She still did her best to keep looking upon the altar, which was now somewhat easier for her to bear – primarily because her eyes were full of bloody tears, and all she could make out was a golden blur. Nevertheless, as this began to look within attainable distance, more sickening spasms twisted her innards, despair gripped her heart, and as she collapsed to her knees, she heard the accusing voice once more:
Traitor… Whore… You would be false to your vows, fornicate with demons, then presume to come crawling to me in your hypocrisy? You have your reward, daughter of filth. Leave here, or even those sordid pleasures you have will be taken from you.