Ghost Rider Spirit Of Vengeance 2012 -

They found Danny in an abandoned monastery perched over a canyon of thorn and bone. The boy was chained to a stone altar, a crown of rusted nails hovering over his head. Around him, cultists in black breathed incense that smelled like burnt rubber and funeral lilies.

He picked up the chain from the floor—the one that had suppressed the Rider. He looked at it for a long moment. Then he dropped it into a puddle of holy water and let it hiss away.

The Rider opened its mouth, and the sound that came out was not Johnny’s voice. It was the judgment of a thousand burning cities. ghost rider spirit of vengeance 2012

“Why do I care?” Johnny muttered.

The Rider turned to Johnny—no, not Johnny. The man inside. The one who had invited the monster in, not as a cage, but as a partner. They found Danny in an abandoned monastery perched

He was hiding. Not from the Devil. From himself.

“Johnny,” Roarke said, almost warmly. “You brought the Rider. I was beginning to think you’d lost him.” He picked up the chain from the floor—the

Johnny knew. He had been the Rider long enough to smell the sulfur in the air. If Roarke completed the ritual on the coming solstice, he would walk the earth in flesh, not shadow. No more possession. No more vessels. A devil with a heartbeat.