(A/N):
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Demontee's half-melted face trembled as he watched the corrupted bullet—
His lord's blessed fragment—
Fail to do anything.
His mouth twisted.
Twich~
"...."
First confusion.
Then disbelief.
Then pure rage.
He spat out in Portuguese:
"Fdp! Como isso é possível!?"(Son of a—! How is this possible!?)
He lifted the rifle again, hands shaking—
Trying to aim for the skull, the spine, ANYTHING—
But he never got the chance.
Before he could blink—
CLANG~
"...."
A FLAMING, BONE HAND clamped around the rifle's barrel.
The metal shrieked under the pressure, bending like hot wax.
Demontee looked up slowly—
"...."
And stared directly into Ghost Rider's face.
The Rider was inches away—
Though he had been across the hall only a second ago.
The skull tilted sideways with a slow, cracking sound—
CRRRK—
CRKKK—
A mocking gesture.
A challenge.
A predator's smirk.
Then—
Ghost Rider inhaled.
And ROARED straight into Demontee's face.
"RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"
The roar was not sound.
It was an explosion of hellfire, pressure, and judgment.
It blasted Demontee's body like a hurricane—
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
He was thrown backward—
Slammed so violently into the ink-covered wall that the shadow coating rippled like liquid…
THUD.
…then swallowed him whole as if it were a portal made of pure darkness.
The black ink pulsed—
Like something behind the wall was eating him.
Ghost Rider didn't watch him a second longer.
He pulled the chain from his jacket—
The links glowing white, then red—
Then catching full hellfire flames—
FWOOOOM—
And he began swinging.
Not with anger.
Not with effort.
But with a slow, terrifying joy.
He laughed—
Deep, echoing, monstrous.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—!"
To the hooded servants,
Each spin felt like the sky splitting open.
Ghost Rider snapped his wrist—
CRAAASH!
A flaming arc of chain carved through three cultists—
Their robes bursting into ash mid-scream.
The others charged anyway—
Dozens, maybe more—
Muttering foreign prayers, clutching reverse crosses—
Their numbers kept multiplying, crawling out of shadows, out of walls,
Out of black puddles on the floor.
The whole bungalow felt alive—
Like the darkness itself was birthing new servants every second.
Time was running out.
Inadu hissed,
Hiss~
"He's summoning more—too many!"
Caroline pulled the three boys behind her.
Vimal whimpered.
Raghavan puked.
Srinivasan prayed under his breath after this incident he would recoil with his twin brother.
And then—
SHRRRAAAAAA—
A violent shiver ran through the entire bungalow.
Ink shot across the ceiling.
Shadow veins spread over the walls.
The air shook—
And from the same ink-portal that swallowed him—
Demontee stepped out.
But not as before.
His robe was gone.
His skin was cracking like burnt paper.
The black ink had merged with the veins of his body,
Crawling under the skin like living worms.
His half-burnt face twisted with fear…and hatred.
"...."
Something was controlling him deeper now.
Then—
Outside the broken windows—
A fluttering sound.
Thousands of bats,
Pouring out of the night sky like black rain,
Smashed into the bungalow from every direction.
Inadu's eyes widened.
"...."
Caroline tensed.
"...."
The boys screamed.
The bats didn't behave like normal creatures.
They moved as one—
As if guided.
Swarms circled
Demontee, forming a vortex around him—
Feeding him power.
Ghost Rider watched,
Flames reflecting off thousands of tiny eyes.
Demontee raised his ink-coated arms—
His voice layered with something inhuman.
"O CEGADO REI ACEITA MEU SACRIFÍCIO… AGORA ME LEVANTE!"(The Blind King accepts my sacrifice… now raise me!)
The bats screeched—
Ink exploded from Demontee's skin—
And the bungalow began to shake—
Cracks ripping up the walls and ceiling—
Crack~ Crack~
As something massive ancient devouring tried to manifest through him.
Ghost Rider tightened his grip on the chain—
His skull flaring white-hot—
And laughed.
"RARARA!"
"GOOD…"
He stepped forward.
Flames ignited the ground beneath his feet.
"…NOW I CAN BURN YOU…"
He cracked the chain once—
The sound was like thunder rolling through hell.
"…AND YOUR KING."
The bats didn't just circle Demonte—
They lifted him.
Thousands of wings beating in perfect,
Unnatural rhythm, swirling like a black cyclone that carried him upward until he hovered above the ruined hall like a crowned ghost.
"...."
"...."
"...."
His eyes, once white—
CRACK—
CRACK—CRACK
Split like brittle glass.
And then emptied into bottomless void.
A hollow darkness where life should have been.
A voice came from his throat—
But it wasn't his voice.
Not even close.
It was deeper.
Older.
Distant, like something speaking through a tunnel carved from centuries.
And it spoke in Portuguese, echoing with layered tones.
"Quem é você…? Não ouse bloquear meu caminho para a divindade."(Who are you…? Do not dare block my path to godhood.)
Srinivasan and Vimal clamped their hands over their ears from the pressure of the voice.
Raghavan dropped to the floor,
Trembling as the hall vibrated.
But Ghost Rider?
He didn't move.
"...."
Didn't flinch.
He simply tilted his skull.
Even for the others who could not see—
Ghost Rider's vision could.
Behind Demonte, towering above him, wings stretching like jagged shadows—
A dark silhouette stood.
Not fully here.
Not fully formed.
Not yet.
The Blind King.
The "uncrowned god" Demonte worshipped.
The very entity that ate the souls of victims,
That hollowed people into puppets,
That turned curses into living things.
It loomed behind Demonte—
Its hollow crown dripping with shadows,
Its head bent like it was too large for the room.
Demonte raised his hand,
The shadow mimicking him—
As if the god was preparing to reach through him.
Caroline tensed.
"...."
"...."
Inadu's breath caught in her throat.
The three boys clung to each other in pure terror.
"...."
"...."
"...."
But Ghost Rider?
Ghost Rider raised a single flaming hand—
And gave the Blind King's shadow…
A full, deliberate middle finger.
Even the bats faltered for a second in the air.
Demonte blinked—
No longer knowing how to process what he had just seen.
A Demon's voice hissed behind him,
Reverberating through his skull, irritated and confused.
And then Ghost Rider spoke—
His voice a booming, hell-born growl that shook the air.
"YOU WANT GODHOOD?"
Ghost Rider spread his arms wide,
Flames erupting behind him.
"COME AND GET MY BLESSING."
A step forward—
Fire cracked the floor.
"I'LL CLEANSE EVERY SIN IN YOUR SOUL."
His skull flared brilliant red—
Mocking.
Defiant.
Ready.
"START WITH THIS—"
He pointed at the towering shadow behind Demonte.
"—FUCK. YOU."
The Blind King roared—
ROOOARRR!!!
A piercing, ancient scream that shattered every remaining window in the colony.
And Demonte, now fully possessed by the god's wrath,
Surged downward like a demonic comet—
Bats screaming.
Black flames erupting.
Shadow arms extending.
Ready to collide with the Ghost Rider.
For a heartbeat,
Everything in Demonte Colony went motionless—
As though the abandoned mansion itself was inhaling.
Then—
BOOM!
Demontee lunged,
No longer moving like a man but like a puppet pulled by a furious powerfull demon.
Black ink erupted from every wall, forming spears, tendrils, mouths, and screaming faces.
Ghost Rider surged forward to meet him.
The collision ignited the hall in hellfire and shadow.
Bats screeched overhead, diving at Ghost Rider in a spiraling swarm.
But the Rider simply swung his flaming chain once—
WHOOSH—
KRRRRSHHHH!
A circle of hell flame expanded around him,
Reducing the corrupted bats to ash mid-flight.
Demontee snarled,
His voice layered with the Blind King's rage.
"SUBMETA-SE A MIM!"(Submit to me!)
He flicked his wrist.
Black ink shot across the floor like living snakes.
Erasing the tiles, spawning shadow-servants from the stains.
Grotesque figures crawled out.
Some armless.
Some faceless.
All soulless.
They charged.
Ghost Rider didn't retreat.
He stomped the ground—
THOOM!
Hellfire tore upward,
Forming a fiery shockwave that vaporized the first wave of servants instantly.
"...."
The Blind King's shadow towered behind Demonte, roaring without a mouth.
Every window shattered,
Every candle extinguished.
The three boys outside the boundary fell to their knees.
Caroline staggered back.
Inadu gripped the air,
Forming glowing sigils to shield them.
But Ghost Rider walked through the storm like he was walking through fog.
THUD. THUD.
"...."
Demontee suddenly split into six overlapping shapes,
Each radiating a different aura—
Fear, rage, grief, despair, hunger, madness.
Illusions.
Each one whispered.
"ELE É NOSSO… ELE É NOSSO…"(He is ours… he is ours…)
Ghost Rider tilted his skull.
Creak!
"...."
The illusions attacked at once.
Claws—
Ink—
Shadow bites—
Distorted screams—
All converging on him.
For a moment, the entire hall disappeared in a blinding swirl of darkness.
Then—
"...."
FWOOOOM!
Ghost Rider burst upward,
Spinning with his flaming chain like a burning cyclone.
Illusions shattered.
Ink sizzled.
Shadow arms recoiled, shrieking.
Even Demonte staggered,
Unable to comprehend how this creature.
This skull of fire—
Walked untouched through the powers of a half-manifest demon.
The shadow behind Demonte grew larger—
Trying to step into the physical world through his vessel.
For a second,
The Blind King's hand—
Massive, taloned, smoking black—
Began to pierce reality behind Demonte's shoulder.
Every light died.
The colony shook.
Even Inadu whispered, shaken.
"If that thing comes through… Chennai won't survive the hour."
Ghost Rider turned.
Hellfire blazed brighter—
And the Blind King recoiled.
"YOU'RE NOT COMING THROUGH THIS DOOR,"
The Rider thundered.
He cracked his chain.
It struck the Blind King's half-formed hand.
The entire shadow screamed—
A sound ancient, furious, and wounded.
The giant hand crumbled into dust.
Demontee choked, collapsing backward—
"...."
His shadow connection weakening.
But he still crawled up again, possessed rage burning.
"THIS IS NOT MY FULL POWER… HUMAN MONSTER… YOU HAVE NOT SEEN—"
Ghost Rider grabbed his face mid-sentence.
"I'VE SEEN ENOUGH."
He smashed Demonte's skull against the wall—
CRACK!
Hellfire burning through the ink like acid.
The wall cracked.
"...."
Black ink bled out like dying veins.
The Blind King roared again—
Furious, disbelieving.
His influence was being forced back.
But then—
A distant bell rang.
All at once—
The air froze.
Everything stopped.
Not even the torch flames moved.
Caroline whispered.
"3 AM…?"
Inadu's eyes widened.
"It's the hour their ritual loses form. They cannot stay manifested."
Demontee's body jerked unnaturally.
All the servants froze mid-crawl.
"...."
"...."
"...."
All the ink tendrils stopped mid-strike.
Then—
FSSSSHHHH!
Every one of them dissolved into black smoke.
Demontee glared at Ghost Rider one last time—
A hateful, humiliated stare.
For the first time, the Blind King's voice trembled.
"VOCÊ… NOS VÊ."(You… see us.)
Then Demontee's entire body disintegrated into a cloud of dark dust—
Sucked back into the shrinking cracks of the wall—
Vanishing like a nightmare pulled into a drain.
The black ink withdrew—
Crawling back into every fissure of the broken mansion—
And disappearing completely.
The hall returned to silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
No bodies.
No blood.
No demons.
Just the burnt mark of Ghost Rider's hellfire across the floor…
…and three trembling friends who had no idea how close they came to vanishing forever.
The storm outside quieted.
The shadows melted.
The last of the ink retreated into the walls.
Silence swallowed the Demonte bungalow.
Srinivasan, Vimal, and Raghavan dropped to their knees—
Shaking, sweating, but alive.
For the first time in hours, they felt the air in their lungs stop trembling.
"Da…"
Vimal whispered.
"I think… it's over."
Raghavan nodded quickly, wiping tears.
Nod~
"Over… over… over… thank god—"
But before the word "god" fully left his lips—
A voice boomed through the entire colony.
A voice without direction.
Without source.
Without mercy.
A voice as old as the curse itself.
"ISTO NÃO ACABOU…"(This is not over…)
The ground itself hummed.
"SEIS ANOS…"(Six years…)
The boys froze.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Even Caroline stiffened.
Inadu clenched her jaw.
Ghost Rider—
Still flaming—
Did not move.
The voice continued,
Dripping with arrogance and certainty.
"EM SEIS ANOS… EU VOLTAREI."(In six years… I will return.)
A whisper that felt like a knife dragged against bone.
"E ESTAREI PREPARADO. VOCÊS NÃO ME IMPEDIRÃO… DE RECOLHER MAIS SERVOS."(And I will be prepared. You will not stop me… from taking more servants.)
Then—
S I L E N C E.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Like the Blind King had never been there at all.
The hellfire around Ghost Rider sputtered,
Then burned steady.
He didn't roar back.
He didn't threaten.
He just…
snorted.
Snort~
"...."
A single, dismissive burst of flame from the nostrils of his skull.
An insult.
A promise.
Then—
PFFWHOOOM—
He turned back into Jojo in a puff of black smoke and falling embers.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Six years,"
Jojo muttered.
"Yeah, sure. Add it to my calendar."
Caroline gave him a look, half annoyed, half exhausted.
"Can you take anything seriously for ten minutes?"
Jojo ignored that and turned to her.
"Caroline,"
He said.
"The pendant. Bring it."
She nodded automatically and patted her pocket—
Nod~
Only to freeze.
"...."
Her expression went white.
"…It's gone."
Raghavan's eyes widened.
"G–Gone? What do you mean gone?! It was right there!"
Caroline checked again, then again—
Pocket after pocket.
Nothing.
Not even a thread.
Jojo let out a slow breath.
"As expected."
Vimal swallowed.
Gulp~
"What… what do you mean?"
"It wasn't a keepsake,"
Jojo said.
"Or treasure. Or heirloom."
He looked at the cracked walls where the ink once slithered.
"It was a cursed anchor. A conduit."
"Bound to Demonte. And to the Blind King."
Caroline's jaw tightened.
"So it can just… teleport?"
"It can move,"
Jojo corrected.
"Anywhere it wants. To anyone it wants."
"A cursed object doesn't stay with the person who steals it—"
"—it stays with the one it chooses."
Raghavan felt sick.
"So the pendant… it left us because…?"
Jojo finished the sentence:
"Because the Blind King called it back for now."
Meanwhile...
Chennai International Airport...
Departures Terminal...
10 minutes before takeoff.
Father Sal walked briskly through the glass corridor—
Rosary beads clacking softly,
Rainwater dripping from the hem of his cassock.
He stopped suddenly.
"...."
A cold shiver hit the base of his spine.
His breath froze.
Something… ended.
Something ancient.
Something that, in his mind, should never have been disturbed.
His face turned corpse-white.
Without even looking around,
He pushed into the nearest restroom.
Inside, the fluorescent lights flickered from the storm.
Father Sal staggered to the sink,
Gripped its edge with shaking fingers,
And splashed ice-cold water onto his face.
Splash! Splash!
He lifted his head.
"...."
Stared at his own reflection.
His voice trembled.
"Who… who could stop it…?"
"The sacrifice… the lineage… centuries of devotion…"
His pupils shrank in fear.
"It cannot be broken. It cannot. It cannot!"
He leaned closer until his breath fogged the mirror.
"The Blind King will not be pleased…"
His lips twitched into a twisted prayer.
"He must… he must show me the path. The right offering. A pure nun. A womb fit for the unborn king."
He pressed both palms to his forehead.
"But no matter how much I search…"
"No chosen vessel answers His call…"
His voice dropped to a whisper—
A desperate plea that crawled out of madness:
"Guide me, O Blind King… Show me Your chosen mother…"
The restroom light flickered violently.
A faint whisper brushed his ear.
A promise.
A direction.
His face snapped up, eyes wide with revelation.
"Yes…"
"Yes! I understand."
"I must return to Italy.We must hurry the preparations."
He grabbed his small suitcase,
Rushing out of the restroom and toward Gate 12,
Nearly crashing into passengers as he whispered.
"The ritual must begin… The womb must be found…"
His silhouette vanished into the boarding tunnel.
Demonte Banglow....
Jojo stood outside the Demonte Colony bungalow,
Srinivasan, Vimal, and Raghavan trembling behind him.
His phone vibrated sharply.
He looked down.
SARA (A.I.) informed him.
"I have located the target. Father Sal Tedeschi detected on airport CCTV. Currently boarding Flight AI571 to Rome. Takeoff in 10 minutes."
Jojo's eyes narrowed.
Frown~
"...."
His jaw clenched.
Caroline stepped beside him.
"What is it?"
Inadu's dark eyes flashed.
"Something serious?"
Jojo inhaled deeply, the scent of burning ink still clinging to the air.
"Father Sal,"
He said simply.
"He's at the airport. Flight to Italy. Ten minutes."
Raghavan and the others shrank back instinctively,
As if Jojo's anger alone radiated heat.
Inadu took a step closer to him.
"What do we do?"
Jojo slipped his phone into his pocket calmly.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N):
Thanks for reading the chapter!
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