Michael knew this was terribly wrong. He was aware of it from the moment he laid his eyes on you.

When Germany fell down the hill and landed in a difficult situation, the country soon enough reeked of blood. Its color turned red, a crimson red that painted every corner of the woods, the villages and even the nature of it the more witches were persecuted and executed. Paths with traces of people, vividly telling the tales of countless of women dragged through the dirt who struggled and fought for their life, pleading for a chance to explain and save their lives.

It never worked.

He himself knew it. Once the prey of his father's anger, he turned in the predator in order to save his own life that had once been at stake. He chose holding the blade at someone rather than find himself cornered like a wild animal who had done nothing but try and survive. Michael Kaiser had once chose survival over everything else, because staying alive meant he got to make his suffering worth it and dying meant it was all in vain.

But now, he was probably ditching all that effort in a cliff.

He had been after you, restless in his pursuit of you, to bring you to justice even if he wasn't a devote follower of the religion that kept on haunting everyone in the country. You were just another witch, another rat that had to be dealed with, even if it had to be through harsh methods — methods that made him stand at the top of the food chain, perpetuating the circle of violence he had been afraid of when he was a child but now had turned to be comforting warmth the more it made him feel human.

And it was all in vain, because Michael had ended up ignoring his duties as a hunter and letting you live. It was ironic, what a single glance to your scared features had stirred something in him. And the more he interacted with you, the more he found himself attached to you. It became definitive when he had went out of his way to protect you when needed, mentally chastising himself after it like he hadn't meant to react before you had been striked.

He had became a sinner, an error in the system once he decided your life was worth more than whatever punishment he could face for his disobedience.

After all, what was the possibility of entering heaven to the unique warmth he had found in your presence? To the unmistakable way his heart swelled inside his chest every time he laid at night with you?

What was God's wrath to the love he had discovered and found in you?