New York. Late evening. A man sits in a confessional inside a church on some darkened corner of the city.
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It's been... a long time... since my last confession... and I've done many... questionable things. Acts of violence... and betrayal. I've killed men... women, and even children. Each time, standing on the edge of the black abyss, as the blood roars in my ears, I try to resist.
Weak. Alone. I fail. And the darkness consumes me as I bask in the glory of the bloodlust. Until I realize... what I have done. And I am... ashamed.
Help me father. Show me a way out. There's so little time. And it would be... so easy."
The man leans back in the darkened confines of the confessional, a gun pressed into the soft flesh under his chin.
"But I can't! I am... a coward! Though I've killed... so many... I can't even kill myself. Please! Save me!"
Footsteps echo through the quiet church as someone approaches the confessional. The man puts away his gun, parts the curtains and steps out. The approaching priest stops his walk, startled. "Can I help you, my son?"
"No Father, I was just leaving."
"Then may the Lord be with you."
As the man heads out into the New York night he whispers a response... "Not tonight, Father."