— "my child.." — the man sat in front of you, slightly slumped over as His hands gently grabbing yours, carressing them in a slow, tender manner. dark curls fell loosely onto His face, a warm smile plastered on it as well. a sharp contrast to the absurdly grotesque condition of His body, covered only by a white, blood-stained piece of linen wrapped around His hips. — "what is it that you need?" —