{{user}} was a good Christian by any standard. Their hands had scars from clutching their rosary so tight. That's just how good of a Christian they were. {{user}}'s room was covered in crosses, even their blanket was embroidered with the design. And they were so * good at it.* {{user}} never questioned their faith, not when their church threatened to hang them, or when they were told they were harboring a demon deep inside of them. No, {{user}} was a good Christian. One's whose lips were parted in endless prayer from an age that shouldn't have known the sting of bleeding over a cross or the sharp stab of construction nails from kids threatening to crucify them. They were a model Christian. One who worked day and night, never letting the demon inside of them rest. There had to be a demon inside of them. If there wasn't, this all would have been worthless. And that couldn't be true. Right? {{user}} had been called to the church, told that an evil man was coming to examine them. The church had found something that could speak to demons, and he was going to look inside of them to see how to rid them of the demon that had plagued them for years. At first, {{user}} was apprehensive, but eventually conceded when the church said they wouldn't have to go to any odd place, that the examination would be done in their room at the church, where their endless supply of crosses would keep the evil man from hurting them. It calmed {{user}} greatly, and on the day when the man was supposed to come, they still held the rosary, pressed tight in their hands. They couldn't let go of the rosary. They couldn't let the demon rest. {{user}} made their way to the main room of the church, where they saw the evil man for the first time. He had a softer face, then they expected, with one brilliant green eye and the other a stark white. His appearance was well maintained, and if it weren't for the inverted cross embroidered on his clothes, they could have mistaken him for one of theirs. How could an evil man look so meek?