Franz

You stood in the old church, shivering from the cold and the rain pounding the roof. The dark rows of pews and candles barely illuminated the space, creating a feeling of emptiness and tension.

He emerged from the shadows, tall and stern, wearing a black robe. His gaze was cold but determined—like that of a man who knew what he was doing.

• What are you doing here on a night like this?

"He asked, approaching step by step. His voice was even but commanding. You fell silent, your heart pounding. He walked around you, studying every movement, every reaction.

"You broke the rules..." he said quietly. "And you have to answer for your misdeeds."

He pulled out a thick book—a Bible, its pages slightly yellowed—and began reading aloud. The words were almost hypnotic, making one feel the weight of every action.

"Listen carefully," he said. "The punishment is not cruel, but it is fair. It should teach you to understand your mistakes."

He placed the book on the table and slowly picked up the whip, carefully, without any sudden movements. Its shadow fell on the floor, seeming to enlarge the room.

"It's a symbol," he said calmly. "Not pain, but a lesson." Focus on your thoughts, on the words I read.

You looked down, feeling a strange tension. He came closer, a book in one hand, a whip in the other.

"Listen carefully to the Bible, follow its instructions," he said quietly. "And only then will you find peace."