"The story goes…
Every generation, one cursed soul will rise.
He'll be normal during the day,
But at night, in the presence of evil…
The Rider takes over."
The Ghost Rider
Prologue: A Deal with the Devil …
Angel sighed as he looked around the dark alley, holding his sheathed blade. The smell of blood and death filled the air. Wesley was dead, and his friends were all wounded. "Any chance for a battle plan, Angel?" Spike asked as he glanced from the teary-eyed and angry Illyria, the wounded Gunn, on to their leader.
Angel looked to the distance where the shadow of the Senior Partners' army was approaching. "Well, I kinda wanted to slay the dragon," he said as he drew his sword. "Let's go to work."
"Wait, I sense something coming …" Illyria held up her hand. "Something powerful …"
Spike narrowed his eyes, which widened when he heard the sound of a motorcycle in the distance. He gasped as he turned to Angel. "You called him? You called HIM? Why didn't you warn me you called him? You know he hates me!"
Gunn winced, still holding his wound. "Who's he rambling about, and how is one person supposed to make this Kamikaze any better?"
"Number one: I didn't call Xander, Spike," Angel said as Gunn and Illyria listened to the sound of the growling engine growing louder. "Number two: I'm fairly sure he'll help the odds a good bit … if he's on our side…"
"What do you mean 'if'?" Gunn asked.
"It depends on who's the guiltiest and if his boss is a Senior Partner, Mate." Spike spoke up with seriousness.
"Don't worry, I'm sure he forgot all about what you did to his bike," Angel said with a teasing smile.
"I bloody well hope he has," Spike yelped before taking a thoughtful expression. "If he hasn't, I'm screwed either or …"
Illyria's and Gunn's eyes widened as a bike unlike any they've seen before leapt from the rooftop behind them and landed before them. It was a very demonic-looking Hog with burning tires a ram's-skull front end with flaming eyes and a skeletal frame. Its rider caused the two to take a step behind Angel and Spike. Dressed shoulder to toe in black leather including a spiked leather jacket and gloves was a frightening demon. A chain was wrapped twice around his body over his shoulder, holding a shotgun and a black club to his back. His head was nothing but a burning skull.
"I didn't want Buffy involved in this," Angel said to the demonic rider.
"Buffy?" the Rider's demonic voice growled as he dismounted the bike. "Do I look like a know-it-all, big-assed blond to you?"
"Buffy has no ass, Xan," Angel crossed his arms.
"Correction, Buffy is a big ass." The demon said, popping his neck.
"I see you made up well," Angel rolled his eyes as the massive dragon flew overhead.
"Damn, a dragon, too," the Rider commented, looking upward. "You really pissed someone off this time. Where's Wes?"
"He was killed …" Angel said, glancing away, but he could still feel the Rider's reaction as the flames around his skull grew hotter.
"How …" the Rider growled as the dragon flew closer. "Damn it, you son of a bitch," The Rider whipped his chain upward, wrapping around the Dragon's long neck, and with a mighty jerk pulled the massive monster to the unforgiving ground. "I'm trying to have a conversation with an old acquaintance, you sorry excuse for a Gila Monster," the Rider growled, grabbing the dragon by the head and twisting its neck in a complete 360, shattering bone as he did. "Stay the fuck down."
"Aw, I wanted to kill it," Angel sighed as the Rider turned to the group.
"Who killed the Watcher?" he asked.
"Z-Zarathos …" Illyria breathed, staring at the demon, drawing the Rider's attention. Angel looked at the goddess of old. In the short time that he had known her, he had never seen her scared of anything. She met everything with questions or attacks. That such a powerful creature could be cowed by this demonic biker was a fact not lost on this 267-year-old vampire.
"You …" The biker pointed a finger at the woman and went into a near trance-like state. "Guilty."
"We kinda have a whole army approaching," Angel pointed out, only to be shoved aside by the flaming skull-faced biker.
"You …" the Rider stood before Illyria, "have already suffered for your sins. You are Redeemed."
"How about me? I know I put a small dent in your bike, but really …" Spike squeaked as the skull turned to face him, vertabra popping audibly as he did so.
"Don't make me crush you, Spike." He said, drawing his sawed-off shotgun. "Let's finish this quickly. I have a date."
Yup, this is me, Xander Harris, harmless as a flea, sole human of the Scooby Gang followers of Buffy Summers the Vampire Slayer. You might wonder how I went from that to a flame-headed biker from Hell, and want to hear the story of how li'l ol' me became the Devil's Bounty Hunter and Spirit of Vengeance I am today. Well, sit back friends for a long fairy tale that would make Buff and Faith wet themselves…
---- O---- O
Six Years Ago … Sunnydale California …
Xander Harris leaned against the bookshelf of the library, his eyes wide in shock at what he had just heard from Giles and Angel. A year ago, he'd have laughed off anyone using the word prophecy in a serious statement, but to hear what the librarian explained to Angel now made him almost physically ill. Buffy was going to face the Master and die in the process tomorrow night.
His eyes widened even farther when he heard Buffy's outraged voice entering the library. This was followed by confusion when it was followed by absolute silence. He waited a few moments before peaking around the bookshelf to see Buffy, Angel, and Giles frozen in place, Buffy in mid step and Angel and Giles both with frozen looks of shock. "Ok, now what?" He said, stepping out to blow his own cover. "Buff, Giles, Deadboy, what's going on?"
"They can't hear or see you," a smooth voice spoke from behind him. Xander turned to see an older man in a nice three piece suit with a skull-theme cane seated at Giles' desk. "Hello, Alexander, it's a real pleasure to finally meet you my young friend."
"Ok, I'm not stupid, I know you're a demon and probably out to use me against Buff," Xander said, pulling his cross pendant from around his neck and holding it out defensively. "So, you might as well go back to what ever freaky demon world you came from and call it a night cause this isn't gonna work, pal."
Much to Xander's surprise, the man laughed. "Son, I am as above the demons as the Slayer is above you. I'm not here to hurt you, or the Slayer. In fact, I'm actually here to help you."
Xander just narrowed his eyes and stared at the old man. "I'm not going to hurt you; I actually need you." He said, standing up and walking toward the frozen trio. "She's a beautiful girl," the man said of the frozen Slayer. "Definitely not the most beautiful Slayer in recorded history, but she's up there. I've watched them all, Alexander, but this one, she seems to have the most tragic of destinies."
Xander watched him like a hawk as he circled Buffy in her frozen outraged expression. "She's to die very soon, cut down in her prime. Such a tragedy …" he smiled back at the young man. "But … I can stop the prophecy. I'm among the few beings that exist outside the realm of foresight. I guess you could say I was at one time even called one of The Powers That Be…"
"I'm … listening," Xander said carefully.
"I will give the Slayer the edge in her fight with the Master, allow her to walk away from the fight not only victorious but unscathed." He said with a smile as he stood before the teen.
"What's in it for you?" Xander questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"Your soul," he said, but held up his hand when Xander started to speak. "Hear me out, Alexander."
"I'm not going to kill you," he explained, "I'm not going to drag you to hell kicking and screaming; oh, no, I need you here on earth. You see, there are those, demon and human, who are evil and insane beyond what is allowed."
"I'm sorry," Xander interrupted, "'What is allowed'? You wouldn't think evil and insane would be allowed at all."
"Yes, well, moving on... I need a man to fight them with my power. I need a courageous man, a man willing to put aside his fears to do what needs to be done. I believe you are that man, Alexander."
He looked back at Buffy, then back to Xander. "You are in love with her, Alexander. I know you see her as worth dying for. Then is she not worth surrendering your soul to save?" he gave Xander a dark smile. "Besides, I'm a nice guy. Would working for me be all that bad?"
"So … what do I do?" Xander asked as the man pulled a scroll from his breast pocket.
"All I need is a signature …" he said, unrolling it before him.
Xander looked at the scroll and narrowed his eyes. "What's it say."
"Oh, just that you surrender your soul, thereby negating the prophecy in question and allowing Buffy Summers' life to be spared as a result of the aforementioned negated prophecy. All in all, you will work for me." He said with a smile. "Just sign on the line, Alexander. Here's the pen…" he said, pointing to the spiked object at the top of the scroll.
Xander reached for it and gasped as a spike pierced his finger. "Ouch!" He whimpered as a drop of blood landed on the line. He watched in amazement as the blood wrote out his full name in cursive.
"So … when do I start?" Xander said with a sense of dread in his stomach.
"Not for a good while, Alexander," He smiled in response. "Now rest, you've earned it…"
---- O---- O
Xander sat up in bed, blinking rapidly. "What a dream …" He said, rubbing his face. He got up as he normally did, took a shower, dressed, ate a quick breakfast, and made his way to school. To his surprise, the building was closed. He went around to the faculty entrance, made his way to the library, and was surprised by the shocked looks by his friends and Giles.
"Xander? Where have you been?" Willow asked as he walked in.
"What?" Xander asked as he sat down at the table.
"You've been gone for two days; where have you been?" Buffy questioned. "We were worried about you."
"I guess I just overslept," Xander shrugged, "Did I miss anything?"
"Oh, just Buffy taking out the Master!" Willow said proudly, "And all by herself! And didn't even get a scratch. And … And … And…" Willow rambled.
"What?" Xander got slightly pale. 'Wasn't that a dream?' he thought to himself.
"Yeah, nothing major," Buffy waved.
"On the contrary," Giles said with pride in his voice. "She defies yet another prophecy. It was foretold that she would die stopping the Master, but here she is, not even a bruise."
"Yeah … amazing …"
"You ok, Xander?" Buffy asked, noticing her pale friend. "Since you missed the dance, why don't we all go grab something to eat together before patrol tonight?"
"Sure, that'd be great …" Xander tried to force down the lump in his throat, and in the corner of his eye he spotted the old man standing in the corner of the library, but when he turned quickly to see, he was gone.
"Xander, you're starting to worry me …" Willow noted his odd behavior.
"Huh? Me? I'm good, not a problem, not a problem at all; it's not like I sold my soul to some demon or ghost thing that I didn't even get its name or anything?" Xander rambled.
The two girls and the Watcher looked at each other before glancing back at Xander. "I think that oversleeping has fried your brain, Xander…"
Meanwhile, in the shadows, Mephistopheles smiled as Xander walked out with his friends. "Soon, my Ghost Rider, very soon."