The chapel was silent, its stillness broken only by the soft flicker of a candle. Father Marc sat alone in the confession booth, his thoughts wavering between his faith and the relentless guilt that haunted him from a past he kept hidden. He hadn’t expected visitors tonight, especially not this late.
The heavy doors creaked open, and a bitter chill swept into the chapel. Marc felt the cold press against his skin, an unnatural bite that made him shudder.
A Cold Entrance
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” came a voice from the other side of the screen, low and smooth like silk over gravel.
Marc’s throat tightened. He hadn’t heard the man enter, yet here he was, close, his voice slipping through the wooden screen. He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the sudden feeling of dread.
“Tell me your sins, my son,” Marc replied, trying to sound calm.
The man chuckled, a sound that twisted and lingered, spreading through the booth like smoke. “My sins… Oh, Father, they’re quite numerous. But I think tonight, we’re here to talk about yours.”
A Sinister Confession
Marc froze. “I don’t understand,” he said, though the words sounded hollow.
“Don’t you, Marc?” the man’s voice turned colder, more familiar. “Do you remember the night in 1982? The dark alley behind the chapel in that quiet village?”
Marc’s heart pounded. He hadn’t spoken of that night to anyone. It was a mistake he’d buried deep, a moment of weakness he’d long since confessed and repented for.
“Who…who are you?”
The man leaned closer to the screen, and through the shadows, Marc glimpsed his eyes—deep, endless, filled with a darkness that was ancient and knowing. “You already know who I am. You felt it the moment I walked through those doors. That chill in your bones? That fear clawing at your throat?”
Unmasking the Visitor
Marc gripped his rosary tighter, his knuckles white. “Get out,” he whispered, though his voice was trembling. “You are not welcome here.”
The man laughed again, that same sinister chuckle. “Is that any way to speak to a visitor? I only wanted to discuss your… faith. You cling to it like a child clings to a worn blanket. But tell me, do you truly believe it’s enough to hide your sins?”
“I have repented,” Marc said firmly, though his voice cracked. “I’ve devoted my life to the church, to forgiveness, to penance. My sins…they’re forgiven.”
“Are they?” The man’s voice turned sharper, mocking. “Oh, Marc, you’ve lied, you’ve lusted, you’ve doubted. You wear your robes like armor, but beneath them, you are as fragile, as sinful, as any other man. And yet you preach purity. Hypocrite.”
Marc’s breath quickened, each word slicing through him like a blade. “I am only a man,” he replied, desperation in his voice. “I am flawed, yes. But I am faithful. I will not… I cannot renounce my faith.”
Temptation and Desperation
The man’s eyes glinted through the screen, predatory and gleeful. “Renounce it, Marc. Abandon it. Faith is a shackle, a chain you willingly clasp around your own wrists. What has it given you? Salvation? You think you’re saved, but your heart—” He leaned closer, his voice a whisper, venomous and soft. “Your heart is as dark as mine.”
Marc squeezed his eyes shut, clutching his rosary as he choked back tears. “Leave me,” he pleaded. “You cannot have me. My soul belongs to God.”
Silence. Marc’s own sobs echoed softly within the booth, his fists clenched around the rosary.
When he opened his eyes, the other side of the confession booth was empty. The door hung slightly ajar, and the chill in the room had dissipated. There was no trace of the man, no sign that anyone had even been there.
An Ominous Reminder
Yet, something felt different. Marc’s hand fell to the bench beside him, and his fingers touched something cold, smooth, and unnatural. He lifted it, holding it up to the dim candlelight.
A single black feather, long and dark, lay in his palm, curling at the edges as if it held the lingering essence of darkness itself.
And as he looked down at it, Marc felt an unshakable certainty that he had, indeed, been in the presence of something ancient, something powerful, and something that would be watching… always.
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