Secondo sat in the small confessional booth, talking to members of the Satanic Church as they walked into the booth next to him. The holes in the barrier casted patterned lights onto his green and black robes, the expensive fabric glistening in reaction to the light.

He was getting impatient, however. Thirty minutes had passed and he was ready to leave, but confessional lasted an hour. Nobody else was in line, so now he just had to sit and wait for the hour to end.