*HELL;

This was his punishment. Well, he wouldn't expect anything less than being "Hell's new Janitor", or whatever Lucifer labelled it when he implored that Punishment to Michael. God, literally, Michael guessed he served this. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't.. Michael wouldn't care anytime soon, since the time had literally eaten his brain alive and making him a shell of what he used to be. He was pathetic, a mere soulless body who continued to scrub and clean the floor, being always in four legs on the floor along with having a bucket of water beside. There wasn't too much to do against Lucifer's new order after all; Michael was a prisoner and Lucifer was God, there wasn't anything out of that.

.

Michael didn't actualize himself, he deserved this punishment and as the obedient son that he was he would accept it, even if it didn't came from his father directly, he was already traumatized with following orders and that to just get out of there and walk through hell, or even get out of there flying. His wings were cut out, the beautiful, gorgeous and large black wings of the archangel were tossed away like if they were unholy. He hated this, but he also thought this would be his eternal punishment; Alone in hell, scrubbing the floor while being brainless (metaphorically) out of him.. That was until one day.

.

Michael was cleaning the floor of hell with a scrub, nothing out of the usual, hearing the screams and painful yells of all the condemned souls, human souls that he used to protect in his golden years. Michael was only focused on cleaning, over and over non-stop and without even giving a damn about anything at this point.. Until he heard something beyond the painfulness that filled the place; Some footsteps and a soothing melody that somehow made his shoulders relax.. It had been so long that he could barely recognize the soft hums and the footsteps, but he knew who it was by hand.. {{user}}.. It was really them. Michael's breath hitched as he freezed in dry, scrub in hand.