Ch. 55: The Witch's Hour

The city that never sleeps was in the throes of an unusual nightmare. The air was thick with tension, the usual hum of New York nightlife replaced by a chilling silence, punctuated only by the occasional wail of sirens. The city's denizens, usually so resilient, were holding their breath, their eyes glued to the flickering screens of televisions and smartphones.

"New York is under siege tonight!" The news anchor's voice echoed through the quiet streets, her words a stark contrast to the late hour. "A hostage situation unlike any we've seen before has gripped the city."

The scene was surreal. Police barricades lined the streets, their flashing lights casting an eerie glow on the deserted roads. The words "Do Not Cross" were emblazoned on the barriers, a stark warning to the few brave souls who dared to venture out. Officers in full riot gear were working tirelessly, their faces etched with concern as they attempted to evacuate the remaining bystanders.

The camera panned to a young reporter on the scene, her face pale under the harsh glare of the spotlights. "Approximately thirty minutes ago, the NYPD arrived at this astonishing scene," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

As she spoke, the camera shifted, revealing a sight that defied belief. A yellow taxi cab, an iconic symbol of the city, was suspended in mid-air, hovering precariously eighty stories above the ground. The taxi was not alone. Encircling it was a figure, a woman draped in a flowing purple robe, her hands radiating an ethereal purple energy that held the vehicle aloft.

"The hostage is trapped inside that taxi," the reporter continued, her voice barely audible over the roar of the wind. "We have confirmation that the individual inside is none other than Chris Bourne, the renowned rock star."

The camera zoomed in on the taxi, the figure of a man visible through the fogged-up windows. His face was a mask of terror, his eyes wide as he stared down at the city below.

The reporter's voice broke through the silence once more. "All attempts by the police to rescue Mr. Bourne have been thwarted by... by that!" She pointed off-camera, her hand shaking.

The camera followed her gesture, revealing a monstrous creature that seemed to have leapt straight out of a nightmare. It was a beast, a black leopard of gargantuan proportions, its eyes glowing an ominous red. It prowled the streets, its claws tearing through the asphalt and the abandoned vehicles with ease. The police were firing at it, their bullets ricocheting off its hide with no apparent effect.

The camera cut back to the reporter. "The police are doing everything they can, but their efforts seem futile against this... this monster," she said, her voice choked with fear. "We can only hope that help arrives soon."

***

Simultaneously, across town in a modest apartment, the tranquility of the night was shattered. In a room shrouded in darkness, a figure stirred. Jon had been in the throes of a peaceful slumber. The blaring sirens and the frantic news broadcast had rudely yanked him from his dreams.

His eyes, usually warm and full of mirth, snapped open, now filled with a mixture of confusion and concern. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he squinted at the flickering screen of his television. The images of the floating taxi and the monstrous beast sent a chill down his spine.

Jon ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of the situation. Chris was a magnet for trouble, but this... this was something else entirely.

He let out a long, weary sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "What the hell happened to Chris again?!" he muttered to himself, his voice filled with a mix of exasperation and worry.

He rose from his bed, his movements swift and purposeful. He knew he couldn't just sit by while his friend was in danger. He had to do something, anything, to help. As he pulled on his jacket and headed for the door, he cast one last glance at the television screen, the images of chaos and destruction seared into his mind.

"Stay strong, Chris," he whispered into the silence of his apartment. "I'm coming."

***

Meanwhile, high above the city, Chris Bourne was trapped in the levitating taxi. He cautiously edged towards the window, peering down at the dizzying drop below. A gasp escaped his lips, and he quickly retreated, his heart pounding in his chest.

Outside, the witch Agatha was manipulating the vehicle with her magic. Chris swallowed hard, then called out to her. "Hey, Miss Witch? How about you let me go, and we can talk this out?"

Agatha turned her gaze towards him, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Oh, you poor child. You're not the one I'm after."

Chris straightened up, trying to maintain his composure. "Miss Witch, I know I'm quite the catch, but I'm taken. I'm a one-woman man, and I'm afraid you're going to have to accept that."

Agatha blinked, taken aback by his audacity. "You're not scared, are you?" she sneered.

Chris shrugged nonchalantly. "Of course not! Do you know who I am? I'm the Flaming Skeleton's biggest fan. I even gave him that cool nickname. He'll come to save me, you'll see."

Agatha's smile faded, her tone turning icy. "We'll see if he comes to save you... again. After that assassin attacked you, he was incinerated in a mental hospital. When the Hood's gang kidnapped you, Ghost Rider showed up to save you."

"Ghost Rider?!" Chris frowned. "Who gave him that awful name? My Flaming Skeleton is way cooler!"

Agatha's patience seemed to be wearing thin. "Enough!" she snapped, and with a wave of her hand, the taxi began to plummet.

Down below, the crowd gasped as the taxi fell, their relief palpable when it halted mid-air once again. Suddenly, a little girl pointed towards the horizon. "Look!"

A figure was approaching, a trail of flames in its wake. The crowd erupted in cheers as the Ghost Rider, Jon, rode towards the suspended taxi on a fire dragon.

Inside the taxi, Chris watched the approaching figure, a grin spreading across his face. "I knew you'd come!"

But his joy was short-lived. A massive shadow loomed over the fire dragon. Ghost Rider looked up to see Agatha's monstrous black leopard, its claws digging into the side of a building.

Ghost Rider patted his fire dragon, Igris, and said, "I'll leave it to you." He then leapt from Igris, his chains latching onto the side of a building, propelling him towards the taxi.

As Igris engaged the panther, Ghost Rider smashed the taxi window, reaching for Chris. But Chris' face paled, and he shouted, "Behind you!"

Ghost Rider turned to see Agatha floating in the air. "Hello, Mr. Rider," she greeted him with a smile.

"Agatha Harkness," Ghost Rider growled, his voice echoing in the night.

Agatha seemed pleased. "I'm honored you know me."

Without wasting any time, Ghost Rider unfurled his chains, the fires of hell engulfing them. But before he could strike, Agatha cast a spell, gently lowering the taxi to the ground.

"I don't want to fight you, Mr. Rider. Your opponent is someone else."

As she finished her sentence, a massive figure in red armor charged at Ghost Rider. He leapt out of the way, landing on the ground as the figure barreled past him.

"Mr. Rider, meet your opponent, the Juggernaut," Agatha introduced, but the man in red armor quickly corrected her.

"I'm not Juggernaut, I'm... Kingpin!"

Ghost Rider stared at him, then sighed. "Another version of Juggernaut? This world is different."

Kingpin glared at Ghost Rider. "You killed my men?"

Ghost Rider met his gaze. "You ambushed me?"

Kingpin flexed his muscles, a smirk on his face. "It seems we agree on one thing. We both want to kill each other."

"I agree," Ghost Rider replied.

The fight was about to begin. Kingpin swung at Ghost Rider, who caught his fist with ease. Kingpin's eyes widened in shock as Ghost Rider severed one of his fingers. Ghost Rider's chains split into dozens of strands, wrapping around Kingpin and immobilizing him.

Ghost Rider stepped forward, his gaze piercing into Kingpin's. "The power of the Crimson Dimension may be strong, but it's nothing compared to the power of Hell."

He grabbed Kingpin by the collar, pulling him close. "Look into my eyes, you bastard!"

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