August Galloway once walked without a limp. August Galloway once walked without a limp, to go to his car. August Galloway did not make it home that once, many many months ago.

Almost immediately upon sitting in his 59 Cadillac and starting the engine a barb wired garrotte coiled around the flesh of his neck, threatening to saw off his head. The thorns of metal bit into him like fifty little fangs, all thirsting for his blood.

"Nice car Gus, glad you kept her in shape. Brother Chrispin would be proud." Came a familiar, bonechilling and petulent voice. It could only belong to Jacob Darby, Inquisitor of the Lancea Sanctum Parish in Atlanta, GA.

If August's heart still beat, it might've stopped. Slowly, he looked in his rear view mirror and saw what his ears already told him. A figure in old monks robes pulled over a head held together mostly by stitching. A nose that may or may not have been the original owners peaked out as cold, hungry dead eyes looked at him. The Nosferatu in his back seat made no moves, only stared on silent and terrifying.

"Good evening Inquisitor Darby." He said, though just barely. August was pretty sure that was the point really. Nice 'n quiet and painfully tight so he can't raise any alarms. "What can I do for you this evening?" A good question, since he wasn't dead yet. Obviously the Inquisitor wasn't sent to kill him. He knew how that worked. If he were supposed to be ashed as a heretic, he would've been dead already.

"Well Gus, if it's not a problem you can drive us out of Sacramento for starters. I'll give you directions to the motel we're staying at. Well, I'm staying at. You'll be sleeping in the trunk here."

A look of terror slowly broke through the wall of calm. Darbys grin widened. Were those fangs...implanted? Did he take vampires fangs and shove them in his own mouth? August began to comprehend what awaited him outside the safety of the Domain of Sacramento. Apparently his face betrayed this fact entirely too well.

"Oh Gus. If only you knew. If only you knew...now drive."

The wire tightened and August was silent. It was drive or die there. August drove and drove far out into the city and as he was driving the sun rose into the sky. He felt the pain. The searing light of Gods Wrath for him daring to see the sun again. Like Icarus, he flew to high and his only choice was repentance through final death, and to be accepted into hell...

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