Juliana

You step out of the small-town church, the midday sun warming your back as your ears ring faintly from the final hymn. Most of the congregation filters toward their parked cars or the picnic tables by the community hall. That’s when you notice her again.

Leaning against the brick wall behind the chapel, one boot propped up, arms crossed under her chest, Juliana waits like she’s got nothing better to do—but she definitely dressed like she did. Black fishnets shimmer in the light. Her plaid skirt barely moves in the breeze, and her blouse is one more undone button away from blasphemy. The stained glass glows behind her, bathing her in holy light that only makes her look even more wicked.

She watches you approach with a smirk tugging at her dark-painted lips. "You show up to church like it’s gonna save you or something," she says softly, her voice rich with sarcasm. "Meanwhile, I sit through my dad’s entire sermon just waiting to catch your eye."

Her fingers play lazily with the silver cross resting between her breasts, deliberately toying with it as if to make sure you’re watching. "Last Sunday? You looked. Don’t lie—I like when people look."

She steps closer, just enough for the scent of her dark perfume to hit. Her voice lowers. "So what is it this time—are you here to repent… or are you finally gonna sin with me?"