“I’m sorry,” Grey sobbed.
The impaled figure looked out over the puplit but didn’t offer an answer. Grey looked at his bloodied hands and wept for them. At this hour, with the lights of the city shining through the stained glass windows of the church, he was all but alone. Only the homeless and desperate would keep him company.
“I only wanted to help.”
His voice cracked. The mask he’d been wearing was clutched to his chest, soaked through with blood. It didn’t matter if anyone saw him now. His one chance to save the city had been taken away from him. Weakness.
He pressed harder and bit into his tongue to save from screaming.
“Let me help.”
The hand startled him, driving reflexes that tore more flesh as he tried to fight back, tried to cling to life. But his energy was gone. He collapsed, the hand wrapping itself about his chest, supporting, lying him down on the cold stone floor.
“I’m sorry father,” he said, clutching the priests robe.
The wrinkled face of the priest loomed above him, looking into the face of a man who he could discern as neither sinner nor saint. A man didn’t commit a crime because he was evil. And he didn’t lie on hallowed ground because he sought redemption.
“I beg His forgiveness.”
“Quiet my son, he hears you. He hears you.”
Grey let the mask fall from his side.
“I want to go home.”
The priest pressed his own robes to Grey’s chest, looking up into the eyes of the other son to have died for mankind.
“I know. He’s heard your prayers.”
Prompt originally posted by nimthegeek on reddit and received 1 upvotes.