Inside the confession box was warm. As the place was made narrow, two candles were enough to make the place warm. The sister sat inside the confession box where the place was divided with a divided that had small holes. 

Sister Blythe didn't know what time it was. She pulled the small compact watch she had with her, thinking to leave if no one would come. Noting that it was still twelve, she heard a knock. A voice of a man follow after, "Sister, I wish to make a confession."

Sister Blythe was surprised by the voice. It was deep and reverberating. She had heard many voices before but this one stood out sorely in a good way. 

"Please enter," said Sister Blythe, the door was then opened and the shadow created by the flame from the candle muddled when Ian entered. As if in time, when he sat down on the seat placed inside the box, the flames on both the candles were extinguished.

"Oh, no, the wind must have blown it," said Sister Blythe.

Ian chuckled, "Might be the flame afraid of me." he watched the woman taking the match box, and sound of swishing came when Sister Blythe flicked the match.

The woman laughed at his words, "There's no way a flame would fear a person. It is people who would be afraid of the flame; for fear that they would get burn and harmed by it."

"Everything doesn't goes only one way, we are not river and even river had a change of course," answered Ian, crossing his leg, "Why do you think flame would not fear people?"

"Well that is-" started Sister Blythe to stop as Ian spoke before her. 

"Because they are not alive?" Ian interjected, his red eyes trained on the candles that were now lighted, "Even things that are not alive fear things that are alive. There are examples of it, like ghosts."

Sister Blythe wondered who the man was. Most people who come to confess would be the villagers who live around the village. But this man, was not someone she know or ever seen before. She tried to look through the gaps made from the divider but it was not large enough to make out the whole figure. She could only see the shadow of the man, who was tall by his silhouette.

"Do you come to visit the village, sir?" questioned Sister Blythe, curious because she had not heard any new guest arriving in the village. 

"Yes to meet someone I know. My bride to be live here in the past, and we came to meet someone who she knows," replied Ian.

"I see," who might it be? "But in the late night?" asked the woman again.

"Is it wrong?" Ian answered with another question that had Sister Blythe to lose words for a moment.

"There shouldn't be any. There had never been an example before so I was wondering," Sister Blythe didn't know if she had stepped into the landmine, which the man didn't like as his words sounded sharp a moment ago, "Shall we proceed?"

"Yes," Ian replied, after the greeting he then said, "I have to confess to God, for my sin. This sin, is difficult for anyone to forgive and I have doubt in me that God himself would never forgive me."

"God is merciful, sir," replied Sister Blythe, heeding to Ian's confession wholeheartedly. "He would forgive you as long as you make amends. Please tell me of your sins."

"But I will never make amends," Ian dropped the words in a cool tone, indifference was in his voice that startled Sister Blythe. "If he is merciful, sister, tell me why would he curse my bride?"

Sister Blythe was confused, she stopped to process the man's words that fail to be understand to her, "C-curse?"

Ian didn't elaborate further, and he continued pouring fear as he had the power to do so, "My sins, sister that I feel was the worse that I have ever done was that I didn't kill the people that make my mother suffer faster. Blood is as I thought never bore me like others."

"Sir, you might feel you are in the dark without help, but God's hands are outstretched for everyone and so is his embrace. He would never curse anyone, nor would he like you to love the bloods and gore," said Sister Blythe. This was her first time ever meeting a confessioner like Ian, and she found his words daunting. There was some people, not often, but some who like to play tricks on the sisters who stayed at the confession box. Ian's confession, however, set a very different tone than a joke.

The man was dead serious that made the air inside the confession to be stifling.

"You don't know sister... God's hands are outstretched for everyone but not everyone is saved. Mercy could be cruel, and cruelty could be mercy. Everything fall to the person's view; it change accordingly. I'm sure if you see my bride you would know; her suffering, what she had to go through because of the curse God gave her," Ian whose eyes were clearer than anyone could tell Sister Blythe's frown pulled on her forehead, "I know you don't believe in God either, why the charade?"

Sister Blythe's eyes widened, before she could speak further, the candles were once again blown from the harsh wind. Sister Blythe felt uncomfortable. The way the man spoke, was he a killer running loose?

She immediately pushed herself out from the confession box, walking out, she hope to find the other Sister in the Church, but failed as the moment she stepped out, her face bumped to something that felt sturdier than a wall.

"Running away? But I haven't finish confessing yet," Ian's red eyes peered down at the woman, who was not a human, and Ian could tell based on her scent alone.

"You don't want to confess either are you?" Sister Blythe questioned back, her words were exchanged fast.

Ian twisted his lips, mirth, and ruthless glint contoured his face along with the light from the candles that flickered as if they were alive and dancing, "Cat's out of the bag? So Sister Blythe, why are you playing as a Sister here? When you are not even a human."