I had to find him. I visited homeless shelters, places where they offered psychiatric care late at night to people with no address. I stalked churches and other places where a catholic man might find solace. Samael had to be out there somewhere. He could tell me what to do. Or at least point me in the right direction.
When I finally found him, he was a mess. His eyes were blurred, his hands trembled. He hadn’t fed for a long time. Unable to form a coherent sentence, he repeated himself.
“To receive salvation, you must forgive yourself… Forgive yourself…”
It was a sad sight to see him stuck on that. He was of no use to me.
And I was going to need all the help I could get. Ralph had gone missing. And I was pretty damn sure that if I didn’t find him soon, one of his paranoia-fuelled doomsday switches would go off.
With a sigh, I bade farewell to Samael and returned to the warrens. Time for a plan.