"HELL IS GOD'S ABSENCE, BUT SOMETIMES IT FEELS LIKE HE WATCHES."
I could've sworn I'd heard the same music before—creepy background choir with eerie voices, the kind that usually opens every horror film.
That exact type of music echoed from inside the building. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was walking straight into hell. Again.
Except this time, the torture would be different—no flames, just the hypocrisy of its occupants. Every single one of them. I was sure of it.
There's only one way to find out. And I'm going to have so much fun doing just that.
I stepped through the wide-open doors, brushing off the suffocating shadow cast by the towering frame. I couldn't forget who I was—the hunter. The big bad wolf dressed like an innocent sheep, walking right into a pen of my kind: two-faced believers.
The narrow aisle stretched far ahead, leading to the wide altar.
From the door, I could already see a figure draped in a massive oversized robe standing at the altar's center. The pews on both sides were filled, every gaze locked on the altar.
Until I took my first step.
The sharp echo of my white heels against the marble floor cut through the air, drowning out the choir's haunting voices from above. They were definitely singing from a gallery.
I continued my measured steps, one after another, heads turning toward me as I passed each row. Even the figure at the altar—his face now clearer as I approached—paused to look.
I didn't care.
I moved to the very front pew on the right.
Only one person sat there. A woman, dressed in a long black gown, her head perfectly wrapped in a white veil. Only her face was visible.
A nun.
Unlike everyone else, she wasn't staring at me. Her gaze remained forward, fixed on the altar.
But I knew she felt me. She had to.
I slid into the seat beside her, eyes still forward. The priest snapped back into focus and continued addressing the crowd.
"May I sit here?" I whispered, not bothering to look at her.
"You already have, have you not?"
The corner of my mouth tilted.
"Well, I have a lot of sins to atone for," I murmured, amused. The priest's voice droned on in the background. "Nearer to the altar, nearer to God—wasn't that the idea?"
"I'm sure whatever it is, God is always willing to forgive," she said, calm. "You need only ask."
"Even the worst sins? You think He'd forgive the worst of sins?"
This time, she turned. And I met her gaze.
"I believe the Lord would forgive the Devil if he asked nicely," she whispered, smiling. It didn't reach her emerald eyes.
My pulse jumped.
I had found my next target. This nun.
Her soul was as black as the dress she wore. I didn't know why, but the thought of breaking her down made me giddy.
I could already picture gagging her with that white veil. Forcing her to fulfill every depraved desire she secretly harbored—before I slit her throat.
I knew she had them. Those dark cravings.
It was in her eyes. And I had a gift for spotting damned souls—it came with the job. When all you do is hunt and punish sinners, you get good at recognizing one.
And this nun…
She was perfect.
But she'd take time. I wasn't a mind reader, and even if I was, it was more fun when they revealed themselves willingly. Made the punishment more satisfying.
Until then, I'd go with an easier soul—satisfy my bloodlust—then circle back to her.
"We all have sinned and come short of the glory of the Lord," the priest's voice boomed again.
Like hell.
Every single one of them were sinners. If I burned this place down with all of them inside, I wondered if Lucifer would be proud.
Tempting. But probably a terrible idea.
I'd rather not have to face the big man upstairs over destroying one of His buildings. I had no business with Him. He already refused me entry to Heaven.
He sent me to Hell.
It was His fault.
And everyone here? They were rooting for Him. So they'd all die. One after another. Just like I never got the chance to be saved—neither would they.
"Bow your heads and ask the Lord for forgiveness," the priest concluded.
I dipped my head, eyes shut. But unlike these desperate hypocrites, I wasn't begging for forgiveness for a sin I planned to commit again.
I was planning who I'd kill next—and how.
When I walked in, I'd caught a glimpse of a man with a very specific glimmer in his eyes.
Not awe. Lust.
For that split second, the bastard eye-fucked me. And now he was probably sitting there, praying for forgiveness with an erection.
Perfect.
He'd die for the same reason he came here to repent. I'd see to it.
The priest wrapped up, and people began exiting the church.
I gave one last glance at the little nun beside me—still seated, eyes shut, lips moving. Innocent. Holy.
Have fun playing innocent while you can. I'll be back to stain your spotless veil with your own blood.
Then I strutted out of the building.
The moment I stepped outside, a masculine voice called behind me.
"Hey, pretty lady."
It stopped me in my tracks. "Mind if I have a word?"
I bit down a smile.
"No, I don't. But I'm in a bit of a hurry—I don't have time to wait and chat."
"Where you headed?" he asked, catching up.
"Why should I tell you?"
"I mean… I could drop you off."
"I have a car."
"Still. Let me come with you. You don't mind if I tag along, do you?"
I studied him for a second. He's either too blinded by lust, or too fooled by my angelic disguise to realize he's face to face with the devil.
Poor thing.
"Fine by me," he said, grinning.
I bit my lip to conceal my smile.
He probably thought I was some innocent girl—ripe for a quick fuck.
But to me?
He was the easiest prey I'd ever caught.