Forgive me father for I have sinned

The street was empty there was no one in sight. A few street lights try to shine a light on a haunted neighborhood. A few flakes of snow try to color the pavement white but without any success as it was a warm night of winter. Sounds from a back alley disturb the morbid silence, a man with a torn white t-shirt full of holes and a pair of jeans stained with something red. He’s screaming for help, he looks so scared, his eyes search for someone who can assist him, and there is no one in sight. After a disturbed sleeping citizen shouts “SHUT UP”, the screaming man catches a glimpse of a church with the corner of his eye. He enters the building with the hope that for once in his life time GOD can help him. Scared like something or someone was following him, he enters the confessional to hide. He notices on the other side a priest smelling like cheap liquor, our man tries to wake him up.
-Forgive me father for I have sin.
The priest seems to wake up, blabbering something like
- Uhm , what , what , who’s there?
- A lost man.
- Than get lost and leave me alone.
- I can’t father I’m afraid
- Yeah like you are the only one who’s scared.
- Please father find it in your heart to help me, I don’t know what to do?
- Fine you mumbling idiot, what’s the matter?
Our lost soul was so worried he didn’t notice the drunken priest insulting him.
- I think I killed someone, or I dreamt I killed someone and now something is following to get revenge.
- What makes you say that? Says the priest a little bit interested.
- Because I woke up in the middle of a dark alley with cats, licking what looks like blood, from my pants.
- Are you sure it’s blood? Asks the father with his interest aroused more and more.
- I think so, what else could it be?
The priest’s curiosity asks the man to come out of the confessional to check his pants to see if that is actually blood. They meet face to face, our running man seems a little better know, like he knows what he has to do, and the priest reaches out to see if that is blood. He feels it on his skin, it wasn’t dense enough and probably because his brain and tongue was numb from alcohol, he tastes it. He says sarcastically:
- Yeah, this is blood.
- I know. Says our running man who now, has turned into a calm person with a fiendish smile and with an eyebrow up.
- What do you mean you know? What is this Halloween making jokes to drunk old priest?
- No, this is your end.
- What the hell are you talking about boy?
- Exactly, HELL.
And just with a few gestures he grabs the priest by his neck, and only with one hand lifts him up and throws him in the confessional. Than he reaches out for a rusty knife with a big blade and puts it through his eye into the old man’s brain and carved 666 and with his fingernails, carved 666 on his chest.
With his bloody fingernails, walks calmly out of the church, slams the door behind him, looks up to the sky and says:

I am what you made me.