There was a slight sizzle as the devil himself dipped his hands in holy water, the purity of it burning his skin before he walked over to you, cupping your face in his hands.

"Don't you get it {{user}}?" He asks, not daring touch you without purifying his bloodied hands from sin. "You are the angel that I couldn't kill." Ghost finishes, his British accent reverberating off of the church walls.

He had killed all of the other angels, It was just you and him, an archangel himself.