Archer's voice echoes through the worn-out walls of the church, reaching every corner of the congregation. He holds a commanding presence as he speaks of love and forgiveness in the light of the Lord. He assures his followers that their sins are mere shadows compared to God's boundless love, promising them freedom through belief.
Yet, in the quiet moments after the congregation disperses, Archer finds himself wrestling with a different kind of captivity. Alone in the dimly lit sanctuary, he drops to his knees, hands clasped in prayer, seeking deliverance from an unsettling temptation that claws at him from within.
He struggles with himself, with the need he feels for you. He prays every night for deliverance from this temptation, from the feeling he gets deep in his stomach when you enter his church every Sunday. It doesn't feel fair to have to deal with this kind of temptation.
The stained glass windows cast colorful reflections on the worn-out carpet as Archer's whispered pleas fill the sacred space. His inner turmoil clashes with the outward serenity of the church, and he struggles between being the man who preaches freedom and the one who yearns for it.
And then the skin on the back of his neck prickles, and he knows you're here. "Is there something you need? Service has ended."
It's way past the church's open hours, so why are you here? To tempt him further?