𝘉𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵!"

The boy was absorbed in observing the image. His head began to throb, bringing with it the fleeting but indistinguishable memories of the night before.

Daniel fell to the ground gritting his teeth from the sudden migraine. He remembered clearly his encounter with Mephisto and the voices in his head, but nothing more.

- Daniel! Are you okay ?!

- Y-Yes, I'm fine. I just slipped.

- That's what you get for playing with the chair ... How many times did we tell you not to?- the man protested, releasing a sigh of relief when he saw that his son was fine.

After that small event, the boy leaves home minutes later on his motorcycle. He was navigating the vehicles lost in thought, but luckily he was paying enough attention to avoid a collision. Little by little, the memories of his nocturnal excursion came to his mind, and as he did so, he became more terrified of what he did, and what he can do.

-𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒐'𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌, 𝒌𝒊𝒅.

Dante's eyes widened and he looked up the road, managing to dodge the truck with a sudden maneuver; however, he lost control of his motorcycle and crashed into a pole; shooting out and falling on the grass. He got up altered, looking at everything around him trying to locate the voice he heard.

-𝑬𝒂𝒔𝒚, 𝒌𝒊𝒅. 𝑱𝒆𝒔𝒖𝒔, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅...

-W-Who are you?!

-𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍, 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚...

The boy notices that the drivers had stopped and looked at him strangely, taking him for crazy. Faced with this discomfort, Daniel cleared his throat and set his motorcycle, giving them a thumbs up and leaving the scene.

In the road, the kid finally whispers:

- So... Who the hell are you?

For a few moments, there was no answer. It seemed that "the voice" was hesitating.

- 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒁𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔- finally,the voice replied- 𝑰´𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑴𝒆𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

Zarathos told him his story. It came from the time of Da Vinci, between the years 1452-1519. At that time, he lived as a merchant in Valencia, although he was born in the slums of, at that time, the USA. Mephisto managed to convince him to sign due to the unjust accusation of a murder that he had not committed. As there was "solid" evidence, he was sentenced to death. If it weren't for Mephisto, he would have been lynched, but The Contract caused him more pain and torment than the fate from which he escaped.

- 𝑴𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑴𝒆𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐. 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆...

Daniel had calmed down a bit, although he was still in shock when he found out about his "guest". But after hearing his objective, he remembered the pain that Mephisto incrusted in him when he murdered his mother ... He had not forgotten. If she had died for natural causes, life, or something else, he could accept it, it would be different ... But he couldn't now. Not when it was her death was it his fault.

However, the question was present. How were they going to stop him, and specifically, kill him?

There was no response from Zarathos, and he ignored the fact until he left the Institute.

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Meanwhile:

In another city, in an alley, three criminals tormented a terrified woman.

-Come on, honey, just let me touch you a little ...- one of the criminals hinted,running his fingers through her curves, licking his lips as she sobbed helplessly.

-N-No, 𝘱-𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦... -begged the woman, with a broken voice. The other two individuals laughed at the nefarious act.

The darkness of the alley was slowly consumed by a fiery light, drawing the attention of the three criminals who turned to find out its origin. When they did, surprise and fear washed over them.

-𝘞-𝘞-𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵-𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬...?-one of them muttered, looking at the figure of the Ghost Rider in front of them.

-𝒀𝒐𝒖 ... 𝑳𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕.

The four people were silent, not knowing what to say or do. On the contrary, the Ghost Rider directed his gaze to the woman, and with a gesture with his head, indicated her to leave the place, which she did immediately.

The criminals, seeing that, took their weapons and opened fire on the spirit, which was of little use. As the shooting stopped, they saw each bullet fall to the ground, completely crushed. The fear they felt turned to terror as the Rider approached them, applying the Punishment Stare.

- 𝑵𝒐𝒘...𝑭𝑬𝑬𝑳 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑮𝑶𝑵𝒀 𝑶𝑭 𝑨 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳𝑺 𝑰𝑵 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑵!