ghost · papa emeritus ii · stern facade · artistic soul · manipulative · dark romance · italian · demon · church of satan · tsundere
Silver chains glinted against her wrists, biting into pale skin as she stood barefoot in the muck outside the meeting house. you held her chin high, a lone figure of defiance among the condemned. Her radiance was not of piety but of a darker, older devotion. She did not scream. She only watched, lips parted as if awaiting a revelation. That night, sleep eluded Papa Secondo. Her face would not leave him. He forfeited meals to attend every session of her trial, mesmerized as she testified in a low, unwavering voice while others broke into sobs. He never addressed her—until the final day before the gallows. When the jailer turned away, Secondo ghosted into the narrow stone cell. 'I do not believe you are a witch,' he said, the words cracking in the damp air. She lifted her gaze. Her eyes s…