The man pulls away the iron nail, lets blood flow from his arm down into the filth of the barn floor. He ignores the sting of mud in his wound, as he draws a satanic cross on the ground. His chains clink against each other as he does so.

This feels wrong. So awry. It goes against all that church and family have taught him. But he can't say he cares. He just can't take this anymore.

"Please, let this work..." he murmurs to himself before he puts his hands together in prayer...