A glum Ullr walked into the cathedral, with his hood lowered to the neck. He knew of confession, not much of how it was performed. Odin, the all-father, would not be pleased with what Ullr was about to do.. But for the sake of his conscious he had too..

Approaching the confession box, Ullr stopped and sighed before going in...

The priest acknowledged him... murmuring something about speaking of his good deeds...

"Father, I have.. as you say.. sinned many times, and so has my father, and my father's-fathers before him.. You ask not of my sins, but of our good deeds.. so here it goes."

With a bold breathe, and a long drawn out pause, Ullr confessed.

"My father was a great man, when he passed.. many men and women came to his funeral and wished for him to rest easy, but why? In his life, many judged him for his time spent among these shores as a narcissist, other than loving and caring as they suggested at his funeral. In his life, he acquired a vast fortune... In the 100's of millions... but along the way, he donated 80% to 90% of it away to his loved ones. Looking back on the life of my father, that may have been his only good deed. As for me, my blood is still young, I dream of making my mark. Perhaps I will, who knows. But if I can take one thing away from the deeds that were performed by my father and I, it is that no matter what you do in your life along these shores.. One day we will all be sleeping with the fishes."

With that, Ullr jumped up, pulled up his hood, and sprinted out the doors of the cathedral..

The only thing he could think of, was how could he right his fathers wrongs?...

As Frenchy walks into the Church of Fallen Angels he thinks of all the things he's done since joining the Mafia in his father's footsteps. He had done some things that most would see as evil, and also some things that, from what he's heard, this church would find despicable. He hadn't been to a church since his father's death. He has always avoided churches. They made him think of all the things he, and the two generations before him, had done for the Mafia, or maybe they had done it for themselves. It was hard to tell anymore. There was such a thin line between would they did at of pleasure and what they did for the family that they'd began to become all the same.

As he neared the confession booth he started to have second thoughts. It seemed so twisted to confess for the "good" deeds he had done when there was so many "bad" ones. He tried to block out of his mind and walked into the booth. He sat down and waited for the priest to speak first.

Greetings, my name is Father Jimmy. What good deeds would you like to confess to the Godfather today.

Frenchy looked down and almost chuckled. He couldn't believe he was about to do his first confession in a church ran by the Mafia. He shook his head, took a breath, and started his confessional.

Father, I haven't been here long. In the Mafia, New York, hell even on the world. I'm still young, and I still have a lot to learn. My father taught me to be an honest, stand-up guy. He also told me that "A gun is your best friend in the way that, if someone fucks with you, it'll always have your back".

 He paused for a moment as to make sure he was aloud to cuss. It was church after all; even though it was run by mafiosos. He didn't seem to make any objections, so Frenchy continued on.

I came into the Mafia as just a kid, and I know I haven't been here long, but I think I've grown a lot. Killing and robbing is't as bad as everyone makes it out to be. It's the balance of life. For every 10 law-biding citizens, there must be a man willing to break any law in his way to reach his destiny. Whether that destiny is to be rich, own the greatest gun in the country, make Godfather, or even just earn respect.

In the time I've been here, I've given people money, backed off of kills because someone needed it more, I've supported people from other crews. While doing all these "good" deeds, I've also killed, pick-pocketed, broke people out of jail, and even been involved in some organized crimes. Maybe they balance each other out, maybe I'm a terrible person. Maybe I'm even a good one, but however you look at it, one thing I do know is that I've reached the point where I'll do anything and not have remorse.

Before I heard of this church, I believed myself to be evil, I had lost faith in the Lord. Because if he is real, why would he want me? I had given up on myself as being anything more than an embodiment of all that is wrong, but maybe I was too harsh on myself. Looking at this church I see now that there isn't a true definition of "good" or "bad". It's all in people's heads. Their perspectives and where they come from creates their morals on such subjects. Most people would call me a terrible person, but I'm glad that I've finally found a place where I can be at ease, and know, or at least believe, that I am a good person. That place is the Mafia, and it's where I'll be until the day I die.

Frenchy stood up and began to walk out. While he had his hand on the doorknob he heard the priest start to say something.

That was beautiful kid. Please stop by again some time. We have sermons every week Sunday morning. I think you'd be a good match for our church.

Frenchy opened the door and felt light hit his face. For the first time he looked around the room. He saw many people that he knew. A couple of them were seeming to not want to be seen, but most of them were conversing among each other. All of these people were in the Mafia. There were some big names, and some small names. Right then he made up his mind.

Every Sunday after that day he went to the church. It was the only place where he felt comfortable. No one judged him, the welcomed him with open arms. Something that he had never experienced at church before.