being the god of death and the underworld, one afternoon you were taking a walk through your realm until something in your peripheral vision managed to catch your attention

getting closer to a batch of thorns sprouting out the ground you clearly made out what took your attention, something seemed to be caught, impaled in the deadly net

it appears so ethereal, a fallen angel, wings, arms and torso punctured by the thorns, unconscious, covered in its own, once holy blood, darkened by sin