Chapter 4: Encounter with Batman.

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-0-

(General P.O.V)

Jimmy was a true Gothamite. Born and bred. Raised in Little Italy, he followed in his Father's footsteps and started running jobs for the Falcone mob family, before Batman and Catwoman ruined that particular gig.

His Dad and a bunch of the associates were sent to Blackgate for life.

Jimmy managed to escape that mess by being a minor. Luckily, Two Face happened to take him in during the slump, and Jimmy became a loyal subordinate ever since.

Proving himself quick witted and brutal, he was promoted to squad leader. 

And for 10 years, he was yet to fail his boss or get permanently incarcerated by the Justice System. All because of one tiny little principle: 'Get outta dodge when the freaks come out.'

Jimmy and his crew, had been sent by Two Face to collect a cache of weaponry from the rival gang but out of nowhere, the Penguin had decided to raise the price. Things got heated and then the Cops showed up.

His men were giving them a hell of a fight too, until that thing appeared.

First it went for Ramirez.

-0-

With a fiery glare, the Ghost Rider growled, "YOUR RECKONING HAS ARRIVED."

"D- Die...freak!!!"

Ramirez screamed at the burning skull and empty eyes focused on him. He brought his gun up, switched to automatic and emptied the whole clip on the Rider's face.

The Rider's open mouth swallowed all the bullets with no visible damage. When the gun clicked empty, Ramirez damn near wet himself in terror.

With a sadistic cackle,

"LOOK INTO MY EYES, SINNER."

The Ghost Rider rasped out, pulling Ramirez close. 

The gang member immediately found himself moving through a journey through his own life.

Everything bad Ramirez had ever done was laid before him to witness. 

Memories he had forgotten- bullying a classmate, stealing from his mother, assaulting a girl he liked but who didn't like him back, his first time killing a man, the subsequent killings once he was used to murder...

The guilt hit him hard. He felt so sick and disgusted at his actions, to the point he wanted to kill himself.

The Rider's burning gaze pierced through his mind, into his shrivelled and dirty soul.

"DEATH IS A MERCY YOU HAVE NOT EARNED. RELIVE THE PAIN YOU CAUSED A THOUSAND TIMES MORE."

The Ghost Rider declared, and in the real world Ramirez' eyes turned pale and hollow.

He was eternally locked in his mind, forced to feel every bit of anguish until the day his body died. Such was the effect of the Rider's Penance Stare.

Dropping the lifeless body, The Ghost Rider turned his sights on the Warehouse.

"MORE SINNERS TO PUNISH."

Hiding inside, Jimmy and his men took a collective step back. The Rider had began walking towards the entrance.

"Shit...what do we do Jimmy?"

One of his guys asked.

Jimmy grabbed his gun.

"What you asking me for?! Pump the horror show with lead! Don't let that thing in here. Use the heavy stuff. For Ramirez's sake!"

The 6 guys yelled out in confirmation and stepped up, armor piercing guns from the weapon's cache in hand. Jimmy knew how to stoke his men's spirits. They could willingly go to hell and back for him.

And he would too.

While they were throwing everything they had at the Rider, Jimmy knew it wasn't enough and snatched an RPG from a crate.

Outside, the Ghost Rider walked through the hail of bullets which packed enough force to shred apart a tank. 

In contrast, the heavy fire only made the Spirit of Vengeance momentarily stop. 

The chains around its shoulders and hands dropped to the floor. Fire spread down the chain links, hot enough that the air hissed.

"Ah Jimmy...we're out."

One of the men called out in fear, gun lowering- the magazine empty. Same case with the rest. 

"Just a second boys."

Jimmy said over his shoulder, fixing the missile round.

"We gonna blow that son of a bitch back to hell."

The Rider's jaw dropped before the entrance, and a maniacal cackle emanated forth. The men's souls shivered in dread. The laughter was akin to tolls of death. 

A whizzing noise sounded out, and right as Jimmy was turning around, RPG set on his shoulders, the entire front of the Warehouse- from left to right- was sliced through by flaming chains.

Leaving a burning trail behind, his men suffered the same fate as the building's entrance, turned into a red mist that burned up under the oppressive heat.

Jimmy was in disbelief. 

Then came the rage. 

"You fucking asshole! Die!!"

He aimed the RPG at the Rider's form and launched the missile. 

BOOM!!! 

The explosion was close enough that the shockwave threw Jimmy into the air. 

From within the smoke and dust, the Rider's chain flew out, wrapping around Jimmy's torso while still in midair. 

Screaming in terror, Jimmy found himself pulled back, landing right in the clutches of the Ghost Rider, just like Ramirez. 

"W-What are you? Y-you took the missile head on! You should be in pieces, ya freak!"

Jimmy howled, terror gripping him. 

"RELAX JIMMY."

The Rider rasped, 

"I WANT YOU TO SEND A MESSAGE TO YOUR BOSS. THERE'S A NEW PLAYER IN TOWN."

-0-

"Gordon...Gordoon!!"

Harvey's voice reached his partner's ears, rousing him from the ground, amidst a fiery background.

"Huh? Wha- Harvey...what the fuck is going on?! Why is the Warehouse burning?"

The senior detective asked, adjusting his glasses.

"Its the flaming Skeleton Gordo. That thing's taken out everyone!"

Harvey responded with wide eyes, gazing towards the burning Warehouse.

Gordon turned to the same direction, only for a body to smash on the windscreen of the cop car they were hiding behind.

"Shit."

Gordon muttered, checking the body and feeling a very faint pulse. 

"I recognize him. That's Jimmy Tribbiani, Two-face second in command. Cuff him."

Harvey did so, only for the sound of heavy steps to reach their ears. The two detectives turned around and came face to face with the Ghost Rider. 

Harvey raised his gun to point at the Rider but Gordon slapped his hand, leading him to lower it. 

"VENGEANCE HAS BEEN SERVED."

The Rider stated, stopping before the two. 

Gordon found his courage and voice,

"Vengeance? Vengeance is not Justice! Those men should have been brought in, interrogated and sent to prison for rehabilitation!"

The Rider walked past them without a word, causing Harvey to stumble and fall on his fat ass. 

"WRONG PROFESSION DETECTIVE. I DON'T REHABILITATE. I PUNISH."

The Rider threw back almost contemptuously.

Crinkkk....

The chains dragging on the ground were pulled to it's leather clad Skeletal form, wrapping around it's limbs tight and concisely.

"Who- what even are you?"

Gordon questioned as the Hell Ride's door swung open for the Rider.

The Ghost Rider slowly turned it's head, and Gordon made the mistake of staring into its eyes. All he saw inside was an empty void.

'He's not...human.'

Gordon shuddered, almost regretting his question.

"YOUR REPLACEMENT."

The Rider answered, getting in the Hell Ride and with a monstrous roar of engine, the burning vehicle pulled away from the scene, fire left in the wake of its retreat.

Harvey sighed, getting up and doing the sign of the cross.

"Tonight is most definitely not our night Gordo."

As if to emphasize that point, a new but familiar engine sound, came from the opposite street.

A sleek black armored vehicle rushed past them in hot pursuit of the Hell Ride.

"The Batmobile.."

Harvey muttered, staring at Gordon in question.

"You think this will end well for our Bat friend? I mean...that Skeleton ain't one of the usual crazies. He's not human. He's spooky. A vengeful Ghost from hell."

Gordon took that to heart, immediately switching on his walkie talkie. 

"Batman come in."

There was a bit of static, followed by calm breathing.

"Detective, what is the situation?"

"Batman, turn back, don't go after It. I repeat, do not go after the Ghost Rider."

Gordon yelled through the Talkie.

There was a pause. 

"Negative."

Batman grunted,

"No one plays in my backyard without permission."

The connection was cut off, prompting a curse from Gordon.

"Ghost Rider?"

Harvey asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Where did that come from?"

"I don't know. Seemed like a more fitting name than calling it Burning Skeleton."

Gordon shrugged.

-0-

"Alfred, I lost sight of him. His ride is faster than mine."

Batman spoke into his comms, turning around a corner, where the burning tracks left by the Hell Ride suddenly disappeared.

"Oh, is that jealousy I hear in your tone, Master Bruce?"

Alfred teased, his statement making Batman's frown deepen under the cowl

"I need the satellite readings."

Batman told him.

Almost immediately, his navigation system beeped, the map displayed on the screen inside the Batmobile, showing a red signal a block from his position. 

Kicking the car into high gear, the Batmobile tore down the street.

Gotham's skyline was like a jagged shadow against the stormy night sky.

The streets were deserted as Batman drove through a narrow alley, took a sharp turn and zoomed past an intersection on the road. 

Alfred had alerted him that Gordon needed backup, but as he was pulling up to the scene, he had caught sight of the monstrous truck speeding away. 

Earlier reports by a police patrol, cited on a sighting of a burning skeleton tearing through the streets of Gotham. Thinking it was a new villain, Batman decided to follow. 

In no time, he arrived right where the red dot was blinking and found nothing. 

"Alfred, I lost-"

His statement was cut off as he managed to spot the Hell Ride, driving along the side of a skyscraper, leaving a trail of molten glass- all without shattering the windows. 

The Batmobile's engine roared as Batman followed on the ground, determined not to lose the trail. 

The Hell Ride reached the end of the building and dipped towards another one with a lower rooftop. 

It was like a beast, spewing flames from its airhorns similar to a dragon- the flare of fire allowing Batman to maintain sight. 

The end of the block arrived quickly, and the Hell Ride was back on the street, riding down a different intersection. 

Batman gritted his teeth, turning the Batmobile around to follow. He needed a way to stop the target. 

"Alfred, I need a perimeter setup at the docks. He's heading that way," Batman said into his comm.

"Understood, sir. Sending coordinates to the police now." 

Alfred's calm voice replied.

The Batmobile sped up, sirens wailing in the distance. With a turbo charge, Batman was closing in, the Hellfire from the Ghost Rider's Hell ride lighting up the dark street. 

The Rider's flaming skull glanced back, locking eyes with Batman through the rearview mirror. 

Unnerved by the empty sockets, Batman stayed the course behind the truck. 

Finally, they reached the docks, the Hell Ride blasting through the gate at the entrance, and riding past the containers. 

At the end of the docks, it screeched to a halt, spitting embers and smoke, lighting up the rundown warehouses and the bay water. 

Batman pulled up a second later, the Batmobile's tires screeching against the wet concrete, right beside the Hell Rider. 

The Dark Knight jumped out, cape billowing, eyes locked on the fiery figure standing next to the Monstrous Vehicle. 

There was a brief silence as they regarded each other. 

"It's over." 

Batman said, voice firm. 

"No one kills in my city and gets away with it. Come quietly."

The Ghost Rider tilted it's blazing skull, chains rattling. 

"SPIRIT OF FEAR," 

It growled, the eyes seeming to bore deep into Bruce. 

"FEAR IS A PAINKILLER. BUT VENGEANCE... VENGEANCE IS THE CURE."

Batman stepped forward, fists clenched, 

"You're not the judge, jury, or executioner. Gotham's already got enough blood on its streets. The last thing we need is a maniac like you upsetting things, Ghost Rider."

"TELL THAT TO THE SOULS YOU FAIL UPHOLDING A FLAWED SENSE OF JUSTICE." 

the Ghost Rider hissed. 

"And you think killing makes it alright? Makes you a savior? It only creates another murderer that I eventually deal with."

Batman. 

"NOT A SAVIOR. NEVER A SAVIOR. I AM A RECKONING. A TOOL OF PUNISHMENT. I AM NOT HERE TO BRING JUSTICE WHERE YOUR SYSTEM FAILS. I AM HERE TO AVENGE."

The Ghost Rider rasped. 

"YOUR CHILD IS TOO NAIVE BARBATOS."

With that, the Rider lashed out, his chain snapping through the air.

Batman dodged, throwing a batarang that was instantly incinerated by Hellfire from the Rider's mouth. 

The Dark Knight rushed forward, falling back on his martial arts skills. 

He landed a few solid hits on places that would incapacitate a normal person, but the Ghost Rider was unfazed and remained on one spot. Instead, Batman's fists were left pulsing in pain. 

The Rider swung his hand out in retaliation, sending a flaming chain at the Bat. 

Using the wrist blades to deflect the chain turned out to be a bad idea. Batman's forearm snapped at the impact behind the fire imbued chains, and the heat caused his wristblades to melt. 

In a desperate move, Batman lunged forward with a kick to the skull, intending to break the Rider's neck bone with his studded boots. But in speeds to fast to predict, the Rider reacted, catching him and setting their faces inches apart.

"LOOK INTO MY EYES."

The Ghost Rider commanded, voice echoing with dark power.

Batman tried to resist, but the Rider's grip was iron. 

The Penance Stare locked onto him, and beneath the whites of his mask, Batman's eyes widened. 

His world exploded into pain and guilt. He saw every failure, every death he couldn't prevent, every soul he couldn't save. The agony was overwhelming.

He crumpled to the ground, unconscious. 

The Ghost Rider stood over him for a moment, flames flickering across his form. It glanced at the Batmobile, a hint of admiration in the soulless eyes.

"COOL RIDE."

It muttered. 

"I'M TAKING IT NEXT TIME."

With that, the Ghost Rider climbed back into his monstrous truck, the engine roaring to life. 

The hell ride sped off into the night, leaving the Dark Knight unconscious on the cold, wet dock, Alfred's voice calling out to Bruce but to no avail. 

(Michael's P.O.V)

With difficulty I regained my self awareness...outside the parking lot of the Hospital, looking straight at the white paint of an ambulance.

It was still dark out. So hopefully, the night duty nurse hadn't come to my room. 

Speaking off, I studied the ground, then the window to my hospital room. There were no molten tracks on the concrete, including the pavement I had cracked by jumping off the fourth floor. 

As for the room, everything seemed fine from where I was standing. From the Rider's memories, I had left it on fire, with a gaping hole where the window was. 

"Good."

I sighed, looking at my right hand and leg, which were back in casts. 

"Everything went back to normal." 

I guess this proves a theory I had, the Rider's fire was mystical in nature.