Well......

Four Generations of Ghost Rider by Felipe Smith

The catch is… I burn to death every time. Every. Single. Time. It’s not a hot fire. I burn to the bone, and then the rider takes over. It’s not hot, but that does not really matter when you are watching as your flesh melts off of your body, and all you feel is the blinding, screaming pain coupled with the overwhelming guilt. Guilt. I made my deal. I accepted the power, and it has a price. Imagine burning every wrong you ever did to someone off of your soul. Imagine that fire is not hot. It’s just a coldly horrible and cleansing fire. it’s not hot because it’s not burning air. it’s burning sin, and it starts with mine. every single time.

Johnny drinks like a fish, and I cannot say that I blame him. Our family history is not exactly a happy story.

Spider-man variants by Tom Reilly