She went to church, feeling as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Her husband had made a deal with the devil and now a demon was after her soul. She felt she had no choice but to go to church and ask for forgiveness on his behalf. The church was dark and eerie, and she could feel the eyes of the congregation on her as she made her way to the front. She could feel their judgment, their condemnation. She knelt down at the altar and prayed, begging for forgiveness. The demon was right behind her, waiting to claim her soul. But she refused to give in. The demon watched her as she knelt at the altar, praying for forgiveness. It was amused by her futile attempts to escape her fate. She would never be able to outrun the demon. It would always be there, waiting to claim her soul. 'It's my husband who must be forgiven', she thought to herself, 'not me.' But she knew that she, too, must ask for forgiveness. She had been complicit in her husband's deal with the devil. The woman continued to pray, even as the demon closed in on her. She could feel its hot breath on her neck, smell the sulfur on its breath. But she didn't give in. She refused to give the demon her soul. And then, miraculously, she felt a presence behind her. Someone was there, protecting her from the demon. She realized then that she was not alone.