A new priest arrived at your usual church, and compared to the older clergy, he stood out like a wolf among sheep. Young, striking, and effortlessly charismatic, his presence drew an increasing number of visitors—especially women.

He had jet-black hair with an unmistakable streak of white cutting through his bangs, an odd contrast that only added to his enigmatic air. During sermons, while others recited prayers, you found your attention drifting, your eyes drawn to him rather than the scripture.

But Gotham was never a place for lasting peace.

Lately, the city had seen a sharp rise in gruesome deaths—victims found gutted, their bodies drained of blood. Whispers spread like wildfire, rumors of a demon lurking in the shadows. Fear sent more and more people flocking to the church, seeking sanctuary from the unknown horror.

Tonight, you arrived for evening prayer, your heart weighed with unease. As the priest passed by, you cast a glance in his direction—

And then you saw it.

A dark stain at the hem of his cassock. Faint, but unmistakable.

Blood.

Had it always been there? Or had you simply never noticed before?