Since the day of my birth, I have spent my days here in the Grand Cathedral. Here I entertain the masses with sermons, preaching the word of the Great Mother
to the people. What these humans do not know is what takes place down below in the catacombs, where the current Skullgirl dwells. Every night after I close the doors to the cathedral, I go there to check on the progress of her mission...the status of her wish.
And during the day I seek out new, potential candidates for my masters, as well as for my own personal sustenance.
My method is easy to comprehend. From the humans that confess to me everyday, I pick a few that no one would miss. And after I've tested them,
I can choose to help them using my words, or save them using my body.
Either way, my masters are pleased.

This morning began as any other would. Humans line up for confession more at noon while the early birds show up at this time. The first human
to enter the doors of the cathedral today was a very plump, fat man. He wore an expensive grey suit with a tie that held on tight around his fat neck.
On his head was a matching top hat of grey. He had a monocle for a right eye and brown alligator skin boots for feet. I believe his most defining feature was the big,
grey mustache attached to his face. With ruby-studded cane in hand, he took a stroll down the aisle between the pews to where I stood next to the stained glass
windows. Previous to this one's arrival, I was close to taking on the task of cleaning the dust from these windows, as they had not been dusted properly.
The maid who was usually responsible for keeping them clean had often neglected her duties. One day, she had a little...accident on the job. That was two weeks ago. I haven't heard from her since. Tragic.

But back to the fat man, he had reached the place of my choosing now. He stood prominently in my presence, his cane being the only object keeping him
from falling over.
"My dear lady," he said in a proud voice, "are you the one known as Sister Charlotte?"
"Yes," I said in reply to my false name. "I am she. I tend to this place and adhere to anyone who requires my assistance. What is it you need today?"
"I hear you listen to confessions in your...little church. So after talking with my legal consultants, I made the long, treacherous trip here.
You wouldn't believe how many poor people I had to deal with!"
"How very terrible for you," I said. My first assumption of him? He was a rich, pompous old man. I judged him to be nothing but a faithless fool who only knew
how to make money by stepping on those that were not on the same level as him in terms of wealth. What a waste of flesh.
"Yes, it's been a true test of my endurance. But I, Sir Jed Clarence, the Third...will not be discouraged by others who are less fortunate than I! If only they'd learned
how to invest their money, like I did. Why, when I was a young boy, I made a killing in the stock market!"
"Please," I said kindly, holding back a yawn from his pointless words, "let us adjorn to the confessional box...to continue this conversation."
"Oh, indeed," he replied with a hearty laugh. "Wouldn't want any undesirables giving us trouble out here, yes?"
In front of the pews and just past the altar was a two-way confessional box. It was a brown booth built out of wood with two compartments.
One in which the human would sit, and the other in which I would sit. I opened the door to his half of the box and let him take his seat on the bench. Then I went to
my half and went inside. The only thing between us now was the mesh-like screen built for the purpose of verbal communication. Well that, and to keep the
unwashed hands of humans away from my pure body. I faced the old man on his side of the box and observed the features of his face. His face had become pale and
his mustache twitched, probably from being in a more closed area of space.
"Are you feeling claustrophobic, sir?"
"Nonsense! I'm trying to think of the most candid way to state my daring confession! Yes...good!"
And thus, he began his confession.
"Sister Charlotte, yesterday I made a mistake...with a former business partner of mine. For the twenty years that we knew one another, I had never seen his face. We usually did our work over the telephone. On the day I discovered who he was, I rejected the proposal he wrote up to join our respective companies.
I first thought nothing of it, feeling as if there would be no reprucussions. But..."
"Yes? What is it, my dear? Speak freely. If you feel you are able, speak your mind. Possibly in a way you would talk to someone in the strictest confidence."
Stuffed in the pocket of his overcoat was a hanky. He pulled it out and dabbed his sweaty forehead with it.
"Yes. Thank you, Sister. Yes...but in a letter I was sent the other night, I was informed of another mistake I'd commited...from my past. If it were to ever be known by the general public, I'd be ruined! Financially ruined!"
So he's guilty of a crime. As he was no more than a fat, greedy old man, he must've been at the end of his rope to travel to a place he considered to be beneath him, I thought.
"Please sir," I said without any real pity, "do not panic."
"I fear for my life," he said, ignoring my words. The fear in his eyes was making itself known. "But to go back on my word on that proposal would make me look
cowardly and weak! And I did not get by in life by bowing down to anyone. That is why to preserve my pride and honor, I must have your word on this.
I need your unbiased wisdom, my dear! Should I accept the proposal or hold my own against this ruffian?"
This man's little quandry meant nothing to me. For the entirety of his confession, I was listening for clues. For the qualities that would make him a good candidate
for my masters. I see. Yes, I understand. He is rich, fat, and full of pride. It is possible that he is well known, wherever he is from.
And he's going to be in hot water with whoever is trying to blackmail him into doing their bidding, whether he agrees to change his mind or not.

This one...will not make a good candidate.

I sighed. I had no use for this one. Of course, I did not think I would find the right person this early in the day.
"Come, come, you lowly nun," said the old man. I could see he was at his boiling point. "You are more than welcome to answer me! Speak!"
"You are right," I said in a tone that betrayed my true nature. "I am a lowly nun. That means I am neither worthy nor fitting to give you an answer you would like.
You should trust your own judgment and do what you decide."
These words did the trick. The fear once upon the face of the sweaty old man had vanished, replaced with a boldness that could only be matched by his stupidity.
"I am a man of great accomplishments, aren't I? Yes! Very much so! I will do as I want and take that fool's bluff! It was outrageous of me to think that someone
like him would know of the shame from my past!"
Using his cane, he rose to his feet and stepped out of the box.
"You should be grateful, my dear nun! For I have figured out the answer all on my own!"
"Yes," I said without a hint of hate or malice, "you are a great man, indeed."
"Indeed, I am! Hahahahah!"
He laughed and laughed as he walked down the aisle, amused by himself. He left the cathedral with a confident, cocky smile.

I sighed again. Of course, pride can lead to your own destruction. He was too taken in by the sin of hubris to realize this.
Soon, he will face the consequences of his actions. Just as all humans do.

"That mustache," I said in a mutter. "No one will ever see it again."