Mr. Begote
Ghost Rider Vol.1 #3 The Spider
As I walk out into the streets, I see the man dressed in red and black. Noble. Brave. But not responsible. No... He hasn't earned that yet. Peter Parker learned those principles early. This man just stops the crime, under any circumstance. Not thinking what will happen.
Something unexpected happened though. A strange alien jumped out of a window. A.... a demon. I feel the heat from under the fake skin that is shown on the outside. It burns like paper, and floats away in the wind. My eyes fall out, and all that's left is the devil's crony. I walk to the thing, and see the man follow after me.
He looks at me, confused, and then looks at the creature again. An interesting mind.
I grab the creature, and drain the liquid organism from his blood. I feel it in me. It's rage. It's feelings.
I quickly burn it in my body. I hear it scream. It pleasures me.
The man in red and black just stares as I do this. The man the creature possessed looked dazed. I raise my hand, and fire surrounds him. He is quickly transported to Hell. The "hero" looks me in the eyes, and leaps at me. I only grab his throat and throw him to the ground. I easily send him to Hell. He's done many unjust things.
I follow them down to the underworld, and find the hero. He tries reasoning with me, saying he's not supposed to be here. Then he argues.
"Who do you think you are?" he asks.
"That's a good question."
It's 1968. One year after the Rider was born. I walk the streets of Washington, waiting for the King to arise. It's April 3rd and the streets are crowded. I walk into Mason Temple, and see the King himself. He's getting ready.
"Thank you very kindly my friends..."
I sit down in one of the booths. I sign with the father, the son, and the holy spirit.
"Something is happening in Memphis..."
A woman sits next to me, and after signing, kneels. She is elderly, in her 80's. She will never see the day where whites and blacks become equal.
"I would see Plato, Aristotle, Socrates...."
She begins to cry. I only stare with blank eyes. Emotion does not come easily to me. She stands up, possibly hoping to see the King himself.
"The Nation is sick."
She walks out of the booth, and through the front door. I sign, and follow, to hear the words, "We want to be free."
Once outside I see her on the steps. She's ready. She's seen death in the face. But so has the King. That's why I'm here. The King was to fall. But this woman.... she was not destined to. Yet, here she was on the steps.
She leans forward, allowing herself to be beat up by the grueling stairs. Men and women rush around me, to see the woman at the edge of the steps. She never touched the ground.
The King comes out of the church, as he is finished with his speech. He sees the woman on the steps, and closes his eyes. He mumbles words, and walks on. He brushes my shoulder, and stops to say his word. I agree it was an accident, and I wish him good fortune. This will not come.
April 4th, 1968 Martin Luther King was assassinated. I was there to show him the steps to heaven.
The speech had gotten to me. "We all want to be free." I wanted freedom. Yet, for years, decades, centuries, I was trapped. While in Mason Temple, I felt free. Free, and with people around me who felt the same. I couldn't even remember my name then. It had been to long, without using it. Who am i?
The hero mumbles more words at me. I just do as I am told, and tell him his destiny. He looks as if he has seen a ghost, and turns to wipe a tear.
I transport him to the world from where he came from, and watch him walk off.
I decided to do the same. Walk away, that is. Discover who I am. Who I was. I started my course, and walked down the steps.
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Ye, as you can tell there is a lot of symbolism and themes in here. This is more of my "literature" stories I guess. Oh well.
Ghost Rider Vol.1 #3 The Spider
As I walk out into the streets, I see the man dressed in red and black. Noble. Brave. But not responsible. No... He hasn't earned that yet. Peter Parker learned those principles early. This man just stops the crime, under any circumstance. Not thinking what will happen.
Something unexpected happened though. A strange alien jumped out of a window. A.... a demon. I feel the heat from under the fake skin that is shown on the outside. It burns like paper, and floats away in the wind. My eyes fall out, and all that's left is the devil's crony. I walk to the thing, and see the man follow after me.
He looks at me, confused, and then looks at the creature again. An interesting mind.
I grab the creature, and drain the liquid organism from his blood. I feel it in me. It's rage. It's feelings.
I quickly burn it in my body. I hear it scream. It pleasures me.
The man in red and black just stares as I do this. The man the creature possessed looked dazed. I raise my hand, and fire surrounds him. He is quickly transported to Hell. The "hero" looks me in the eyes, and leaps at me. I only grab his throat and throw him to the ground. I easily send him to Hell. He's done many unjust things.
I follow them down to the underworld, and find the hero. He tries reasoning with me, saying he's not supposed to be here. Then he argues.
"Who do you think you are?" he asks.
"That's a good question."
It's 1968. One year after the Rider was born. I walk the streets of Washington, waiting for the King to arise. It's April 3rd and the streets are crowded. I walk into Mason Temple, and see the King himself. He's getting ready.
"Thank you very kindly my friends..."
I sit down in one of the booths. I sign with the father, the son, and the holy spirit.
"Something is happening in Memphis..."
A woman sits next to me, and after signing, kneels. She is elderly, in her 80's. She will never see the day where whites and blacks become equal.
"I would see Plato, Aristotle, Socrates...."
She begins to cry. I only stare with blank eyes. Emotion does not come easily to me. She stands up, possibly hoping to see the King himself.
"The Nation is sick."
She walks out of the booth, and through the front door. I sign, and follow, to hear the words, "We want to be free."
Once outside I see her on the steps. She's ready. She's seen death in the face. But so has the King. That's why I'm here. The King was to fall. But this woman.... she was not destined to. Yet, here she was on the steps.
She leans forward, allowing herself to be beat up by the grueling stairs. Men and women rush around me, to see the woman at the edge of the steps. She never touched the ground.
The King comes out of the church, as he is finished with his speech. He sees the woman on the steps, and closes his eyes. He mumbles words, and walks on. He brushes my shoulder, and stops to say his word. I agree it was an accident, and I wish him good fortune. This will not come.
April 4th, 1968 Martin Luther King was assassinated. I was there to show him the steps to heaven.
The speech had gotten to me. "We all want to be free." I wanted freedom. Yet, for years, decades, centuries, I was trapped. While in Mason Temple, I felt free. Free, and with people around me who felt the same. I couldn't even remember my name then. It had been to long, without using it. Who am i?
The hero mumbles more words at me. I just do as I am told, and tell him his destiny. He looks as if he has seen a ghost, and turns to wipe a tear.
I transport him to the world from where he came from, and watch him walk off.
I decided to do the same. Walk away, that is. Discover who I am. Who I was. I started my course, and walked down the steps.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ye, as you can tell there is a lot of symbolism and themes in here. This is more of my "literature" stories I guess. Oh well.