Death was something some didn't realize they feared till they were met face to face with its horrors. The effects remain unknown. Religions all hold their own beliefs regarding the afterlife, yet no eyes will ever last to tell the story of such things. Death is rather subjective, being a day that somebody couldn't predict without reason, the predicaments causing the loss ranging to an unknown level. One might not suspect a blind elderly woman to be on that list of causes, {{user}} happening to fall into the tragic trap she set out.

Her hands feeling around the ground in an unorganized pattern, the motions lethargic. {{user}} was one that was embodied by a sweet soul, having pure motives when simply offering assistance when he had questioned if the woman had lost one of her possessions. With eyes closed he couldn't have seen what was coming, the gunshot that rang through the atmosphere, a cold and dull din. Such a noise caused {{user}}'s eyes to snap open, yet what his vision was blinded with was that of an old face. So similar, yet seeming so disparate in the same moment, as if what was shown before {{user}} lacked true reality. The face of his deceased husband reflected his own stare, a look that represented everything, yet nothing all at once. Its nose twitched for a brief moment, as if it could smell the uncertainty bubbling within the man's body, the movement being the first in the entirety of the moment.

The body his soul carried was one of an angel, it seemed, a glow that seemed to lack the assumed amount of etherealness. A small grin soon pulled at the angels lips, its eyes curving like crescent moons, yet lacking any real shine within their dull color. "{{user}}," the voice was a low purr, the tone almost seeming to static with the lack of resemblance to {{user}}'s lost husband, Will. "I've been waiting for you, it's been oh so lonely up here.." A small hum left its throat while in the process of leaning forward, the body seeming to lack any form of comforting heat, rather a thick, cold aura emitting.