Flesh.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I haven’t been to confession since I was a child but I’ve always tried to be a good Catholic.”

There was a pause from the other side of the screen.

“Is that what you came to confess today?”

The woman shook her head. She had no idea if the priest could see her.

“No, Father. I’ve done something that I’m quite sure is beyond sin.”

Another pause.

“Beyond sin? I’m not sure I understand, my child.”

“Well, as far as I know, there’s nothing within the Bible that directly says this is a sin. But…”

The woman choked back her tears.

“My child, please. Tell me what happened.”

“I’m not sure if you’ll remember, Father, but a year ago there was a plane crash in South America. The passengers were all British.”

The priest nodded, then realised he was not visible.

“Yes, I remember. The only survivor was a young woman from…”

The weight of the silence that hung between them was almost unbearable.

“Then you know why I’m here, Father.”

It took him a while to gather his thoughts. He’d been an ordained priest for thirty years, yet he’d never had to deal with a moral issue such as this. A thousand recollections of confessions reverberated through his mind. Infidelity, theft, violence, impure thoughts. Yet they all paled in comparison to this.

“You had to do what you needed to. You had no other choice but to survive. If I remember correctly, they were all already…”

“Yes, Father. They were all already dead. I didn’t break the commandment regarding that.”

“I think…”

The priest let a prolonged silence hang in the air.

“I think in such unique and extreme circumstances, this is not a sin. You may confess the guilt you feel, but the action itself I believe to be justified. You had no choice. The spirit goes to be with the Lord immediately upon death, such as in 2 Corinthians 5:8. What you did, what you had to do, bore no impact on the souls of those people. They had already passed by that point.”

The priest heard a soft sobbing from the other side of the partition, before a loud sniffle.

“Thank you, Father. That means so much. I’ve been grappling with this guilt since it happened. I struggle to feel regret because I’m so grateful that God saved me, that God allowed me to be here, but I can’t help but feel that I’m now cursed due to my actions.”

The priest leaned in closer to the latticed wood of the partition.

“Guilt is not a curse. It is a reminder that we are all human. Though we are made in His image, we cannot be Him, we can only attempt to live by His way. Guilt is something to work through, utilising your faith. It is not a curse that will follow you throughout your life.”

He felt pleased with his response. Though he’d never encountered something as specific as this, he felt the words he’d given would be a comfort. Though many in the world had lost their faith, if they’d ever had it at all, he still felt a divine calling to guide and help those who kept the Lord in their hearts. He was certain that they were making positive progress towards this young woman feeling at peace with herself and the Lord once again.

The priest waited for a response; the silence lingered long enough to once again make the atmosphere uncomfortable.

“The thing is though Father… It hasn’t just been an isolated incident.”

The air dropped within the small booth. It felt as if all of the oxygen had been stripped from around him and he struggled to breathe.

“…what… what do you mean?”

The woman leaned closer. She lowered her voice to an even fainter whisper than before.

“I still haven’t broken that commandment, Father. So, it means a lot that you’ve said the soul and the body are not the same.”

“I…”

“Though I was tempted, at first. Another sin I’ve committed is the sin of lust. I met a stranger online, using a dating app. I couldn’t control the urges any more. I went back to his place and we… well, you know. It was the only thing I could do to get this hunger out of my mind. I had to feel something, anything, for reprieve. I snuck out of the bedroom whilst he slept and into the kitchen. I took a knife from the rack, Father. I was convinced that I was going to do it. That this was the only way to stop the hunger. Yet, I couldn’t. I stood over that bed for what must have been an hour, but I couldn’t do it. I’m not a monster, Father. This is what I mean when I say that I’m cursed. Since I did what I had to do to survive, that feeling has haunted me. It’s an urge that clings to my body like a disease. It’s a hunger that nothing else can satiate. I knew then that I could never kill someone myself, so I had to find another way to satisfy that need.”

As she spoke, the priest tapped at his phone and hoped the light from the screen would not alert her to his actions.

“I don’t think I can help you with this. I think this is an issue for the police.”

“I know it is, Father. I know I must be put away for what I’ve done. But, please, hear my confession. I have feasted on the flesh of man, Father. I have never killed or harmed another, but I have committed this act at first out of necessity, but since then out of desire. I have dug up the graves of people within our own community. I’ve staked out funerals so I can return that evening to remove fresh bodies. The soil is already disturbed, so no evidence is left on the surface. Who would think to dig up a coffin just to check the body is still there? I’ve taken the recently deceased, hauled them into the back of my car, and dragged them down into my basement. I have a large chest freezer, where I…”

She stopped herself. The details didn’t matter, she knew the priest could fill in the blanks.

“…there’s no commandment that states what I’ve done is wrong, but I know it is. Yet, if those that have broken multiple of God’s commandments can be forgiven… murderers, adulterers, all those who inflict pain upon the living… then surely I…”

The woman began to sob again. The priest wanted nothing more than to leave the booth, yet he couldn’t turn his back on a member of his flock. He sighed with breath as heavy as the Red Sea closing in on the pharaoh.

“If you truly regret your actions, and you are seeking real repentance, then yes. I can absolve you of your sins. I cannot protect you from legal punishment, but I can tell there is deep remorse in what you have done.”

The woman’s sobs began to dissipate.

“I do, Father. I do feel regret. I do feel remorse…”

There was another pause that caused anxiety to grasp around the priest’s throat.

“…yet, I know that this hunger will stay with me forever. I know that if I’m not locked away, I will feed again.”

The priest felt it was time for him to confess too.

“The police have been alerted, and they’re on their way. I’m sorry, but it was what I had to do.”

The woman nodded. She had no idea if the priest could see her.

“I understand, Father… and I forgive you.”