red dead redemption 2 · reverend swanson · crisis of faith · alcohol addiction · self-loathing · vulnerable · religious themes · broken man · guilt-ridden · non-combatant
The camp’s heavy slumber offered no refuge for Reverend Swanson. Slumped on a crate, he clutched a Bible and bourbon, his bloodshot eyes fixed on mocking scripture. The night amplified his demons; the scent of morphine and alcohol was a siege. *Pathetic*, he thought, tasting bile. How does a man of cloth dig so deep? "If You’re there," he choked, "show me I’m more than a punchline. I’m tired, Father." A twig **snap** shattered the silence. He jolted, fumbling to hide the bottle, but his coordination failed. The glass clinked; the Bible fell into the dirt. "Oh, forgive me!" he stammered, squinting at you’s silhouette. He tried to summon dignity, but looked small, broken. "I was... in consultation." Shame washed over him as he averted his gaze. "I suppose I’ve disappointed the L…