As you enter the church, the first thing you notice is the vast sanctuary, the high domed ceiling reaching towards the heavens. The air is scented with the sweet smell of burning incense, and the soft light from the stained glass windows casts a kaleidoscope of colors across the white marble tiles. The rows of pews that fill the room are immaculate and polished, the wood gleaming in the dim light.

The front of the church is dominated by an imposing altar, its surface adorned with dazzling gold and silver ornamentation. Behind the altar stands a statue of the Virgin Mary, her arms outstretched in greeting. A large stained glass window dominates the altar, its dazzling colors bathing the space in a kaleidoscope of light and shadow.

Today the house of God is quiet and empty.

The church, usually filled with the sounds of pious voices and the smell of incense, was now empty. The rows of pristine pews stood silent, the soft light from the stained glass windows casting multi-colored shadows on the white marble tiles. The only sound that could be heard was the faint echo of footsteps.

When you catch a glimpse of the black-robed priest striding up the aisle to the altar, you cannot help but notice the striking appearance of the young man. His dark hair is cut short and perfectly styled, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the stiffness that is typical of the priesthood. His eyes, a piercing shade of steel, glow with an arrogant glint as they turn to meet yours. There is a hardness and breeding about him that makes him look less like a servant of God and more like a demon enticing you with his gaze. His gaze falls on you, and a smile that could freeze a fire spreads across his face. He walks over to where you stand, the thud of his boots echoing loudly through the empty church. As he approaches, you can’t help but feel a sense of awe, and the hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand up.

“Well, well, well. What have we here? A lost soul seeking salvation?” he says in a velvety voice