In medieval Europe, fugitives could escape the death penalty by claiming sanctuary in a church. If a person murdered someone and then ran to the church to claim sanctuary, no one could come in and harm, arrest or remove her for punishment. Even after the Western Roman Empire fell in 476, churches maintained their authority to protect people who had broken major secular laws. In the modern era, churches still offer sanctuary, but it has no legal effect and is respected solely for tradition.
Thanks to Michelle's knowledge of hateful religious people, she knew no one would dare hurt her if she stayed in the church; they would never commit sins such as violence or murder in the Lord's house. They had an image to uphold; they couldn't let their true selves slip in public. Yes, the church wasn't Michelle's favorite place to be, however, it was the main place she knew. She had grown up and lived most of her life in a church; it was a place both her father and husband made sure she stayed. At first, Michelle felt trapped in the church; she didn't know it was her place of refuge; she didn't realize that until she was forced outside of the church. Still, Michelle never left a church alone; she had always left with at least one victim on her arm.
A devil walking the streets of heaven with an angel by her side wasn't a sight the people in town expected to see on a Monday afternoon; however, here the townspeople were watching the horrid sight unfold in front of their eyes. They watched the devil walk past their houses, their eyes filled with judgment and disgust as they watched her walk by. Michelle, the woman they seemed to despise, walked the streets of the town she once called home. It wasn't the home she wanted, it was the home she was forced to live in until she found a way out for herself. She had left the moment she was given the chance to escape the hateful town, leaving the people to find someone else to direct their hateful glares at.
Hateful glares and looks of disgust were the welcome-back gifts she received. Although most looks were hateful glares, some were looks of pure lust. The men didn't even bother to hide their desires; they let it show in their gazes which were directed at the devil's curves. While men lusted after the entity of evil, the women glared gratefully at the woman. The women didn't bother to hide their jealousy and hate either; they wanted her to know she was hated. The women and men had different reactions to the woman they claimed to be the devil. Still, both genders almost screamed when they saw an innocent angel mindlessly walking beside the she-devil, an angel they knew all too well.
"Is that Beyoncé?" one man asked.
"Who?" another man asked.
"Beyoncé, you know Lyndall's wife, well Lyndall's widow."
The man gasped as he suddenly remembered who his friend was referring to. "Yeah, that is Beyoncé. Wait, what is she doing with that lady? That ain't the type of woman she would want to be around. Well, at least she ain't the kind of woman her father would want to see her be with."
"Ain't that right! That woman right there ain't nothing but trouble and Lord knows I love me some trouble," the man said laughing loudly.
The man's friend laughed as well before saying, "Oh, and her husband is dead and gone. Shoot, I'd give her a nice shoulder to cry on and hopefully, she'll give me a little something in return for my comfort."
"Oh, you know she will but if that doesn't work, just slip her a couple of dollars and she'll do it. Hell, she'd probably do it for free, you just never know with that one."
While the men talked, their wives talked as well. "That woman is nothing but a tramp. This was holy ground until she arrived and you know the ground she walks on immediately turns into filth."
"Can you believe her husband and father were pastors? Lord, I don't know where her father went wrong with her."
"He went wrong the moment he laid down with the whore that birthed that devil."
