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Summary
"My soul is yours, Father..." Jenson whispered. His voice was less of a command and more like an enchantment engraving itself into Fernando's mind.
Fernando could feel how each word falling from the priest's lips was melting his own will. This man before him was not a saint, no. He was the most dangerous, sweetest sin itself, hiding behind sacred garments. But Fernando would rather drown in that sin than return to prison a thousand times over.
As he breathed in Jenson's minty breath, without taking his eyes off the priest's, he whispered:
"My soul... is completely yours, Father Button."
