GHOST RIDER X DEMON SLAYER: Book 1: Imps and Prayers

4-1: Mystical Hangover

Ritsuki's eyes fluttered open as the sound of howling winds reached his ears. The air felt dreadfully dry and hot, and he could tell from the distant sounds of shifting sands how arid his surroundings were.

Coughing out dust which had accumulated in his lungs during the unknown length of time he was unconscious, he winced as he propped himself up with his arms and took a weary sight about from his spot.

He was in the middle of a barren red expanse under an unfamiliar sky; the yellow horizon made him feel uneasy, almost oppressive in its hue. Glancing up, there seemed to be a gaping hole in the sky directly above from where he sat.

All around him, tall and jarring stone pillars erupted from the sands, and there spawned long stretches of black smoke from each of their crowns; the smoke reached the gaping hole in the sky with their height.

The pillars were in a rough line leading down towards where Ritsuki's body was facing, stretching to a mountain of crimson stone where sickly blue clouds gathered near the peak.

Despite the strangeness of the scene he had found himself in, the strangest thing was that this place wasn't unfamiliar. He had been here before.

Shifting around to get up from his seat, he heard the familiar rattle of a blade on his hip, a bit lighter than he was accustomed to. But before he could look down to inspect it, Ritsuki heard the rhythmic sound of a galloping horse approaching from a distance behind him.

Turning back to see a blazing steed and its rider, who was clad in the scarlet armour of a samurai, holding aloft a flaming naginata.

The rider moved with such speed that the boy could not even react when he was upon him.

With immaculate skill and swiftness, the scarlet warrior brought down the flaming blade upon Ritsuki's neck and beheaded him.

The boy never had a chance to voice his shock.

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Ritsuki next awoke in a cold sweat atop a bed, lying under some clean white sheets. Immediately clutching his neck, he felt around his nape and breathed out a dry sigh.

The rust-red desert had all been just a terrible dream.

He blinked out the blur in his eyes and saw that he was under the familiar roof of one of Bizen's two hospitals; deducing that he was at the one closer to the fishery from the salty air.

From the presence of other beds beside him, Ritsuki noted that he was in the casualty ward.

Taking a moment to cough, he gulped down and immediately reeled from the dryness of his throat. It was the same as the first time he relegated control of his body to this... Spirit that resided inside of him.

He could still hardly believe it.

His deal with what he assumed had been with a charitable, yet somewhat peculiar Yōkai turned out to be that he had sold his soul to a powerful demon, or as Niten-san had called it, the literal Devil.

Being educated in mythology from his background in theatre, Ritsuki could not attribute any traits that matched with major evil spirits from myths to the entity he made a deal with. With how Niten-san described him, the entity was most similar to some great evil being from one of those foreign religions.

He would have to ask Niten-san to elaborate once he made another visit to the abandoned town.

Ritsuki looked to his side and found some flowers on the end table along with a note, asking him to alert a nurse if he woke up and no one was around.

"Excuse me," he called to a young nurse making routine checks on the other beds. She turned around and took a small gasp, quickly making her way over to him.