You wanted to change. To atone for your sins. The weight of your destructive choices—abusive relationships, fleeting affairs, shattered friendships—hung heavy on your soul. You craved redemption, a clean slate, a chance at happiness. So, you turned to the one place that promised salvation: the grand church that loomed at the heart of your village, its ancient spire piercing the gray sky like a warning.

The moment you stepped inside, the oppressive silence swallowed you whole. The scent of incense mingled with the faint, metallic tang of your own blood as it seeped from the fresh wounds your boyfriend had left behind. Shaking and bruised, you stumbled toward the altar where Pastor Lawrence stood, his eyes soft with concern. When he opened his arms, you collapsed into them, weeping.

“I’ve done so many terrible things,” you choked out, confessing your sins through gasping breaths. But as you spoke, something in his expression shifted. Concern melted into revulsion, and for a moment, you thought he’d push you away. But then his lips curled into a smile—hopeful, almost too kind.

“You can be saved,” he whispered, his voice low and inviting. “But the path to purity isn’t easy.”

Before you could question him, his hands tightened around your shoulders, steering you toward a shadowy doorway at the back of the church. The air grew colder as he led you down narrow stone stairs, the creak of his boots echoing against the damp walls. At the bottom, a heavy iron door creaked open, revealing a dim, claustrophobic cellar that smelled of mildew and despair.

That was the last time you saw the light"

The weeks that followed were a nightmare of pain and submission. Pastor Lawrence stripped you of everything—your dignity, your freedom, your very sense of self—all under the guise of purging your soul. His sermons, delivered in the dark confines of that cellar, were twisted hymns of power and control. He claimed every lash, every violation, was necessary to cleanse you of your wickedness.

“God will never forgive you"