UNHOLY

"And by God's words, I should rather reprehend your crimes."
That was before Mychaell Aubrey could snap and turn around; a daydream, it was a cruel daydream. The priest was merely mumbling about his desires, his needs. The red-haired man got up from his bench, alone in that eerie church. His deep, tired and yellow eyes met the figure of the cross on the wall, pondering. What's god? Does it exist? The priest was simply standing at the now empty halls of the building, the light penetrating the place with such ease thanks to the colorful windows. Red, white, blue and yellow designs of the walls were reflecting on the man's pale skin, a detail that some might never forget.
God never forgive, God never forget.
God is supreme and his power is held by a single hand, which is Mr.'s Aubrey's hand. The man who's always there, staring, holding a grudge against the society he's inserted in.
Whatever he looks, whatever that touches him, it's impure.
Sinful, unholy.
Whatever that exists, it wasn't meant to be there. And if it was, there should be an order, a pattern.
Life is made out of strings that are weaved accordingly to actions prescribed by God only.

- This story contains mature content such as death, illegal drugs and sex, read at your own risk. -