Would you go to hell to save the one you love? Everywhere Galaxy Steele goes, a monster seems to follow leaving behind nothing but chaos and destruction. It's not until Galaxy is framed for burning down her school and a police station, that she is...
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Galaxy arrived at 63 Galhoul Lane much later than she was no doubt expected.
Her flight from Future City had thankfully been an uneventful one, though she'd kept her head on a swivel for any sign of danger the entire time.
She'd boarded the plane first with the other passengers from First Class, and when she'd landed had been promptly reunited with K9. Her poor dog looked none to happy to have been without her for their first plane ride together, as he'd been much to large to have fit under her seat.
The only strange occurrence had been when she'd hailed for a taxi to take her to her destination.
A driver with the world's worst goatee had pulled up for her at the airport, and when the man had turned to her and asked "Where to, Ms. Steele?" she'd realized two things.
One, she hadn't told the man her name.
And two, his eyes were the same tinge as Officer Skullface's had been.
Not only that, but his welcome name tag read "HELLO! MY NAME IS: GO TO HELL HUMAN!!!! Exclamation points and all.
She'd practically leapt out of that car and into another one, screaming for the driver to take her to 63 Galhoul Lane as fast as the speed limit warranted.
Thankfully her second taxi driver - a normal, average human - had obliged, though the whole ride there he'd cautioned her against heading to the address her father had provided, recommending the town's movie theatre or arcade for a "lovely little girl such as herself" to be dropped off at.
"It's haunted", was all he'd said when she'd asked him why he was so insistent on not driving her to the address she'd been given.
What's so haunted about a school anyway? Galaxy had thought.
An hour later when they'd arrived, the man rather reluctantly let her out of his taxi, but not before he'd given her three cards. The first card was an emergency line to call for help, the second a number for the nearest exorcist in town, and the third for therapy services should she ever feel the need to talk to someone about anything disturbing she may see - all three surprisingly free of charge.
She'd thanked him rather sheepishly before the taxi had sped off, burning rubber in its wake.
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