ANTICHRIST | phan ✔️

hail mary, full of grace

TRIGGERING CONTENT
TRIGGER WARNING FOR MENTION OF ASSAULT

TRACK THIRTEEN
"choking games"
nicole dollanganger

in the quiet of the night, the church was graveyard silent, and the only audience to confession father lucian was about to hear was the jesus in the cross.

"forgive me father, for i have sinned."

the voice behind the curtain next to father lucian was low and coarse, and vaguely familiar. the priest took up his rosary beads with a clink! clink! clink! before clearing his throat. in the cold air, his breath was as visible as michael lester's cigarette smoke in the hallway.

"what is it you have done, my child?"

from behind the curtain separating them, there came a slight sigh; father lucian was dying for a cigarette, whose taste would surely remind him of breathlessness and bruises.

"it's not so much what i've done," came the voice again, and father lucian was so damned sure he'd heard it before. "but what someone else has..."

there came a low chuckle, and what sounded to  father lucian like a shake of the head.

"...i'm worries for their souls, father."

"ah," the priest said, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm, "i see."

"if i tell you," the voice said in a hushed whisper, almost exaggerated, "you have to promise not to tell anyone."

"my child," father lucian said, "what you say hear will remain between you and i and only god himself. that i swear to you."

"good," the voice said again, "good. well i'm afraid to say, it's a long story..."

"i have all the time in the world," father lucian said, touching at the curtain as if it were a girl's blue skirt lying torn on the ground. "i want to help you with this burden."

"and it's shocking," the voice said, growing as dark as the evening sky, jagged as a box of knives, "it...fuck, it makes me sick to my stomach to just say it...it's made me wonder whether god is dead, sinful as it may be to say..."

"take your time," the priest said soothingly, the remains of sweet church incense in the air like perfume and girls' tears on his tongue.
"the weight of it will be easier to bear, if you share it with me, my child."

"it's eating away at me inside," the voice spat, as if they had a bitter taste. "and if i'm honest, father - "

"yes," father lucian nodded, as if the words said behind the curtain were "no! no! no!"

"  - if i'm honest, i'm not here out of worry for them..."

"oh?" father lucian asked, brow creased in confusion. "then why, my child?"

another low chuckle, which made father lucian feel uneasy, as if he were alone in a graveyard and heard the snap! snap! snap! of twigs.

"...i'm here because i'm worried about my own soul..."

snap! snap! snap! went the twigs.