As always, the night was shrouded in impenetrable darkness. Torrential rain drenched the small town on the fringes of sprawling metropolitan cities, washing blood from the seldom-trodden sidewalks.
Michael stood before an elderly devout priest, now bound with plastic sheeting atop a table, his entire body exposed to the harsh glare of a single overhead lamp.
The beam illuminated only the priest, leaving Michael cloaked in the inky shadows of the night.
Watching the old priest writhe with the feeble strength of his aged frame, still reeling from a dose of anesthetic potent enough to fell a stallion, brought a rare, gleeful curve to Michael's typically stoic lips.
He had often attended this priest's sermons at the church, knowing him to be a genuinely good man who tirelessly aided those seeking solace for their troubled souls.
Each time the priest preached about praying to God to draw nearer to His embrace, Michael felt a kinship with him. Though their methods differed in guiding lost sheep to that divine embrace, he deeply respected the priest, a rare comrade in a world of straying flocks.
Out of that respect, Michael had resolved to hasten the priest's journey to God's embrace.
Ignoring the panicked cries so similar to those of countless others who had embarked on this same journey by his hand, Michael plunged his beloved knife, Azrael, into the left side of the priest's chest, where his pure and noble heart beat.
Slub!
With a veteran's precision, the blade pierced the priest's weathered skin, striking his heart. The old man's panicked cries halted, stunned by the sight of a familiar churchgoer driving a knife into his heart.
Meeting the priest's shocked gaze, as if silently pleading "Why?", Michael smiled, heedless of the blood spraying from the wound as he withdrew his cherished blade.
"I've often heard your sermons about praying to draw closer to God's embrace."
"You might wonder why I'm doing this. But it's out of respect. It's rare to find someone so aligned with my path."
"Our ways of guiding lost sheep to His embrace may differ, but I honor you. That's why I've chosen to bring you to Him swiftly."
"No need to thank me. I made it quick so you'd feel no pain, a courtesy I rarely extend, as it deprives me of hearing the heavenly hymns of the lost sheep."
"So rejoice, my friend! You've followed your own teachings, drawing nearer to God's embrace with haste!"
As the light faded from the priest's eyes, mirrored by the dimming glow of the lamp above, as if God's gaze had abandoned the priest's home, Michael smiled, tracing an inverted cross over his chest.
"May God delight in the shepherd I've sent to His embrace."
After cleaning his beloved knife, Michael carved his signature inverted cross into the living room wall of the priest's home.
It was his calling card, a message to the uniformed sheep and the reporters covering his killings, who had always failed to catch him.
There was no grand reason for choosing the inverted cross; he simply found it striking and pleasing to the eye.
Erasing his traces and shedding the plastic raincoat used in his deed, Michael decided to return home to spend the night with his beautiful wife before tending to the other sheep on his list tomorrow.
Arriving at his old, modest home on the town's outskirts, he swapped his mission attire for casual clothes and entered his bedroom.
"I'm home, my dear."
Ignoring the creak of the aged bedroom door, he gazed at his beautiful wife lying on the bed in a pristine white nightgown.
Her hands and feet were shackled to the bedframe, restricting her movement. Her eyes brimmed with tears of joy at his return, her heavenly himme long silenced after months in his embrace.
Her name was Jeanne, and she had previously been a nun at the church where his fellow shepherd often preached.
Michael first saw her during one of the priest's sermons, assisting the old priest in sharing God's teachings with the lost sheep seeking guidance.
Though he had only seen her seven times during his church visits, he knew she was his soulmate.
Just as the Archangel Michael guided Saint Jeanne in the war between France and England, he believed he was destined to guide Sister Jeanne in their domestic battle within his embrace.
Thus, he had willingly taken her as she prayed alone in the church garden. After bringing her from the garden, he took her to his basement, where they were wed in a private ceremony witnessed by God symbolized by an inverted cross.
He still recalled how Jeanne wept with joy in her bridal gown as he slid a simple gold wedding band bought with his hard-earned money onto her finger.
Remembering her blissful head-shaking as he placed the ring, despite her right hand and both feet being bound by family chains in his basement, brought a warm smile to his face as he watched her wait for him in her pure white nightgown.
As on previous nights, Michael crawled onto the bed after shedding his clothes, approaching his wife, who no longer struggled but gazed at him with the conviction of a martyr certain that enduring her suffering would lead to the promised heaven.
Climbing over her tempting pristine body draped in the white nightgown, Michael stroked her silky blonde hair, bringing it to his nose to inhale its scent.
"My dear, you know your stubbornness is just making you hotter."
Cuh!
Feeling her gentle response in the form of a spit, Michael licked the frothy liquid clinging near his nose.
"As always, even your spit tastes pure and delicious."
"Tch, you disgusting devil!"
Turning her head to avoid the devil who had defiled her for months, Jeanne braced herself for the torment ahead, praying for God to claim her swiftly.
"I don't like my praise being claimed by a cheap devil, but since it's you, I'll accept it."
"But, my dear, don't you know Ephesians 5:22 says, 'Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord'?"
"Who's your wife, you bastard?! I'll never be the wife of a psychotic bastard like you!"
Jeanne screamed hoarsely, struggling as she felt his tongue on her neck and his vile hands tracing her body, reaching her breasts.
"I'm delighted you praise me so, my dear Jeanne." Licking her smooth neck, Michael caressed her body, clad only in the pure white nightgown, up to her breasts, pinching her nipples that protruded without a bra to shield them from his gaze. "For that, I'll reward you for being such a devoted wife."
"B-Bastard… who's praising you!"
"Shh! Nuns shouldn't curse."
Kissing her face, his right hand toyed with her breasts while his left slowly descended to her lower body, unhindered by underwear and only slightly veiled by the white nightgown.
"I love your taste in clothing while awaiting your beloved hubby."
"Ugh…"
Though he was the one who dressed her in the white nightgown, what harm was there in teasing her?
He slowly lifted the gown to reveal the sacred hole he never tired of exploring on previous nights.
As always, her sacred hole was neatly trimmed, meticulously cared for by him. With no barrier to impede his left hand, it swiftly reached the moist depths of her sacred place.
"Don't touch there, you bastard!"
Although her mouth refused with curses, her pure body could not resist the fingers of her beloved daddy if he wanted to enter to facilitate the preparation of her sacred hole before his sacred offspring fought to reach the fruit of knowledge inside her womb.
Ignoring her trembling body and the sacred curses uttered by her upper mouth, Michael licked her lower mouth, which was now slightly wet.
"Ahhh..."
The heavenly moan that escaped her mouth truly motivated the movement of his tongue inside her wet sacred hole, even his sacred rod was already screaming in its cage to be released and fertilize the fruit of knowledge in that sacred hole.
After a few minutes of holding back the heavenly moans and making sure the hole was wet, Michael released the cage on his sacred rod and directed it towards the hole while staring at Jeanne, who had now turned her gaze to the side while whispering a prayer that her suffering would quickly pass.
But unfortunately for her... her suffering had only just begun.
"I'm coming in, dear."
Just like his favorite knife that pierced the old priest smoothly, his sacred rod also pierced smoothly into her tight sacred hole.
"Ahhhhh..."
While pressing her body wrapped in a white nightgown, he began to pump his sacred rod into her tight hole.
The tightness of her sacred hole was still the same as when she first bled during their first intercourse, although now it felt softer due to the experience she had gained over months in his arms.
Pa!
Pa!
Pa!
For more than twenty minutes, he continued to pump her sacred hole while playing with her body as Jeanne held back her heavenly moans with all her might.
Her blonde hair was messy on the pillow and her body, covered by her white nightgown, was sweating profusely, making her even hotter.
Kissing her breasts through her white nightgown, Michael continued to pump her sacred hole for a few more minutes until he could no longer hold back.
"I hope you'll get pregnant now, my dear."
Whispering his hope, he began to release his sacred seed into her sacred hole.
Splurt!
As his seed began to fill her hole, Jeanne also came, unable to withstand the pleasure she was feeling.
"Ahhhhh..."
Watching his beloved wife squirt profusely onto his sacred rod, Michael had never felt such satisfaction, especially when he saw his wife's body, still covered in her messy white nightgown, twitching in rhythm with the twitching of his sacred rod.
If God created Heaven, this must be Heaven!
That was the first thought that came to Michael's mind as he watched Jeanne's face and body, covered in sweat, and her white nightgown, which had become slightly transparent due to the amount of sweat coming out of her body.
"As usual, are you ready for the next round, my dear Jeanne?"
While removing the handcuffs from her hands and feet, he whispered to Jeanne, who was still in a trance from the amount of pleasure she had experienced.
Although removing her handcuffs risked her escaping his grasp, he was willing to take that risk because it would give him more pleasure in exploring his wife's body when she was not handcuffed.
Bending his wife over in his favorite position, which showed off her plump ass covered by a semi-transparent white nightgown, he gently pulled her blonde hair and whispered in her ear.
"I'm going in again, dear."
"N-No... P-Please..."
Ignoring his wife's stuttering moans, he roughly inserted his sacred rod into her sacred hole, wet with their sacred fluids.
Pa!
"May God bless us again tonight!"
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A/N: Since Jeanne's backstory in the original story is kinda vague, I messed around with it a bit, so don't expect it to be totally canon there's some AU stuff mixed in.