Avengers 2000

Avengers 2000

Disclaimers: All characters are property of Marvel Entertainment and henceforth Disney, I don't own anything here.

Spoilers: some for the movies specified in the Fandoms ticket

Somewhere in the States

The alley was a smoldering graveyard of destruction, the air heavy with the acrid stench of blood and charred flesh. Blade’s boots crunched over the wreckage of what had once been a makeshift vampire nest—splintered crates, shattered bottles, and heaps of ash. He’d been tracking this group for days, methodically closing the distance. But someone else had gotten there first.

Standing amidst the carnage was a figure shrouded in shadow, his leather jacket scorched and frayed at the edges. Chains, faintly glowing with residual heat, hung loosely in his hands.

Blade’s grip tightened on his sword as he stepped forward. “Johnny Blaze,” he said, his voice low and measured. “The Ghost Rider, I presume.”

The man turned slowly, his face sharp and etched with fatigue. Despite the weariness in his expression, there was a simmering intensity in his eyes. “And you must be Blade,” Johnny replied, his gravelly voice calm but guarded. “Relax. I’m not here to take your job. This was... an unplanned stop.”

Blade’s eyes narrowed, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. “Unplanned?”

“Yeah.” Johnny gestured at the ashen remains around them. “I was following a lead. Something personal. These bastards jumped me first.”

Blade’s gaze sharpened. “A lead?”

Johnny hesitated for a moment, then spoke. “Roxanne. She asked me to find someone—her brother. Crash, Jr.”

“Crash, Jr.?” Blade echoed, raising an eyebrow. The name meant nothing to him. “Sounds like a real piece of work.”

Johnny nodded grimly. “He’s trouble. Gambler, drunk, makes bad choices. But he’s family. She thought I could help.” His tone darkened. “Problem is, he’s gotten himself tangled up with people worse than me. That’s how the vampires found me—asking questions in the wrong places.”

Blade’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Looks like they picked the wrong guy to ambush.”

Johnny let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah. They learned the hard way.”

Blade relaxed slightly, though his posture remained cautious. “I’ll handle the cleanup here,” he said, his eyes scanning the destruction. “But if you find yourself in my territory again, make sure it’s intentional.”

“Fair enough,” Johnny replied, his tone even. He turned to leave, but then paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Good hunting.”

Blade watched as the Ghost Rider disappeared into the shadows, his fiery chains fading into the night. Blade’s instincts told him their paths would cross again. Next time, it wouldn’t be by chance.

Tarleton’s Clinic

Johnny Blaze had shifted back to his human form by the time he reached the rundown clinic. Located in the grimiest part of town, the building exuded decay, its crumbling facade blending seamlessly with its surroundings. He knocked on the warped wooden door, the sound dull against the humid air. No answer.

Knocking again, Johnny felt unease creep into his gut. Tarleton wasn’t the type to leave his business unattended.

Leaning against the wall, Johnny scanned the empty street. The neighborhood was silent, save for the distant hum of traffic. People here didn’t talk, especially to strangers. He sat on a cracked curb and waited, the minutes dragging into hours as the oppressive sun dipped behind the skyline.

Finally, movement stirred across the street. An elderly woman peered out from behind her faded curtains. After a moment’s hesitation, she shuffled out onto her porch, her gait slow and labored.

“You lookin’ for the doctor?” she asked, her voice rough but steady.

Johnny nodded, rising to his feet. “Yeah. Tarleton. You seen him?”

The woman glanced around nervously, her eyes darting to the shadows. She lowered her voice as she spoke. “He’s gone. Left a few days ago. Took some patient with him—a young man. Looked like death warmed over.”

Johnny’s pulse quickened. “What did he call him?”

“Crash,” the woman said simply, her face unreadable.

Johnny’s jaw tightened. “Where did they go?”

She shook her head. “No one knows. Just up and vanished. Last I heard, Tarleton was working with some out-of-towners. Shady types. You might try the docks. Folks say strange things happen there after dark.”

Johnny gave her a small nod. “Thanks.”

The woman waved him off, retreating to the safety of her home as Johnny turned and walked purposefully down the street. His gut told him she was right—the docks were his next destination.

As the horizon swallowed the last of the daylight, Johnny’s resolve hardened. If Crash was alive, Johnny would find him. And if Tarleton or anyone else had played a part in making his life hell, they’d have the Ghost Rider to answer to.

The Docks

The docks were shrouded in a thick fog, the air heavy with the mingling scents of saltwater, rust, and decay. The quiet was oppressive, broken only by the occasional lapping of water against steel pylons and the faint, distant hum of machinery. It was the kind of place where secrets thrived and people vanished without a trace.

Johnny Blaze moved cautiously, his boots crunching against the gravel as he wove through a maze of shipping containers and looming warehouses. Every nerve in his body was on edge. Something wasn’t right. The air itself seemed charged, like the electric stillness before a storm.

Then, he saw it. A small, nondescript building tucked behind the larger structures, its dim lights barely cutting through the mist. The logo on its side made his blood run cold: AIM.

Johnny’s jaw tightened. AIM—Advanced Idea Mechanics. Of course it had to be them. If AIM was involved, it meant Crash’s situation was far worse than he’d imagined.

He moved closer but stopped abruptly as a sound reached his ears—a faint shift in the shadows. Footsteps, deliberate and steady.

Johnny turned to see a familiar figure emerging from the mist. Blade. The Daywalker moved with predatory grace, his black trench coat rippling as he approached, his sharp eyes glinting in the dim light.

“I knew it,” Blade said, his voice low and firm. “AIM. Makes sense now. I’ve been tracking disappearances here for weeks. Thought it was vampires. This? This is worse.”

Johnny’s fists clenched. “They’ve been experimenting on people. They’ve got my lead.”

Blade nodded grimly, his expression dark. “Then we end this. Together.”

Inside the Facility

The AIM facility was sterile and cold, the clinical white walls illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights. Johnny and Blade moved in silence, their footsteps muffled against the smooth floors. The air was heavy with the hum of machinery and the faint, metallic scent of blood.

Room after room revealed horrors: rows of glass tanks holding twisted, inhuman forms; surgical tables splattered with blood; and monitors displaying streams of data on grotesque experiments.

Finally, they reached a large lab at the heart of the facility. Several people were strapped to operating tables, their bodies marred by scars and mechanical implants. Among them was Crash. His body was barely recognizable, riddled with burns and cybernetic grafts. He lay unconscious, his breathing shallow and labored.

Johnny’s gut twisted as he approached. Crash looked broken, a shadow of the man he once was. Nearby, Blade sifted through a pile of documents and scowled.

“Project M,” Blade said, his voice edged with disgust. “Looks like they’re trying to perfect the process by fusing people with machines. These people—they weren’t volunteers.”

Johnny didn’t respond. His focus was on Crash, who stirred weakly as Johnny knelt beside him.

“Johnny...” Crash’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes fluttering open. “You found me...”

“I’m here,” Johnny said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. “We’ll get you out of here.”

Crash shook his head faintly, his face etched with pain. “No... it’s too late for me. They... injected me. The serum... it’s killing me.”

Johnny’s jaw tightened. “You’re not dying here. Not like this.”

Crash gave a faint, bitter smile. “You’re... the Ghost Rider now. A spirit of vengeance... Avenge us. Make them pay...”

Before Johnny could respond, Crash’s body convulsed violently. His eyes closed, and his breathing stopped.

Blade approached, his voice quiet but firm. “He’s gone.”

Johnny stood slowly, his fists clenched as rage boiled within him. His body began to change, flames flickering in his eyes as the Ghost Rider emerged.

“They’ll pay,” Johnny growled, his voice inhuman. “Every last one of them.”

The Fight

The sound of alarms erupted, and guards poured into the lab. Johnny’s chains ignited, roaring to life as he lashed out, flames consuming everything they touched. Blade moved like a shadow, his sword slicing through the air with lethal precision.

The guards were no match for them. Ghost Rider’s fiery vengeance tore through their ranks, while Blade’s ruthless efficiency left no survivors. Together, they were an unstoppable force, cutting through the heart of AIM’s operation.

Amid the chaos, Johnny unleashed his wrath on the facility itself. Machines melted under the heat of his flames, and walls crumbled as the fire consumed them. Blade’s sword struck with unrelenting fury, destroying the lab equipment and data.

The Aftermath

As the flames engulfed the building, Johnny and Blade stood in the wreckage, their silhouettes framed by the inferno. The bodies of AIM’s victims lay among the ruins, their suffering finally at an end.

Johnny looked down at Crash’s lifeless form, his expression grim. “He didn’t deserve this.”

“None of them did,” Blade said, his tone cold but resolute. “But AIM will pay for it.”

Johnny’s chains smoldered as he turned away, his voice low and menacing. “This isn’t over. AIM has more to answer for. And I’m not stopping until they’re finished.”

Blade nodded, his sword glinting in the firelight. “Then let’s hunt.”

Together, they disappeared into the night, the flames of vengeance still burning in their wake. The war against AIM was far from over—but the reckoning had begun.

TO BE CONTINUED...