After midnight, the confessional becomes something else entirely. When the city sleeps, a man steps into the darkness of the booth, not for penance, but for something far more sinister. Here, absolution does not come from prayer. Under the cloak of anonymity, he speaks of the unspeakable-detailing crimes that the night alone has witnessed. As each confession reveals a web of deceit, betrayal, and murder, the line between sinner and confessor blurs. What is truly sought in these dead-of-night confessions: redemption or something else that lies in the shadows?