Blasphemy - Minchan

12// There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin.

Nothing was visible in Father Wilson's office. Heavy shoes wandered around Chan, stomping over the floorboards he was kneeling on, forced on his hands and knees. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing becoming quicker until a hand reached for his and intertwined their fingers.

"It'll be ok," Minho whispered so only they could hear, squeezing Chan's hand. Even he knew it probably wouldn't be ok.

In front of them, a match was struck behind a large, wooden desk. Their heads snapped towards it. Father Wilson's face lit up in the glow, grinning. He lit three candles on the edge of his desk and the monks behind Chan and Minho stilled against the stone walls. Seungmin hid in the corner of the room, keys for the office hidden in his pocket. He looked nervous now, his smug smirk faded.

Father Wilson placed his hands on the desk, eyes flickering between Minho and Chan, "anything you'd like to confess, boys?"

"Like what?" Minho asked, pushing himself off his hands, standing as tall as he could be on his knees.

"Any sins?" He looked down at Minho and Chan's connected hands. Chan's other hand was still pressed to the floor, his eyes fixed on it. "Sodomy, perhaps?"

"Why would you be interested in that?" Minho scoffed, "nonce."

Someone kicked Minho in the back. He fell forward, hand ripping from Chan's to steady himself on the floor. He looked back up at Father Wilson with eyes burning holes through his skull, "I told someone to call the police on you. You can't treat people like this. You're going to get exposed."

"Nobody's going to expose us," Father Wilson chuckled, walking around the side of the desk and dropping down to Minho's eye level, "nobody's coming for you, my child. That lady reported you to me, not the police. She accused you of telling stories to scare her little boy. Nobody believes you, I'm afraid."

"That's bullshit! You're just saying that. They're going to come," Minho said, pushing himself off his hands again, eye-level with Father Wilson who was still crouching. His voice became desperate when he spoke, "they can't... they won't let you get away with this..."

Father Wilson sighed, turning to Chan who's head hung low. "Stand up," he ordered him, getting to his own feet. Chan's head shot up, looking around at everyone surrounding him. At least seven monks were against the walls. He had no chance of running so he did as Father Wilson asked, shoulders shrunk in on himself with his arms wrapped around his chest. "You know what happened in Genesis 22, don't you Chan?"

Chan nodded, "Of course. It's the Binding of Isaac. God told Abraham to sacrifice his son. When he was about to do it, he was stopped by a messenger from God and Abraham's sacrifice was replaced with a ram."

"Exactly," Father Wilson nodded, walking around the back of his desk and opening a drawer. "You see, the thing about religion is, it requires sacrifice. It requires you to let go of those things you love. Those human pleasures. The sinful desires within you. It requires you to kill them."

Chan furrowed his brow, "what... what do you mean?"

Father Wilson pulled a whip out of the draw. It was a long one, made of black leather. It was the one Chan remembered being used on him before he was forced into the cellar a year and a half ago. A dozen lashes to his back, a dozen more to his chest... Chan's breath got caught in his throat, body frozen.

"Abraham was asked to make a sacrifice for God and you're going to do the same. The only difference is, your sacrifice won't be replaced with a ram. Of course, I'm not asking you to kill Minho, but If that were to happen... well, we'd have ways of covering it up. You need to purge yourself of this temptation the devil has put in your path to salvation, all the other boys he's tempted you with. This is the only way."