26 Gods and Goddesses of Death and the Underworld, From Hades to Kali

Every culture that has ever buried its dead has imagined someone waiting on the other side.

Sometimes that figure is a judge, weighing a life and assigning it a destination. Sometimes a gatekeeper who simply opens the door. Sometimes a ferryman, a hunter, a devouring mouth, or a queen on a throne in a cold country beneath the world. The details vary enormously — but the fact of the figure does not. Egyptian, Norse, Aztec, Māori, Inuit, Slavic, Japanese: all of them put a name and a face to death.

That near-universality is the interesting part. Some of these figures did travel: Buddhism carried Yama across Asia, Batara Kala’s name arrived in Java on a Sanskrit root, and Zoroastrian dualism left marks on traditions that met Persia. But many of the cultures below never made contact with one another, and reached the same idea independently — because every society has to answer the same question, and a personified death is the answer humans reach for first.

What follows are 26 of them, grouped by what they actually do. The rulers come first — the gods who govern the realm of the dead as a kingdom. Then the guides, who move souls from one world to the next. Then the destroyers, whose domain is not the afterlife but the ending itself.

What Makes a God a “God of Death”?

Three distinct jobs get collapsed into the phrase, and separating them makes the whole list easier to read.

Rulers of the underworld govern a place. Hades, Hel, Yama, Mictlantecuhtli and Ah Puch are administrators of a realm with geography, laws and inhabitants. Notably, most of them do not kill anyone. Hades is not the cause of death in Greek myth any more than a king is the cause of his subjects’ birth.

Psychopomps — from the Greek psychopompos, “guide of souls” — do the moving. Anubis, Thanatos and Meng Po handle the transition itself: escorting, weighing, ferrying, erasing memory. They are the ones a dying person would actually meet. Beside them sit the announcers, who move nobody: the Morrígan appears when a death has already been decided, and her arrival is the news rather than the cause.

Destroyers are a different category that the phrase “god of death” tends to swallow. Shiva, Sekhmet and Apophis preside over ending, dissolution and chaos rather than over the dead, and in a strict reading some are not death gods at all — the entries below say so where that is the case. Mot is the boundary: he is death, and the dead go down into him, but he governs nothing once they arrive.

One more distinction worth keeping: a god of death is not the same as an evil god. This is the most common misreading. Most of these figures are neutral functionaries of a necessary process, and several — Osiris, Freyja, Sedna — are objects of genuine affection in their own traditions. Death gods became villains largely in later, and mostly Christian-influenced, retellings.

The 26 Gods at a Glance

Gods of Death and the Underworld on Video

1. Hades — Greek Ruler of the Underworld

Hades drew the worst lot. When the three brothers divided the cosmos after overthrowing the Titans, Zeus took the sky and Poseidon the sea; Hades got everything below. He rarely left it, and the Greeks were wary enough of his name that they often called him Plouton — “the wealthy one” — a reference to the mineral riches of the earth rather than to anything grim.

The most persistent misreading of Greek myth is that Hades is a devil figure. He is not. He does not tempt, punish for its own sake, or cause deaths. He administers a realm and enforces one rule with total consistency: what enters does not leave. Orpheus nearly bent it and lost. Sisyphus cheated it twice and was given an eternity of pointless labour for the trouble.

His abduction of Persephone is the exception that defines him — the one time he reached upward, and the myth that explained the seasons to an entire civilisation. You can see him and his realm rendered in marble among the statues of the Greek gods, usually with the three-headed dog Cerberus at his feet.

2. Osiris — Egyptian Ruler and Judge of the Dead

Osiris was murdered by his brother Set, dismembered, reassembled by his wife Isis, and became the first being to return from death — which is precisely why the Egyptians trusted him to preside over everyone else’s.

He is the reason Egyptian funerary practice looks the way it does. Mummification imitates what was done to Osiris; the dead were addressed as “the Osiris [name]” because the goal was to repeat his transformation. In the judgement scene, he sits at the far end of the hall while the heart is weighed, and he issues the verdict.

He is usually shown wrapped like a mummy, holding the crook and flail, with skin of green or black — green for vegetation, black for the fertile Nile silt. Neither is a colour of decay. Both are colours of the ground coming back.

3. Yama — Hindu and Buddhist Judge of the Dead

Yama has the strongest claim of anyone here to knowing what he is doing: in the Rigveda he is the first mortal to die, and he became lord of the dead by arriving first and finding the way.

That origin gives him a moral weight the others lack. He is not an outsider to death. He is its first participant, and the Hindu tradition calls him Dharmaraja — king of dharma — because his function is the impartial application of a rule rather than the exercise of will. The Garuda Purana describes his court in procedural detail, with a record-keeper named Chitragupta reading out an itemised account of a life.

Yama travelled further than almost any deity in this list. Buddhism carried him across Asia, and he appears as Yanluo in China, Enma in Japan, and Shinje in Tibet — the same office, staffed under different names, in cultures that share almost nothing else.

4. Hel — Norse Ruler of the Realm That Bears Her Name

Hel is described in the Prose Edda as half living flesh and half corpse, and Snorri Sturluson gives her a household of grimly literal furniture: a hall called Éljúðnir, “sleet-cold”; a dish called Hunger; a knife called Famine.

She is a daughter of Loki, and Odin sent her down to Niflheim to govern the dead who do not die in battle — which is to say, most people. This is worth stressing, because the popular version of the Norse afterlife is all Valhalla and mead. Valhalla was for a small minority of the slain. Hel’s realm was the ordinary destination.

She is also unbudgeable. When the gods sent an emissary to buy Baldr back from her, she named a condition — that every living thing weep for him — and when one giantess refused, she kept him. She does not negotiate twice. The English word “hell” and the name of her realm share a common Germanic root — Proto-Germanic *haljō — rather than one descending from the other, and the Christian concept attached to the English word later and from elsewhere.

5. Mictlantecuhtli — Aztec Lord of Mictlan

Mictlantecuhtli rules Mictlan, the lowest of nine underworlds, and the journey to reach him takes four years. The dead cross rivers, pass between colliding mountains, climb a hill of obsidian blades and endure a wind carrying knives — and they are equipped for it, buried with provisions and often with a dog to help them across the water.

He is depicted with startling directness: a skeletal figure with a liver hanging from his ribcage, spotted with blood, wearing sandals and a necklace of eyeballs. Aztec art did not soften this.

What matters is that Mictlan was not a punishment. Where a person went after death was determined by how they died, not by how they behaved — the drowned went to a paradise of the rain god, women who died in childbirth were honoured as warriors — and Mictlan was simply where most people ended up. The four-year ordeal is a passage, not a sentence.

6. Ah Puch — Maya God of the Lowest Underworld

Ah Puch presides over Mitnal, the lowest and worst layer of the Maya underworld, and appears in the codices as a bloated corpse-figure or a skeleton hung with bells.

The name itself is worth a caveat that most lists skip. “Ah Puch” comes from colonial-era sources, and modern Mayanists more often use the neutral designation God A, assigned from the codices, because the Maya death gods are a family rather than an individual and the correspondences between names and images are not settled. The Popol Vuh tells of the Hero Twins outwitting the lords of Xibalbá — a related underworld tradition, not identical to Mitnal.

He is associated with owls and with the smell of decay, and he is one of the few deities in this list who is genuinely feared rather than merely respected. Where Hades administers and Yama judges, Ah Puch is closer to a predator.

7. Erlik — Turkic and Siberian Ruler of the Underworld

Erlik — also written Erlik Khan or Erlig — is the ruler of the underworld across Turkic and Mongolic tradition, from the Altai to Siberia. In the Altai creation story he is the creator’s first companion, sent to bring up mud from beneath the primordial water — and he holds some back in his mouth, which is where the world’s crooked and inhospitable places come from. Cast down for it, he takes the world below.

He is a genuine adversary rather than an administrator: he sends disease, he claims souls, and Altai shamans described descending through layers of his realm to bargain with him directly. Those shamanic journey-narratives are the richest surviving source for him. He is a rare case of a death god who is also an origin story for imperfection.

8. Sedna — Inuit Sea Mother and Ruler of Adlivun

Sedna’s myth is among the harshest in world mythology, and it is not softened here because the softening is the distortion.

In the most widespread version, a young woman is thrown from a boat by her own father in a storm. She clings to the side; her fingers are cut away; the severed joints become the seals, walruses and whales. She sinks and becomes the ruler of the sea and of Adlivun, the Inuit underworld beneath it.

She therefore controls the food supply, and this is the point of her. When she is angry — usually because a human has broken a taboo — she withholds the animals, and famine follows. An angakkuq, an Inuit shaman, was expected to travel to her and comb her hair, since without fingers she cannot do it herself. Appeasing her is a practical act with a practical outcome. Her name varies widely across the Arctic: Nuliajuk, Takannaaluk, Arnakuagsak.

9. Whiro — Māori Lord of Darkness and Disease

Whiro is the personification of evil, darkness and sickness in Māori tradition, and he is associated with the underworld below. (Accounts differ between iwi, and Māori tradition more often names Rarohenga as the domain of Hine-nui-te-pō.) He is the perpetual antagonist of Tāne, the god of forests and of life, and the two are locked in an unresolved contest.

The core narrative is a defeat. Whiro contested with Tāne over the ascent to the heavens to retrieve the baskets of knowledge, and lost — after which he withdrew below and turned to attacking humanity indirectly, sending illness and decay. He is said to feed on the dead, and to grow stronger as he does.

Māori tradition is oral, regionally varied and still living. What is consistent across the variants is his function: he is the reason things rot, sicken and fail, and the counterweight that makes Tāne’s world of light meaningful.

10. Anubis — Egyptian Guide and Weigher of Hearts

Anubis is the most recognisable figure in this list and one of the oldest — he predates Osiris as Egypt’s principal funerary god, and was only later folded into a supporting role in the Osiris myth.

His jackal head is not decorative. Jackals scavenged the desert cemeteries at the edge of the Nile valley, and a god with a jackal’s head is the animal that threatens the dead reassigned as their protector.

His central scene is the weighing of the heart. Anubis operates the scales, setting the heart of the deceased against the feather of Ma’at — truth, order, the correct arrangement of things. Balance means passage. Imbalance means the heart is eaten by Ammit and the person ceases to exist entirely, which is a bleaker outcome than any punishment. He is also the patron of embalming, and priests performing mummification wore jackal masks to work as him. Egyptian sculpture returns to him constantly, and he stands among the most famous statues in the world.

11. Thanatos — Greek Personification of Death

Thanatos is death itself rather than a god who governs the dead — the distinction the Greeks maintained and most retellings collapse. Hesiod makes him the son of Nyx (Night) and the twin of Hypnos (Sleep), which is one of the more elegant pieces of theology in the tradition.

He is not cruel. Homer shows Thanatos and Hypnos carrying the body of Sarpedon gently home from Troy for burial. He is the mechanism of a gentle or natural death, distinct from the Keres, the violent death-spirits who tear the fallen apart on the battlefield.

He is also, unusually, beatable. Sisyphus trapped him in chains, and while he was bound nobody on earth could die. Heracles wrestled him for Alcestis’ life and won. These stories are not irreverence — they are a culture testing the edges of a rule it knows to be absolute, and finding that even the exceptions are temporary.

12. Meng Po — Chinese Goddess of Forgetting

Meng Po — “Old Lady Meng” — occupies the last position in the Chinese underworld before rebirth, and her job is deletion.

Souls that have completed their passage through Diyu arrive at her station on the bridge of forgetfulness and are given a broth. Drinking it erases the memory of the life just lived and of everything witnessed below, so that the soul enters its next life blank. Without her, reincarnation would accumulate rather than reset.

She belongs to later folk Buddhism rather than to the classical canon, and she is a syncretic figure — Chinese folk religion, Buddhist rebirth doctrine and Daoist bureaucratic afterlife layered together. She is also the gentlest figure here, usually depicted as an unremarkable old woman with a bowl, and the tradition credits her with a kind of mercy: whatever a life contained, she takes the weight of it off before the next one starts.

13. Shinigami — Japanese Death Spirits

Shinigami are a class of beings rather than a single deity, and they are considerably more modern than their popular profile suggests — which is why this entry is framed as a caveat as much as a description.

The word appears in Japanese literature from the Edo period onward, and the concept owes a good deal to Buddhist ideas imported from China and to Western personifications of Death encountered later. Classical Shinto has no shinigami. Japan’s older death mythology centres on Izanami and the realm of Yomi, which is a separate and much earlier tradition.

In the Edo material, shinigami tend to work by invitation rather than force — they draw people toward death, particularly in double-suicide narratives in kabuki and bunraku. The scythe-carrying reaper familiar from manga and anime is a twentieth-century composite. Included here because the tradition is real and widely searched, with its recency stated rather than glossed over.

14. Hecate — Greek Goddess of Crossroads and Ghosts

Hecate is not a death goddess in the way Hades is, and she earns her place through proximity to the dead rather than authority over them.

She is the goddess of crossroads, boundaries, the moon and magic — and crossroads in the Greek imagination were where the dead gathered and where the barrier between worlds was thinnest. Offerings were left at three-way junctions for her, and she is among the most frequently invoked figures in the surviving Greek magical papyri — a body of text where the male Greek gods of the Olympian mainstream appear far less often than she does.

She is often shown in triple form, three bodies facing three directions, holding torches — she is one of the few figures who moves freely between the upper world and the lower, and she carries light into it. In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter she is the one who hears Persephone’s cry and helps search. Hesiod, unusually, treats her with real reverence, granting her a share in earth, sea and sky.

15. Morrígan — Irish Goddess Who Foretells Death

The Morrígan does not cause death. She announces it, and in Irish myth that is more frightening.

She appears at battles as a crow or raven, and her presence is a verdict already reached. In the Ulster Cycle she is a recurring and ambiguous figure around Cú Chulainn — she offers him help, is refused, opposes him, and finally appears as a crow on his shoulder as he dies bound upright to a standing stone, which is the moment his enemies know it is safe to approach.

Her name is usually read as “phantom queen” or “great queen”, and the sources are inconsistent about whether she is one goddess or three — Badb, Macha and Nemain appear sometimes as her sisters, sometimes as her aspects. Medieval Irish manuscripts were written by Christian scribes recording an older oral tradition, and the inconsistency is probably in the transmission. She is also a goddess of sovereignty, which ties the fate of a king to the land itself.

16. Freyja — Norse Goddess Who Receives Half the Slain

Freyja’s inclusion needs justifying, because she is primarily a goddess of love, fertility, gold and seiðr — Norse sorcery — and appears on very few death-god lists.

She belongs here on a specific and well-attested point: Grímnismál states that Freyja takes half of those who fall in battle to her field Fólkvangr, and Odin takes the other half to Valhalla. That makes her one of the principal receivers of the dead in the Norse system, not a peripheral one, and the popular Valhalla-only picture of the Norse afterlife is simply incomplete without her. (The poem does not state an order; retellings that give Freyja the first pick are reading that in.)

She also owns the cloak of falcon feathers, drives a chariot drawn by cats, and weeps tears of red gold for her absent husband Óðr. The contrast is the point, and it is characteristic of Norse religion: the same goddess governs desire and the harvest and receives the battlefield dead, with no sense that these are in tension.

17. Shiva — Hindu Destroyer and Transformer

Shiva is called the Destroyer, and every serious account of him immediately qualifies it, because the English word carries the wrong connotation almost entirely.

Within the Trimurti — Brahma creates, Vishnu preserves, Shiva destroys — destruction is the necessary clearing that makes the next cycle possible. His dance, the Tandava, dissolves the universe so that it can be remade. The Nataraja bronze that renders this is one of the most reproduced religious images in the world: Shiva dancing inside a ring of fire, one foot on the dwarf of ignorance, one hand raised in a gesture meaning “do not fear”.

He is also the great ascetic, seated in meditation on Mount Kailash, and a householder with a wife and two sons. Śaiva traditions hold him as the supreme being rather than one of three. He is not a god of the dead. He is a god of endings, which is a different office and a larger one.

18. Kali — Hindu Goddess of Time and Destruction

Kali’s name comes from kāla, time — and time is the thing that destroys everything, which makes her the most philosophically direct figure on this list.

Her iconography is confrontational by design: black or dark blue, a garland of severed heads, a skirt of severed arms, tongue extended, standing on the body of Shiva. It is genuinely alarming and it is meant to be, because what she destroys is the ego and the illusion of permanence, and the tradition holds that this cannot be done gently.

She emerges in the Devi Mahatmya from the brow of the goddess Durga in a battle rage and cannot be stopped until Shiva lies down in her path — she stops the instant she recognises him. In Bengal she is not feared but loved, addressed as Kali Ma, mother. Devotional poets such as Ramprasad Sen wrote to her with startling intimacy. A goddess of destruction who is worshipped as a mother is a resolution most traditions never attempt.

19. Sekhmet — Egyptian Goddess of War and Plague

Sekhmet is the lion-headed daughter of Ra, and her defining myth is one of the very few in which the gods lose control of something they made.

Ra sent out his Eye, which took form as Sekhmet, to punish humanity for rebellion. She did it so thoroughly, and enjoyed it so much, that she could not be recalled — she would have finished the species. The gods dyed seven thousand jars of beer red with ochre and flooded the fields — the figure comes from the Book of the Heavenly Cow; she drank the plain dry believing it was blood, fell asleep, and woke calmed.

Her name means “the powerful one”. She brought plague — her arrows and her hot desert wind — and she also cured it: her priests were physicians, and the same goddess who sent an epidemic was petitioned to lift it. An annual festival of drunkenness re-enacted her pacification. She is a destroyer rather than a death god in the strict sense, which is the distinction this list keeps.

20. Apophis — Egyptian Serpent of Chaos

Apophis (Egyptian Apep) is not a god of death and is arguably not a god at all — he is the enemy of existence, and he is included because his role in the Egyptian afterlife is inescapable.

Every night Ra’s solar barque travels through the underworld, and every night Apophis attacks it — an enormous serpent attempting to swallow the sun and end the ordered world. He is defeated nightly and never destroyed, because the point is that the threat is permanent. Sunrise is a victory that has to be re-won.

The dead assisted in this. Spells in the Book of the Dead equip the deceased to help repel him, which gives the Egyptian afterlife an active, participatory quality unusual among the traditions here. Egyptian priests also opposed him liturgically, on a schedule: an execration text called the Book of Overthrowing Apep prescribed making wax models of the serpent and destroying them by name.

21. Ahriman — Zoroastrian Destructive Spirit

Ahriman — Angra Mainyu in the older Avestan — is the destructive spirit of Zoroastrianism and the closest thing in the ancient world to a pure principle of evil.

The structure matters, because it is the origin of a great deal of later religious thought. Zoroastrianism sets Ahriman against Ahura Mazda, the wise lord, in a conflict that is genuinely dualistic. Ahriman did not fall from grace and is not a rebellious subordinate; he is a counter-force, and everything harmful — disease, decay, the lie, death itself — is his creation or corruption.

Crucially, he loses. Zoroastrian eschatology is explicit that the conflict is finite and resolves in Ahura Mazda’s favour, with the world restored and Ahriman rendered powerless. Scholars have long noted how much of this framework — an adversary, a final judgement, a resolution — appears in later traditions that had contact with Persia. The lines of influence are debated; the resemblance is not.

22. Chernobog — The Slavic “Black God”

Chernobog is the most poorly attested figure in this list, and saying so is the honest way to include him.

Essentially everything known comes from one source: Helmold of Bosau, a twelfth-century German priest, who wrote in his Chronica Slavorum that the Wagri and Obodrites of the Elbe invoked an evil god they called Zcerneboch, the black god, at feasts. That is close to the whole of the primary evidence. The name is transparent — čorno black, bog god — and appears in the Serbian form Crnobog and the Czech Černoboh.

A counterpart Belobog, a “white god”, is often paired with him, but Belobog rests on even thinner ground and may be a later scholarly invention constructed for symmetry. His modern profile is enormous and almost entirely borrowed — Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain, Disney’s Fantasia, and a long tail of fantasy fiction. Modern Slavic reconstructionists take him seriously. The medieval record does not support most of what is now said about him.

23. Mot — Canaanite God of Death Itself

Mot is death as a mouth. His name is simply the Semitic word for death, and the Ugaritic tablets describe him with a lip touching the earth and a lip touching the sky, swallowing everything that passes between.

He is the antagonist of the Baal Cycle, the major surviving Canaanite epic, recovered at Ras Shamra in modern Syria — the site identified in 1928, the tablets excavated from 1929. Baal, god of storm and rain, descends into Mot’s throat and dies; drought follows; Baal’s sister Anat finds Mot, splits him, winnows him, burns him and scatters him on the fields. Baal returns, and the two fight again — a seasonal cycle written as a family conflict.

What distinguishes Mot is the absence of any administrative function. He does not judge, guide or rule a kingdom of the dead. He consumes. The Canaanite underworld is his gullet, and the dead go down into it. The Hebrew Bible uses the same word, māweṯ, sometimes in ways that echo this personification.

24. Batara Kala — Javanese and Balinese Devourer of Time

Batara Kala is the Javanese and Balinese god of time and destruction, and his name carries the same root as Kali — Sanskrit kāla, time — which is not a coincidence but a trace of the Hindu-Buddhist influence that shaped Java for centuries.

In the wayang tradition he is born when Shiva’s spilled seed falls into the sea, and grows into a monstrous, tusked giant with an appetite for particular categories of human being — an only child, for instance, or one of five siblings, or a person born on certain days. Those in the vulnerable categories require a purification ceremony, the ruwatan, in which a dalang performs the story of Batara Kala and formally releases the person from his claim.

This is the most functionally alive entry on the list. Ruwatan is not a myth recorded in a manuscript; it is a ceremony that is still performed, for people who are still considered at risk.

25. Coatlicue — Aztec Mother of Womb and Grave

Coatlicue is the Aztec earth mother, and she embodies the argument that the thing that produces life and the thing that consumes it are the same thing.

Her name means “serpent skirt”, and the colossal basalt statue of her recovered in Mexico City in 1790 renders it literally: a skirt of woven snakes, a necklace of hands and hearts with a skull pendant, and in place of a head two facing serpents formed from the blood of her severed neck. It is one of the most confronting objects in any museum, and a fixture on any list of the world’s most famous statues.

She is the mother of Huitzilopochtli, the Mexica patron god, conceived from a ball of feathers — and when her existing children moved to kill her for the disgrace, Huitzilopochtli was born fully armed and destroyed them. She is the earth that receives the dead and the earth that grows the maize. Aztec religion did not treat that as a contradiction requiring resolution, and reading her as a death goddess alone misses the point of her.

26. Adro — Lugbara God of the Death-Bringing Aspect

Adro closes this list with a structure none of the others use.

Among the Lugbara of north-western Uganda and north-eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo, the creator god has two aspects. Adroa is the remote, transcendent, benevolent aspect, associated with the sky and essentially uninvolved. Adro is the same god as immanent presence — in rivers, in the bush, close to human settlements — and it is Adro who brings death, sickness and misfortune.

Adro is described as visible to the dying: a tall, pale, one-sided figure — half a body only, as though split lengthwise — encountered near streams. Seeing him is understood as a sign that death is near. This is not a good god opposed by an evil one. It is one god whose nearness is dangerous, and the danger is a property of proximity rather than of malice. The ethnographic record here rests substantially on John Middleton’s fieldwork from the 1950s.

Gods of Death and the Underworld — In Conclusion

Set these twenty-six side by side and the differences are less interesting than what keeps recurring.

Almost none of them are evil. Hades administers, Yama applies a rule, Anubis holds the scales level, Meng Po offers a bowl of broth so the next life can start clean. The genuinely malevolent figures — Ahriman, Whiro, Adro — are a minority, and even they are usually explaining why the world contains suffering rather than delighting in it. The idea that a death god must be a villain is largely a later import, and it flattens most of what is actually in these traditions.

The second recurrence is the journey. Mictlan takes four years and an obsidian mountain. The Egyptian dead face a hall, a scale and a set of declarations. Chinese souls cross a bridge and drink. Death is almost never a door in these systems; it is a road, with terrain and hazards and something to be got through.

And the third is that the same figure so often holds both ends. Coatlicue is womb and grave. Shiva destroys so the cycle can restart. Sedna’s severed fingers become the animals that keep her people alive. Freyja governs love and takes the battle-slain.

That may be the closest thing to a universal here. Cultures that never met each other kept arriving at the conclusion that whatever ends things is not separate from whatever starts them.

Image Credits

Every image on this page is public domain, CC0, or used under a Creative Commons licence, and every file was checked on its Wikimedia Commons file page. The 26 images in the article body are listed below with their source and licence; the featured title card is an original composite built from four public-domain files already credited here (Hades, Kali, Hel, Sekhmet); the CC BY and CC BY-SA files additionally name their author, as those licences require.

• 1. Hades — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 2. Osiris — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC0
• 3. Yama — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 4. Hel — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 5. Mictlantecuhtli — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 4.0, Pedro Sánchez
• 6. Ah Puch — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 7. Erlik — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 8. Sedna — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 4.0, Caroline Léna Becker (photograph); sculpture by Nuvualiak Alariak
• 9. Whiro — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 4.0, Johnragla
• 10. Anubis — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 3.0 FR, Rama
• 11. Thanatos — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 2.5, ChrisO
• 12. Meng Po — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY 2.0, Jnzl’s Photos
• 13. Shinigami — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 14. Hecate — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 15. Morrígan — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 16. Freyja — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 17. Shiva — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 18. Kali — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 19. Sekhmet — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 20. Apophis — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 4.0, Ismoon
• 21. Ahriman — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 22. Chernobog — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 4.0, Maxim Sukharev
• 23. Mot — file page on Wikimedia Commons — Public domain
• 24. Batara Kala — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 3.0, Tropenmuseum
• 25. Coatlicue — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 4.0, José Luiz Bernardes Ribeiro
• 26. Adro — file page on Wikimedia Commons — CC BY-SA 4.0, AKibombo