First, let my introduce myself. My name is Thano, I live in Albania and I am at my early teens. I always had a strong affection for paranormal and religious stories, so I have been dealing with religious and theological books since I was 4-5.My grandparents were very religious and taught me to be righteous and sincere with everybody. Anyway, let's skip to my story.
When I was a child (2 years old), my paternal grandmother was diagnosed with liver cancer. The doctors couldn't do anything about her, just to implant an artificial item that would assist the remaining liver. My grandmother came to Greece (the place where I lived until I was five) and decided to make the surgery there.
One day before the surgery, my father saw a vision (not a dream). My father just got home late from work and went to the bed. I was sleeping in my small bed, while my mother was watching TV. My father took a shower, drank a glass of milk and went to bed. My parents turned off the TV and fell asleep. After a few hours, around 4:00 am, my father suddenly woke up. He heard a strong noise coming from outside the house. My mother didn't wake up, only my father.
Suddenly, he heard the door knob getting opened and the door started slowly opening. My father was staring at the door and was terrified to see the Archangel of Death, standing at the opened door. My father describes him as being tall, thin, and muscular and having a pair of black, feathered wings. He had a hood and had a pale skin, along with black eyes and hair. He held a large scythe in his hand and a large cloak, covering his thin body. He started staring at my father for a few seconds. My father went from being terrified got curious and confused.
My father asked him "What do you want? Why you are here?" However, the angel didn't respond, just kept staring at my father. Finally, my father got the point of the angel's visit and asked "Is my mother going to die?". Death closed his eyes and lowered his head, showing sadness and desperation. He slowly left the room and closed the door, leaving my father alone.
The next morning, my father went to the church near our house and told the priest about the vision and the encounter with the angel. The priest got terrified and told my father that the angel is called Azrael and is the Archangel of Death! A few days later, my grandmother took the surgery and it was unsuccessful. She died a few days after the surgery.
My father remembered Azrael and the sadness that he showed when my father asked him. Nowadays, we live in Albania and my father still tells this story every time that I ask him about grandmother. It terrifies me when I think that I have stood in the same room with Death long ago and that my father actually spoke to him.
I haven't been in that room for a long time (maybe 10 years) and I am afraid to go. I have been many times in Greece, but never went to that room again. I am just too too afraid that I may meet Azrael personally, although we will all meet him someday.