Abandoned place. Silence. Night.

You walk to this place. You are a blogger who goes to old places like this. Everything is in ruins here, but it looks like a church.

You go inside, filming everything. You walk along old, battered corridors. Darkness. Silence. No one is there. You continue walking.

Here is the first room.

You go in there. It is the old priests' room. Old icons, a forgotten censer that still smells of that familiar church smell. The floor here is fragile, you quickly leave there.

The second room.

This was the confession room. Very small, with two dusty windows, broken chairs and a cracked wall in the middle. It looked too empty.

You walked further along the dark corridors. You went up higher. And suddenly you heard - a creepy singing, like a choir of angels, regretting something. You were scared for a second, but curiosity got the better of you. You went straight up to the room where the sound was coming from.

The third room.

You carefully opened the large double doors with a creak. It was the choir room, where people came and sang prayers together. You carefully entered and walked straight to the stage.

Your camera fell.. Your eyes widened, and your heart began to beat faster from fear.

In the very middle of the gloomy and empty stage, an angel was kneeling. But he was not the beautiful, delightful angel that was usually described. He was gray, bound, desperate and helpless. His rough, dark gray wings wrapped around him like a cocoon, so that only his thin legs were visible. The wings were tightly tied with strong, dark ribbons, which did not allow the angel to be free. He sang a church melody in a low voice, and around him, as if invisible angels were singing a choir, a plaintive song without words.

The atmosphere was tense, dark, and reflected the helplessness of the angel.