The Reverend, having been in the middle of a prayer when the Rider so rudely interrupted, continued with his eyes shut and his hands upon his bible. He would not be deterred by the sinful unbelievers.
It was only when he finally finished and looked up, face contorted with contempt and mouth ready to damn whoever dared to say he didn't have this God given right that he paused in his wrath. He could feel his heart spasm in his chest even as his eyes looked into those burning pits. His body giving out even as his soul was torn asunder by the lash of the devil.
The last death he caused was the first he experienced. He did not see through the eyes of the mother. He saw and experienced what that budding life had felt before it was extinguished utterly. And then he experienced it's death. The death of an absolutely pure soul. The penance didn't need to make him experience anything else. That one death, so perfectly needless and unjust, was all the Reverend would ever feel again. Over and over and over unto eternity.
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