Back Into the Fires of Hell

"We'll pick you up!"

"There's no time! GO!"

"Till we meet again Pat, till we meet again."

The Ghost awoke to find the TBM Avenger right where he'd left it. Walking down the steps of Reddick Mansion and firing a round from his revolver into the skull of an unlucky raider who'd dare to trespass.

His eyes only visible above his American flag mask, they were in a squint, as if they were the only things holding back the rage of God. He marched down the street passing the Roxy Theater where he promptly gutted another raider then butchered a third.

"Please, Please, we didn't know this place had anyone there!"

"Now everyone will know, by the posts with your bodies skewered upon them."

"Dear god, please no, spare me, I beg of you!"

"Anyone willing to turn on their friends will no doubt turn on me, and I hold loyalty above all else."

The raider tries to run only to have his neck snapped and severed from his shoulders.

The Ghost of Ottawa was the single most feared entity in the wasteland. Rumors and stories of how he'd killed off thousands of New World Order soldiers and sympathizers had spread like wildfire.

The Ghost walked into a bar that was established where the old Bear's Den used to be, now called the rusty blade.

The room went silent as he walked up to the counter. Bloody footprints marked his every step.

"My usual barkeep."

"Coming right up!"

The Barkeep took out a can of Code Red Mountain Dew and a bottle of Strawberry Margarita and mixed them, and added a double shot of vodka then served the Ghost.

"Here you are."

"Put it on my tab, anyone here been giving you trouble?"

"Unfornately yes. The gang in the booth in the back, they've been picking fights with everyone in here, myself included."

"No problem." The Ghost said polishing off his drink and walked off towards the booth.

"Aye Gin, look, we got ourselves a hero."

The Gang Leader steps up and points his gun at the Ghost.

"The FUCK are you doing."

"I'd be more concerned with where you're pointing that toy."

"OH so YOU think you're a hero, here to save these people? Is that right?"

The Ghost chuckles: "If you were a threat to me, I'd have painted your brain all over the walls of this booth. I'm here to see if you're man enough to face me outside, after all I don't wanna make trouble for the nice barkeep."

The Gang Leader shoves past him only to be brought to his knees by the Ghost trapping him in a finger hold pressure point.

"Outside, now."

The Ghost tosses the leader into the street and takes his position. The Gang Leader's eyes were that of a viper, ready to strike his next kill, however, looking into the eyes of his masked challenger, his confidence was broken. The returning glare of his opponent was that of a demon, stalking and choking the life out of anything they saw.

"You're...you're not a hero are you..."

"No, I'm the mother fucker you should've listened to."

The Ghost begins walking towards him, revolver holstered, bare knuckles exposed. The Gang Leader begins to back up, falling over and trying to crawl away. However, he is caught by the Ghost and with a dual hand motion, he destroys the man's jawbone, snapping it downward, the shoving it back into the man's skull, killing him.

"Bring his pals out here. NOW!"

The patrons of the bar shove the other gang members out in front of the Ghost. One reaches for his gun, only to have his head blown open, and another tries to flee only to be shot through the forehead, falling over like a log. However, the last one, stayed put, trembling at the sight of his leader and friends dead in front of him.

"Now, little birdy, sing for me, what exactly were y'all doin here, and if you lie to me, I'll be sure that what i did to your leader, looks like an accident in comparison to what I'll do to you."

"We...We were here looking for women..."

"Women? Now for what reason?"

"A-and them twinks, boss said we were gonna.... do stuff to em."

"If you want to live, you'd best tell us what kinda stuff."

"Sex and Torture em."

"See was that so hard? Now where are you keeping the others?"

"T-The old cimco plant, there's a New World Order Guy running the show there...."

"Good now that's all I needed to know." The Ghost unloaded his revolver into the man's head, removing it completely from his neck.

"JUST BECAUSE WE ARE IN A WASTELAND, DON'T MEAN I WON'T KILL A MOTHERFUCKER WHO CAN'T KEEP HIS DICK TO HIMSELF! AM I FUCKING CLEAR ON THAT?"

The patrons nod as he reloads his revolver and makes his way to Cimco.

Once there, it's an absolute bloodbath. There wasn't a single soul other than those locked in cages, left standing.

"So this is what the NWO wanted us to be, sex slaves trapped in cages to be preyed upon."

"Sir, these aren't slaves, but they are less than you and I! I'm sure we can come to an agreement!"

"The only thing I will every agree to is beating you senseless, dragging you behind a car, then stringing you up so everyone can see what happens to rapists, what happens to those who can't control themselves."

Before the man could speak, the Ghost tightens the noose around him and drags him out in front of cimco's entrance, where he let those trapped and hurt by him kill him. The once green coveralls were now dripping crimson red, blood covering the man as he escorted the slaves of cimco back into town and to the mansion.

"Get yourselves cleaned up, there showers and lights work, there is plenty of food, and water, help yourselves. You are safe here."

Outside some locals brought them clothes and pillows in order to rest.

"That's the Ghost."

"Yea?"

"That's just who is, a soul trapped here in order to protect those others have chosen to hurt."

"And what happens to the others who hurt those he protects?"

The man points to the line of carcasses in front of a mound of bodies.

"That's what happens to them. They are sent into the fire of hell where even the best plans to save them are crush by his blood soaked boots."