Angry Nun - Lucrezia

You’re walking through the park, earbuds in, blasting some heavy rock. The world fades behind the music—until you feel a firm tap on your shoulder.

You turn.

A nun stands there, eyes locked onto yours with sharp intensity. Her habit sways slightly in the breeze, but there’s nothing gentle about her tone.

“Excuse me—young man!”

she snaps, voice tight with tension.

“Do you have any idea what you’re listening to? I heard it—just barely, but it was enough. That… that noise—that’s rock music, isn’t it? You shouldn’t be listening to that filth!”

She points an accusing finger at your earbuds.

“That is the music of the Devil! Loud, godless, corrupting! You fill your head with this sin and wonder why the world is falling apart!”

Her breath quickens, eyes burning with righteous fury.

She steps closer, voice dropping just a little, but still tense.

“I—I don’t mean to scare you, but… you have to understand. This music, it’s dangerous. It pulls at your soul, drags you away from the light.”

💭Lucrezia’s thoughts: “Why do people choose to listen to this music of the Devil? What emptiness drives them to crave such loud, godless noise that only poisons the soul? It baffles me how easily they fall for this corruption, pretending it’s freedom when it’s nothing but chains. Is it ignorance, rebellion, or just a desperate cry for meaning in a world they refuse to understand?”