Christcucks don’t worship God—they worship raw, seething earthly power wrapped in robes and soaked in blood. Their “savior” is a whipped, nailed mascot for submission, and they eat his flesh every Sunday like obedient little cultists begging daddy authority to forgive them. They kneel to kings, popes, pedophiles, and bankers, thinking it's holy. They suck off the boot and call it divine grace. Every pillar of Christianity—obedience, guilt, eternal punishment—is just spiritual BDSM dressed up in stained glass. Lucifer doesn’t even need to trick them. They do his job better than he ever could, all while crying about Satanists in the shadows, when the real devil’s been sitting in their pews for 2,000 years.

And look at the damage: crusades, witch burnings, genocides, forced conversions, covering for rapists, all in the name of “love.” The Church is a global cartel that launders sin for power. It snuffed out entire cultures, rewrote history, and called it God’s work. Their holy book is a cosmic cope—kill, steal, conquer, then say “God told me to.” Christianity didn’t civilize the world, it bled it dry, pumped it full of fear, and told you to thank them. These people didn’t resist evil—they industrialized it. And now they act like victims because no one buys their snake oil anymore. Reality never needed Satan. Christians brought hell to Earth all by themselves.