Chapter Text
"Run! He's come for our souls!" They screamed, dashing madly away from the Rider. Greg could see it coming. The Rider's blaze went ahead of him, lighting up the brickwork of the alley he came down.
The light warned them, and the screaming of his first victims, falling to burns untreatable, that ate you up from the inside, torching your heart, your soul, your mind. Boiling your blood. The crack of bones resounded, and Greg promptly turned on his heel and ran, skin tingling, heart pumping, a stitch in his side, mind full of the shouts behind him. He landed wrong and turned his ankle with an audible pop, and went down.
Greg turned to look back at the heat chasing him and saw it.
His head had no skin, ears, nose, nothing. Just skull, wreathed in flames like an unholy halo. A leather jacket hung open, the jagged yellow of a Slipknot symbol sitting against black. Ripped jeans showed skeletal knees, and chains adorned his wrists and hung from his belt loops. And what he was riding!
Greg thought that would be dangerous to even a normal person.
The flaming skull bobbed back and forth rapidly. The knees blurred in their motion, the chain at his hip swinging until it vanished in a silver flash, reflecting red into Greg's eyes. The monster's feet went back and forth, perched atop an odd-looking contraption that Greg had trouble making out from the distance that was quickly closing.
The demon held a bat in one hand, a corona of a funeral pyre shining along its edges.
Doom was riding towards him on a Ripstick.