Somewhere near Sweetwater, Texas, Sunday afternoon.
Johnny needed to get away.
He didn't know where or why (although he was pretty sure that how was answered by "on a motorcycle") but he needed to get out of here. Hid Dad was dead and he was pretty sure that it was his fault. He threw his packed bags of the back of Grace (which was officially his now since his Dad had given it too him) and rode off at a breakneck speed.
It didn't matter where he was going. It didn't matter how fast. He just needed to go so that he wouldn't think anymore about how his choices had left his Dad dead.
Lightning struck the road in front of Johnny and thunder crashed overhead. A snarling, twisted face, mouth filled with fangs, seemed to jump out of nowhere. And in the wake of that face, there was Mephistopheles, standing gravely yet calmly in the middle of the dirt road.
Johnny yelled as he lost control. He slammed down on the breaks, but the bike started to topple over onto its side and slammed to a halt. Johnny was thrown off with a sudden jerk, and skidded painfully over the gravel road at a speed high enough to break bones. He finally came to rest in the middle of a rural crossroads.
Mephistopheles leaned forward on his cane, regarding Johnny coolly.
He wasn't going to let the boy go nearly so easily.
"You're no good to me dead," he informed him, slowly, tauntingly.
Johnny pushed himself up onto his feet. His skin was sore and scrapped from where he'd hit the road, and he could feel a sense of rage building up in him at the stranger's mocking tone. He stared at the old man with eyes full of anger and pain, and pointed an accusing finger right at the stranger's heart.
"YOU. You killed him."
He didn't need to explain who he meant.
"I cured his cancer," Mephistopheles replied coldly. "That's what I promised. That's what I did."
A cruel smile worked its way onto his lips.
"The rest, I left up to you."
It's rude to point, Johnny.
He liked pointing. It helped get right to the point of what he was trying to say.
Johnny's face paled. Up until this moment, he'd wanted to put the blame on the accident on the stranger. That fight they'd had before the last show -- was that the reason his Dad died?
Was that what the old man had planned all along? Johnny felt ill at the idea.
He swore aloud and charged at the man, intending to punch him right in the face.
But Mephistopheles wasn't there.
No, he was right behind Johnny when the boy had turned around, and not at all amused.
"One day, when I need you, I will come. Until then, I will be watching." Thunder rolled overhead, a fitting overture to their little drama on the crossroads.
He reached forward and shoved his fingers into Johnny's shoulder.
"Forget about friends. Forget about family." An orange glow spread from his fingertips. A demon of vengeance. This boy would be his puppet. "Forget love."
It was perfect.
"You're mine, Johnny Blaze."
A wind whipped up around them, throwing dust at the two. And when the wind subsided, Mephistopheles was gone.
It hurt.
It hurt more than anything Johnny had felt before. It felt as though the old man was blazing fire through every pore of his body, burning every single cell in its own fire. Smoke started coming out of his eyes. He wanted to move, but his body wouldn't react.
For a moment he could swear that there was a second mind in his head, that was just as angry as he was, and it roared through his mind before disappearing into nothingness.
The wind whipped up, and he fell to his knees. The old man was gone. He was all alone at the crossroads with his bike, Grace, both of them lying on the hard gravel.
The stranger's words echoed through Johnny's head.
"You're mine..."
NFI due to distance. Preplayed with way_black.