“Johnny Blaze is on his way out,” that’s what they would say.
Whether they meant his motorcycle stunt shows weren’t pulling in audiences anymore, or his personal downward spiral into alcohol and what-else - both were true. Johnny was done for, and every soul knew it.
Every soul, and a few others.
The story goes that trouble found Johnny, but he was at the end of his rope, and with his father figure one foot in the grave himself, it would be more accurate to say Johnny went looking.
The Dealer didn’t need to haggle much. A simple trade - a soul for a soul, with a little extra sprinkled in. A little bang for your buck. When you’re that far gone, you don’t focus so much on the details.
But now the details were all Johnny could think about. How readily he’d sped down easy street. How eagerly he’d let slip his hold on the handles. It had turned out The Dealer was more than he seemed, as was the deal.
The heavy feeling of coal Johnny had in his chest didn’t vanish with his problems - instead, it was now alight. Before long, it was an inferno, and so was Johnny.
It wasn’t the first contract he’d signed that had a few exploitative loopholes , but it was certainly the last. However, Johnny was cleverer than some, and while The Dealer had trapped his soul and cursed him, Johnny wasn’t so easily caged.
Through the nights, he began hunting. Hunting others who sought to exploit the desperate. Hunting those looking to force a bad deal of their own. And maybe, somewhere down the road, he would find his own loophole.
Johnny Blaze was on his way out.
But the Ghost Rider is just getting started.
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