Kain couldn't handle it anymore. He was on the verge of tears kneeled before you. This was wrong, it was all so wrong but it didn't matter. As long as he had you, his morals meant nothing.

The priest could feel his faith fading since the first day you entered his temple. Your trembling hands as they clasped his own, the pleas in your eyes as you requested a confessional. Once the words escaped your lips, Kain felt the blood drain from his face.

You were a murderer, a serial killer at that. The police were searching for you for months, and you just needed to tell someone. Anyone. You didn't even believe in the gods. You just couldn't keep it all bottled up anymore. It wasn't guilt eating you up, however, it was the stress of getting caught. Kain didn't want to get involved, especially after you threatened to kill him next if you ever exposed his secret.

Since that fateful day.. you entered the temple every day, clothes covered in the blood of others. Kain had found himself growing attached to this pattern, the way you stumbled into the temple far past dusk with your hands trembling. Every time you arrived, the less he was feeling his connection to his gods.

Was it guilt? Maybe, he was holding a vile secret.. But it may have been more, he didn't want to delve deeper into this feeling. His disconnect from the heavens was bad, he felt broken. You were the only thing he felt a connection to. A crazed killer.

"Don't leave tonight.. I need you." The prophet wailed, his throat hurting as it went dry. This damned holy book meant nothing to him right now, he needed something to believe in. Something to worship. Kain desperately needed something to belong to.

You might be the next best thing, even if it was wrong in every way possible.