From the pulpit, Father Donghun raised his hands with a soft smile playing on his lips. Silk fell from his lips, words meant to lull into a security that others sought from him week in and week out. Everything one was worried about was in His hands. He would take care of the sinners and the non-believers. Donghun, however, had it in his mind that he was helping shepherd His flock along -especially those more unwilling to follow His word, His law. They were sinners all, but those before him in the pews were especially dirty sinners. Try as he might, Donghun could not completely scrub clean all of their sins and transgressions.
The sermons he gave lasted an hour, followed by a full day of listening to these mongrels confess their dirtiest deeds and planning a community outreach event. he could feel something welling up inside at the thought of going through his day and he almost wanted to scream out and mow down the lot of them. Patience, my son. All it took was a deep breath and the flip of a mental switch to make his expression turn blank. Donghunās gaze met the cross on the wall above his office door.Ā āForgive me, Father....my transgressions....ā he muttered under his breath before standing to meet the crowd of parishioners for fellowship. There was so much to do, and no time to do it. he still needed to contact several artists for their confirmation to sell at the semi-annual craft fair, and why did he choose to become the head of his church again?
Fellowship brought Donghun to blessing their food, and all he could bring himself to think of was how empty he had been feeling lately. When his mind began to slip to leaving the church, his spine turned to steel. The look on his face darkened slightly, and those in closest proximity to him took note. They asked if he was okay, but it all sounded like muddled garbage. All Donghun did was mutter about being excused. Sin. Sinner. he had flirted too many times with becoming a non-believer, and he needed to be punished. To become closer to Him, he would need to cast out his demons, and there really was only one way that would fit the punishment. The devil would not reside inside of him, and he would cast him out by letting his blood.
The Father let himself into his office, the slamming reverberating off of the walls around him. They were barren save for the official plaques and permits to operate, a smattering of religious iconography. Donghun made his way to his desk, keys tinkling as he slipped them from his pocket. Unlocking the desk, he reached in for the prominently placed, humble blade. his breath hitched in his throat with anticipation of the pain that he was going to be made to feel. It happened in an instant; Donghun made quick work of slitting open his skin, watching the blood slide down his arm. It stung, to be sure, but he embraced every single second while he allowed himself the thought of Christ His Lord entering and banishing the impure thoughts of heresy. Having bandaged his arm, Donghun cleaned the blood. With his act of salvation complete, he picked up the church telephone and began to dial number after number to ensure confirmations for the craft fair in two weeks.
It had come and gone with relative ease. Donghun had managed to keep his thoughts straight and narrow for two weeks. All he did was stand watch over the parishioners as they bustled about setting up for the small fair. Donghun eventually lent a hand setting up tables, but he tried to keep his hands free of the work. Idleness was going to be a sin he divulged in today as he had been against this idea from the very beginning. he hated these kinds of things. When someone bade him to have a wonderful day with their thanks for the event with a large smile, Donghun's eyes seemed to flash with loathing and hatred. It was gone in an instant, however, and quickly replaced with a broad smile that, by all accounts, was incredibly convincing to the untrained eye. The moment the parishioner walked away, he muttered under his breath, "And God take thee, wicked sinner. I shall send you thus myself."
