Chapter 7: Devil's Hellfire.

10 advance chapters on P@treon.com/Saintbarbido.

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Gotham was Gotham, until it wasn't.

Jim Gordon had seen a lot in his time with the GCPD, but nothing quite like tonight.

Fortunately, Zatara and Manhunter had intervened. Now someone else could deal with the headache that was the Ghost Rider.

As for him, he had a prisoner to deliver. But as he approached the prisoner transport truck , the uneasy feeling in his gut twisted tighter. The back door of the fallen vehicle was ajar. Not a good sign.

He pulled the door open with a creak, only to find the inside empty. His gut feeling solidified into cold, hard dread.

"Damn it!" he spat out, pounding a fist against the metal. "He's gone."

Beside him, Bullock shook his head in disbelief, the stub of his cigarette dropping from his lips,

"If this day gets any worse—"

As if on cue, the sky above roared, a blast of hot wind sweeping down as a dragon, of all things, blazed past them, its scales crackling with blue fire.

Gordon's coat flapped violently in the sudden gust, and Bullock's second cigarette was sent flying, leaving him gaping at the sight.

The Rider's figure was prominent on its back. A beacon of vengeance loose in his city.

'The heroes failed.'

Gordon realized.

"Well, that answers that," Bullock mumbled, eyes still fixed on the sky. "It just got worse."

---

Old Gotham was a place where time stood still, clinging to its dark, gothic roots. Most of the city's businesses had fled the crumbling district years ago, leaving behind abandoned buildings and shadowed graveyards. But the courthouse, looming beside an old cathedral, still had its uses—at least, for Two-Face.

Jimmy Tribbiani was already regretting his life choices as he approached the guards outside the courthouse. They gave him a nod in recognition, though not without a suspicious glance or two- he suspected he knew why. Failing Two-Face once was the same as failing him a million times. In other words, it made no difference to the psychotic villain.

The cold welcome aside, he hurried inside, now wishing he was anywhere else. But the boss had to know. Jimmy owed him that at least.

The courtroom had been turned into a bizarre reflection of its occupant's fractured psyche. One side, plush and orderly, mimicked a lawyer's office. The other side was a sleazy strip club, complete with dim lighting and cheap furniture. And right in the middle of it all, sprawled across a split-colored couch, sat Two-Face, a living embodiment of the madness around him.

He lounged back, feet propped up on a bound and gagged man's back, watching as two dancers twirled before him—one dressed as an angel, the other a demon.

"Beautiful! Just marvelous!"

Two-Face clapped, his voice a mix of glee and malice.

"The duality, the contrast! Pure entertainment!"

His henchmen, dressed in matching black and white suits, cheered and hooted in agreement.

"But you know what, boys?"

Two-Face leaned forward, his tone shifting. "Someone here...might disagree."

The bound man, Officer Graves, began to shake uncontrollably as Two-Face revealed a coin in his hand, its worn bronze surface catching the dim light.

"Heads, you live. Tails, well..."

Two-Face chuckled darkly.

"You know the drill."

He flipped the coin high into the air. Graves watched it as though his life depended on it—because it did.

It landed with a soft clink in Two-Face's palm. He grinned—a wicked, uneven grin that spread wider on the scarred side of his face.

"Tails."

Before Graves could even begin to beg for his life, Two-Face's golden revolver was out, and a single, deafening shot echoed through the room.

Jimmy winced, his eyes fixed on the lifeless body as it slumped to the floor.

"Boss, I—"

"Oh, Jimmy! Long time no see!"

Two-Face interrupted, his tone unnervingly cheerful as he wiped the blood off his shoe. "Come here, boy. I could use some good news after... this mess."

Jimmy forced a smile as he approached, trying not to look at the gun still smoking in Two-Face's hand.

"Yeah, about that..."

Two-Face's expression darkened instantly. "You came back empty-handed. No money, no weapons. What exactly are you bringing to the table, Jimmy?"

Jimmy swallowed hard, the room suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter.

"We had a... a situation. Scarier than the Bat."

"Scarier than the Bat?"

Two-Face repeated, skeptical.

"The cops call him the Ghost Rider, but he's more like a Demon."

Jimmy blurted out.

"He took out the whole team. And then, when I was being transported to Black Gate, he attacked again. Probably took out a lot of cops too. I barely got away."

Two-Face's fingers twitched around the handle of his gun.

"The Rider, huh? We heard about him. Thought he was a rumor. Can't trust anyone these days, you know. Even long term 'loyal' employees."

He poured himself a drink.

"So I'm curious, how DID you manage to survive? Or rather why did he let YOU alone live?"

Jimmy hesitated, knowing how this would sound,

"He... He said something. Told me to send a message."

"And what message was that?"

Two-Face asked, his voice dangerously low.

Jimmy took a deep breath.

"'You're next.' That's what he said."

The room fell into a tense silence. Two-Face froze. Then, one of the henchmen snorted, and soon the room erupted into laughter.

"Bullshit."

someone muttered, followed by a chorus of agreement.

But Two-Face wasn't laughing. He stared hard at Jimmy, his mind working through the possibilities.

"You think I'm stupid, Jimmy? You think you special? A nameless goon? He just happened to kill everybody else but decided to let you walk?"

Jimmy's mouth was dry.

"To deliver the message. To make sure you knew he was coming. Boss, I ain't lying."

Two-Face's coin was out again, spinning between his fingers.

"If the Rider wanted me dead, he'd be here. He wouldn't leave a warning. Or wait a fucking week, you little rat. You're working for Penguin, ain't ya? Admit it!"

Jimmy opened his mouth to deny but nothing came out, he was too stunned. In addition the gun was back at his head.

Two-Face's eyes narrowed, the scarred side of his face twitching.

"Silence is the same as an admission of guilt. Let's see what the coin thinks of your little story."

The coin flipped into the air, spinning higher and higher.

Suddenly, the skylight above shattered. Glass rained down as something heavy crashed through, landing in the center of the room with a bone-chilling thud.

Everyone froze.

A skull wreathed in blue flames glared at them from the center of the debris, its empty eye sockets glowing with an unholy light.

"BOO."

The voice was deep, guttural, like it had clawed its way out of the depths of hell. One of the dancers screamed, the shrill sound snapping everyone back to reality.

"That's him! That's the Rider! Light him up!"

Jimmy yelled, diving for cover as the henchmen instantly opened fire.

The room exploded with the sound of gunfire, bullets tearing through the smoke-filled air. But the Rider didn't flinch. The bullets seemed to burn on impact, any that landed on his chains bounced off.

"STOP!"

Two-Face bellowed, his voice barely cutting through the chaos. His couch was shredded, but somehow, he was still alive, having shielded himself with the body of one of his unfortunate henchmen.

The shooting stopped.

Through the haze of gun smoke, Two-Face caught a glimpse of the Rider. It was still standing, untouched, its gaze locked on him.

"THERE YOU ARE."

"Men! Reload and finish this freak!"

Two-Face ordered, desperation creeping into his voice.

"A million dollars to whoever brings me that skull!"

But even as the henchmen scrambled to obey, the air grew thick with heat. The walls began to glow with a fiery red hue, and the ground beneath them trembled.

A deep, guttural roar filled the air, followed by a cracking sound. The ceiling split open as a massive, flaming dragon's head crashed through, its jaws snapping shut around several henchmen in one terrifying bite. Blood and flames spewed from its mouth, the bodies inside turning to ash in seconds.

A few tried to run away in panic, only for the Rider's chains to claim their souls, turning them into a bloody steam and scorched remains.

Jimmy, half-crouched behind a table, felt his heart hammering in his chest, still traumatized from a week ago.

The dragon, its body coiled protectively around the Rider, glared down at him with red molten eyes. It growled, a low rumble that shook the walls.

"Oh hell no..."

Jimmy didn't need to be told twice. He turned to flee, only to find the exits blocked by a wall of blue flames.

He froze, terror washing over him. The dragon's gaze shifted to him, and he felt his muscles lock in place.

"Ma, I should have listened to you and never become a goon, "

Jimmy whimpered, too scared to move.

Two-Face, covered in the blood of his men, staggered to his feet amidst his ruined lair. Self preservation took a backseat to Indignant anger.

He pulled out his other gun, a silver revolver, the special one which carried bullets meant to deal with Gotham's freaks.

"My suit... my base... You're going to pay for this, Rider!"

With a trembling hand, he fired an ice bullet straight at the Rider.

The bullet hit its mark, freezing the Rider's head in an instant. Two-Face's lips curled into a triumphant sneer.

"Yeah, that's right, freak. Ice bullets. Your flaming ass is done!"

An acquisition from Mr. Freeze, the ice bullet didn't simply lower the temperature of its target, it froze the molecules themselves. There was a reason Firefly and Atomic Skull kept their nose out of Two-Face operations.

But the victory was short-lived. The frozen skull cackled within the chunk of ice which promptly shattered, evaporating into steam within seconds.

The Rider simply shook his naked skull, relighting it on flames, before resuming his approach.

Two-Face's confidence shattered. He emptied the rest of his clip at It, using variations of his special bullets; acid bullets, explosion bullets, Rust bullets, even a Kryptonite bullet. But each shot- was useless, melting before they could even pierce his hellish form. The ones like a bullet to discharge lightning merely tickled the Rider, flashing across the leather.

Panic took over, and Two-Face stumbled backward, tripping over the debris.

"Do you know who I am? I'm Two-Face! I'll—"

The Rider loomed over him now, its presence suffocating, its eyes glowing with Infernal hollowness.

"ANOTHER VICTIM."

The words echoed through the room, and with a flick of its chain, the Rider severed Two-Face's wrists, the gun and coin clattering to the floor.

Two-Face howled in agony, collapsing onto his knees.

"My hands! You took my fucking hands!"

The Rider bent down, picking up the discarded coin, holding it in front of his victim.

"HEADS YOU DIE, TAILS YOU LIVE."

Two-Face's eyes widened in desperate hope.

"Yes! Yes... I'll take those chances!"

He leaped at the opportunity, eyes locked on the coin as it tumbled through the air, each spin seeming to drag out the moment into eternity. Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, his breath hitching with every turn.

The coin landed.

Tails.

It wasn't his time yet.

A chuckle of relief escaped the villainous crime boss, his shoulders slumping as a sneer twisted his scarred features.

"Hahaha...The coin has spoken, the world still needs me. You can't deny Fate, Rider. "

The Ghost Rider remained silent.

At that, a gloating grin replaced Two-Face's sneer.

"Now what, Vigilante? you take me in? Just know, once I get out of prison, I'll make your life a living hell."

"REDUNDANT. WE ARE ALREADY IN HELL."

The Rider's voice boomed, the blue flames around him surging with a violent intensity, consuming everything in their path as they crept closer to Two-Face.

"No... that wasn't the deal! You lied! You lied!!"

Two-Face cried out in fresh panic, looking around in terror- for a path to salvation. He saw one, and tried to run away only for the searing whip of chain to lash out, breaking his legs and sending him crashing to the ground in agony.

They coiled around him like snakes, hoisting his body in front of The Rider. He struggled, against the chains, but it was no use. He was powerless, dangling in the air, forced to meet the gaze of the Spirit of Vengeance.

"THERE ARE WORSE THINGS THAN DEATH; MY JUDGEMENT."

"You think you can judge me?"

Two-Face spat, voice dripping with venom. "You have no idea what it's like to be betrayed by your own face, to be broken in half!"

"YOU CHOSE TO REMAIN BROKEN. THAT IS WHY I CAME. NOT TO FIX BUT TO JUDGE AND PUNISH. LOOK INTO MY EYES, SINNER."

Two-Face's eyes widened in terror as he felt his mind being pulled into the abyss of the Rider's Penance Stare.

Memories surged forth, twisted and distorted by the flame's unforgiving light. He saw himself, once a proud district attorney, fighting for justice. Then came the acid, the pain, the betrayal. But the images didn't stop there. They showed the other side of the coin—every life he had destroyed, every person he had hurt in his quest for vengeance. The screams of the innocent echoed in his mind, growing louder and louder until they were unbearable.

But just as the agony reached its peak, it stopped. The fire in the Rider's eyes dimmed, and Two-Face found himself back in the burning building, still suspended by the Rider's chain. He was gasping for breath, his heart pounding in his chest, the weight of his sins pressing down on him like a leaden shroud.

The Rider tilted his head, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"I WOULD PITY THE MAN YOU ONCE WERE, HARVEY DENT. A MAN WHO LOST EVERYTHING, HIS SOUL TORN ASUNDER BY TRAGEDY."

Two-Face blinked, confused by the sudden reprieve. But there was no mercy in the Rider's voice, only cold disdain.

"BUT I SEE YOU NOW, AND ALL I SEE IS A COWARD. A WEAK, PITIFUL WORM, SQUIRMING IN FILTH, BLAMING THE WORLD FOR YOUR SCARS. YOU PUNISH OTHERS FOR YOUR MISTAKES, HIDING BEHIND YOUR COIN, PRETENDING IT DECIDES YOUR FATE."

The chains released him, and he collapsed to the ground. The flames around the Rider flared once more, but this time, they burned with contempt rather than wrath.

"YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF MY VENGEANCE."

the Rider hissed, his words laced with disgust.

"YOU ARE NOT EVEN WORTHY OF THE PUNISHMENT I WOULD DELIVER. TO LET YOU WALLOW IN YOUR OWN DISGUSTING UNWORTHINESS... THAT IS PUNISHMENT ENOUGH.."

The Rider turned away, walking through the wall of fire that obediently parted for him. He paused, casting a final, pitiless glance over his shoulder.

"ONLY A FOOL MAKES A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL AND EXPECTS HIM TO KEEP HIS WORD."

Two-Face had no words left, only the crushing weight of despair as he lay there, broken and beaten. The only thing left was the coin, tossed back to him by the Rider. Desperately, he clawed at the ground, trying to reach it with his crippled hands as the flames closed in, sealing his fate.

---

Minutes later, Commissioner Gordon and half the GCPD arrived on the scene, finding nothing but a scorched grounf where the Courthouse building once stood.

"What happened here?"

Gordon asked, his voice heavy with concern.

One of the officers, pale and shaken, replied, "The firefighters tried everything, but the flames wouldn't die. It only stopped when the whole building was reduced to ash. People are calling it the Devil's Hellfire."

Gordon sighed deeply, the weight of the night pressing down on him.

"And the Rider?"

The officer's face blanched further as he recalled the scene,

"My partner and I were the first on the scene. We got here just in time to see a giant Lizard on flames take off, the Rider on its back... and a man, screaming for help, clutched in its claw. We think it was Jimmy Tribbiani."