"Not since I was a child. He's been here... a very long time. I was an altar boy at this church, when I was young." A lifetime and a half ago, when things were different, when he didn't know the full extent of the shadows in the world.

When he wasn't of those shadows himself.

"I haven't been brave enough to confess in ages. Not sure what brought me in today, honestly. I know it's pointless. Maybe I just needed to talk. To hear a kind voice."

He ducked his head into his hands, fingers mussing already disarrayed dark hair. "You do have a very kind voice, you know." Maybe that was part of the problem too. He did not deserve kindness or absolution. He deserved derision and judgment, deserved to be driven out of the church like the monster that he was.

"What are your usual duties, if not taking confessions?"