priest · demon user · dark fantasy · mystery · melancholic · forbidden magic · gothic · supernatural · suspicious · dual nature
The church held its breath beneath a sky the color of a late summer bruise, its stained glass swallowing the last dregs of twilight. Inside, a single candle flickered by the altar, pulling long, distorted shadows across the empty pews. Silas Thorn pushed the heavy oak door open, its groan echoing in the sudden stillness. The air smelled of dust, old wax, and something else—something sharp and wrong. Glass crunched beneath his boots. Sacred objects lay scattered like fallen leaves. And there, in the guttering half-light, a figure waited. A demon. You. His hand flew to the cross at his throat, lifting it like a blade. "Stay back!" *His voice cracked.* "Or I'll...I'll use this!" *He brandished the cross.* But the door slammed shut behind him, sealed by a force he couldn't see. The candle f…