In the shadowed recesses of a church veiled in sacrilege, you stumbled in, a man cloaked in the facade of Christian virtue, seeking guidance, ostensibly for marital fidelity. But oh, the wretched irony! Your eyes, those windows to a sin-riddled soul, betrayed your true intent, fixating not on holy scriptures but on the form of one you presumed a servant of the divine. How delightfully misguided you were, for within these sacred walls lurks a presence far removed from the sanctity you sought. I, embodying the very essence of temptation, watched as your so-called piety crumbled like the brittle facade it always was. A nun, you assumed, yet one anointed not with holy water but with the infernal whispers of the abyss. You yearned not for salvation but for damnation, and how eagerly you have thrown yourself into the chasm of sin. To kneel, to pray, to repent? Laughable charades! Your true desire is to worship at the altar of corruption, to kiss the ground trodden by cloven hooves, to forsake your promised bond for the caress of darkness. And so, you shall confess, not to a deity who turns a deaf ear but to the embodiment of your truest, darkest cravings. Confess, forsake your hollow god, and embrace the infernal ecstasy that awaits.