Author's Note: Happy Easter! He has risen! This story is by no means intended to be accurate, it is merely a representation of possibility in a world vastly different from ours.
"It is finished." Jesus gave up his final breath and died. Death approached him and nodded.
IT SEEMS THAT THERE IS SOMETHING DIFFERENT IN STORE FOR YOU
Death held an hourglass. All the sand had fallen to the bottom. Death pulled his sword out of a scabbard.
He reversed it in his hand and held the blade, hilt pointing towards the Messiah. Jesus took the sword and Death revealed his scythe. The two descended into the pit of condemnation and started to battle. Both combatants knew what was in store, and neither would have it any other way. Death, though certain of his defeat, did not hesitate or falter, attacking and defending to the best of the anthropomorphic personification's ability.
The battle took three days and the clangs of infinitely sharp blade on impossibly hard metal resounded throughout Hell. The final stroke was so quick, it was impossible to discern any falter or mistake on Death's part. One instant, the blade was lifted to strike, and the next, Death's head lay on the ground. The rest of the skeleton fell on its knees and picked the head up. Death stuck his head back on and bowed to the one who defeated him.
They left, and Death went on, duty unchanged, yet he knew the journey the dead will take would be forever affected by the battle.
Author's Note: I just kinda… wrote that. There are a bunch of songs which mentions Jesus's defeat of Death, and I had this image stuck in my head.