In the Hands of Fate
Author's Note: I felt a bit disappointed with how the deaths of Tessa and Richie were handled, it was much too simple and clean. So I am rewriting it, haha. In my story though, I'm going to vary the time a immortal is down after their death to how major their injury was that killed them. Let's say a simple knife wound would heal quicker then multiple gunshots to the face as the face would have to reconstruct itself. The immortal may not look the same after their awakening or may have scars from the injury, but they will be healed.
The Death of Richie Ryan
Death wasn't something Richie thought of often; actually like any mortal, he tried to avoid it whenever possible. 'Was Duncan afraid of dying?' He wondered. But as he stood nose to nose with his own grim reaper he couldn't help but wonder why in the hell did dying have to hurt so much? As blood flowed freely from the open wounds in his body, he could feel Death's cold fingers tug at his soul, trying to separate it from his body- Or rather Death clawed, tore, and tried to rip his soul from his body, but with every gasping breath Richie desperately fought to keep it. He had to keep Tessa safe, even if it was too late for him, he had to make sure Tessa would be ok, Duncan would never forgive him and he would never forgive himself if anything happen to her.
How did it get to this point? He thought the danger had passed, but somehow he was blindsided. It was hard to remember exactly what happened, the memories were hard to hold on to, and then it came to him, the memory slowly formed in his mind.
It all started with a single gunshot.
Hearing the sound of the gun firing was almost as sickening as feeling the bullets rip through his stomach and chest. His heart instantly began racing in his chest, and his stomach felt sick.
The force from the bullets knocked Richie off his feet, and as he fell to the ground, pain was all he could feel. Terror began to overwhelm his senses but it couldn't block out the searing pain from the bullets or the feeling of his blood on his hand.
The fear he felt wasn't just for his life, it was for Tessa's too, he had to get up; he had to keep her from the punk with the gun. Slowly, with unsteady legs Richie tried to stand, the blood rushed from his head and his vision faded for a second, but he pushed through. He could feel his body starting to shut down, if he was going to be of any help, he'd have to do something now.
"Tessa, run!" Richie yelled, desperately trying to fill his lungs with air.
In the back of him mind, Richie could hear someone yelling at him, warning him to stay down, but he blocked them out, his eyes were fixed on the gun that was pointed at him. Tessa needed him and he wouldn't let her down again. He would rest when he was dead.
Two more shots were fired, but they missed Richie. Gathering the last bits of his energy, he lunged toward the gunman trying to give Tessa more time to get away when the gun's last bullet was fired.
Richie's head snapped back from the force of the bullet as it entered his skull. Surprisingly, there was no more pain and no more fear. He lay where he had fallen; eyes wide open staring up at the night's sky. He couldn't think any more, couldn't feel anything except Death's cold claws ripping open his chest in search for his soul.
A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, I tend not to write really long chapters, let me know what you think!