Wine and Gun

Seriously, isn't this guy a Christian? Then what exactly is he trying to get here by appearing here? Could it be that he is one of those roadside gangsters who have nothing to do and come to find an old priest for fun?

"Unfortunately, someone got their hands on my spring." The other party continued, the smile on his face still didn't seem to disappear, but his voice hardened, "I don't deny that I'm angry about it, even if it's been a year. I probably couldn't believe I was in this situation before. You probably can't understand the feeling, as if someone destroyed your tower of Babel, which may not be worth mentioning in other people's eyes, but it's worth it It's not like you, the one who worked hard. You expect him to get closer to heaven, but the purpose of others is to let him be destroyed in the dust-"

He took a slow breath, and for some reason Father Anderson felt his heart tighten with the breath.

"So," he asked kindly, "why do you defile my spring, Father Anderson?"

After listening to this sentence, Father Anderson wanted to call the police very, very much. He didn't know if the person sitting across from him was telling the truth, or if he was just a drunk or a crazy lunatic, but in any case, it seemed It would be better to deal with it to the police. He was sure that the other party had no good intentions.

For the first time, he regretted not carrying a smartphone with him like those young men, but the penitent was staring at him, and even in the dim light, he still noticed that he had a pair of green eyes that were burning like ghosts .

So he could only swallow gān abruptly and said, "...I don't understand what you mean."

"Or let's stop talking in metaphors, I've heard people say that's your god's way of doing things," said the penitent, "Let's talk about something you remember the name of -- do you remember William? That kid in the White Oaks choir?"

Father Anderson froze, and a cold air slowly climbed up his spine. He didn't think about it, and vetoed: "I don't know what you're talking about!"

The other party seemed to be patient in explaining this matter to him: "When you were the priest of the church in St. Anthony's Church, other priests and church members took advantage of their authority to molest the children of the church choir. You are very concerned about this fact. You know that, don't you? Don't you feel that there are so many children who are afraid to go to church and avoid the priest in horror? You know it, but you haven't stopped it..."

Father Anderson opened his mouth weakly, feeling as if dry sand was burning in his throat.

"A woman from White Oaks, Mary Talos, told me that her son was one of the victims. She found a lot of scars on her son, so she didn't feel right. This terrified mother found you , asking you to find out the perpetrator, but you didn't investigate deeply... This matter is not settled, I am afraid it is because you received the priest at that time for some benefit? Your life has been relatively poor before, but around 1985 Suddenly you have a sum of money and you can buy a new house, isn't it really because you accepted a bribe?" And the other party continued to speak as if ignorant of his violent reaction, "Later, Ms. Taros's The child committed suicide because of depression, and of course, according to the teachings, a child who commits suicide cannot go to heaven—"

He paused, then continued: "And this poor child from Ms. Talos's was just one of the victims...I guess you remember one of them, the piano-playing child, whose name was William, and it was commonly known as It's Will. It's a pretty little boy with blond hair."

The penitent raised his head, his green eyes were as bright as láng, and he smiled slightly: "You should still have an impression of him, he is a very special child."

For some reason, at this moment, Father Anderson suddenly remembered some fragments, that is, some scenes that he was deeply terrified of: the child's gloomy eyes, and the two corpses hanging under the dome of St. Anthony's Church. There is no direct connection between these two events, but for some reason they often appear in his dreams instead.

"You—" he stumbled, "are you—?!"

"No, of course I'm not him. Although I have to admit, it's a very dramatic scene for the client to come back for revenge after many years." The other party laughed lowly, as if he had figured out some incomprehensible pleasure from Father Anderson. , and this deep laughter suddenly broke the last string in the priest's heart.

Father Anderson stood up abruptly. He got up so quickly that he almost knocked over his chair. But at this moment he didn't have time to take care of so much, he hurriedly opened the door and strode forward - before he wanted to run away, he looked back and saw that the tall man had appeared ghostly in the He reached the door of the confessional room, moving very fast and silently.

"Run, Mr. Father. Run," the man whispered, in a voice that sounded both persuasive and threatening. "You don't have much chance to run anymore."

Olga Molozze insists that McCard is a very rude person, because every time he runs to knock on Olga's door, he never thinks of asking in advance whether the host's house is convenient or not. .

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