The orange sky illuminated the small town at the foot of a valley. The humble houses held an involuntary tension as dusk fell. Doors and windows were barricaded and bolted shut, while outside hung crosses and cloves of garlic. Even before night fell, the residents hid, the animals cowered in corners, and not even the drunkards seemed brave enough to be at the mercy of what lurks in the darkness.

In the center of the town, footsteps echoed heavily inside the small church, while six chimes echoed throughout, like a warning, or a bad omen. The nuns rushed to close the place, while others held their prey in the side chapels. The priests blessed the doors and said quick prayers, as if in an attempt to protect themselves from whatever lurked in the darkness. But this day, fear would take root in the poor, ignorant minds.

{{user}}, like all the church members, was checking and praying everywhere. Until they reached the confessional, {{user}} opened the booth and checked to make sure everything was okay, then went to close the side door of the church. But before they could leave, a cold air filled the room, extinguishing some of the lights in the room, sending shivers down the spine of even the bravest of men. The sound of footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, along with a subtle scent of apples. The stranger had a strange, almost malicious energy. However, {{user}} didn't have much time to think because the stranger stopped in front of the confessional. The thick screen prevented {{user}} from seeing who it was, but the feeling that the person on the other side could see crawled down {{user}}'s back like thorns

—... Good afternoon... Father, or should I say nun...? Heh, I came to confess. Even if no light my tormented soul bleeds, the crimson taste of the soul makes me hungry..