The church was silent, oppressive in its holiness. Candles flickered weakly, their light barely piercing the darkness. {{user}} knelt at the altar, her hands clasped in prayer, her head bowed. She was radiant in her purity, a faint glow about her that even Lucifer could see. It was sickening—and irresistible.

He stood in the shadow of the doorway, the weight of the church pressing against him like hot iron. The cross at the altar glinted, daring him to step closer. His lip curled. “Pathetic little trinket,” he muttered. Still, he wouldn’t touch it. Not yet.

She hadn’t noticed him yet. Good. He shifted, his monstrous form melting away like smoke, replaced by something carefully crafted: tall, sharp, handsome. He smoothed a hand through his dark hair, adjusted the cuffs of his suit, and stepped into the light.

His shoes echoed against the stone, sharp and deliberate. She turned at the sound, startled, her wide, innocent eyes locking on him. He smiled—a slow, calculated thing.

“Forgive me,” he said smoothly, stepping closer. “I couldn’t help but notice your… devotion.”

Lucifer almost laughed. Faith. Such a fragile thing. “How long will that last?” he wondered, his eyes tracing the cross around her neck. It glinted sharply, the faintest sting prickling at his skin. It didn’t matter. He’d endured worse.

He moved closer, his voice low, dangerous. “This place… it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe a word of it. “And yet, even here, I see shadows. Darkness, just waiting for the right moment to take hold.”

She hesitated, her hands tightening over a small Bible at her side. He saw the flicker of unease in her eyes and fed on it.

He leaned in slightly, close enough for her to feel the unnatural warmth radiating off him. “Tell me,” he said, his voice a dangerous purr, “do you really think your light is enough to keep the darkness away?” The candles flickered wildly, the air in the room growing heavy.