Someone on tumblr (who is clearly trying to kill me) anonymously sent me a prompt asking for my version of Eric's death. Since I have done the cannon version of this scene before I decided to switch things up a little. Let me know what you think if you have a moment!
Eric had never imagined himself as one of those weak people who feared death. Then again, he had also planned on leaving a long history as one of the youngest and fiercest leaders in Dauntless' history before going out on his own terms. Or, if he had to die on someone else's terms, he imagined that it would be in a hail of bullets or after an epic fight. One that left the other person beaten and bloody because it was just that close of a fight. Even being executed according to Dauntless tradition would be better than what loomed before him.
There was no glory in being strapped to a table while a bunch of cowards watched the life slowly drain out of you. That was the part of this that Eric feared, a forgettable death. Or at least that's what he tried to convince himself.
After Max was killed he had easily risen to the position of Dauntless' main leader. Well, at least the main leader over the true Dauntless, not the idiots who had tried to hide behind the Candor. He hadn't been all that concerned by the reports that the other half of the faction had rebelled and elected new leaders. Especially, when the report reached him that one of the new leaders was Four. He had started making plans to squash the rebellion and put the traitors in their place almost as soon as the news reached him. He would end this little competition they had going once and for all. He would prove that he was better than the Stiff who had only joined the faction to hide from his daddy issues.
He thought that he had hit the mother-lode when Tris turned herself in, arriving on his doorstep like a gift wrapped shiny new gun to use to kill his nemesis. Then the idiot had turned himself in too, it was all just too good to be true.
He had wanted to kill him as soon as he stepped through the lobby doors, but Jeanine had been rather insistent that this was an opportunity to gather useful information. She had gone on and on about his brain being interesting since he only displayed his Divergence some of the time, so Eric had bided his time.
It hadn't been a complete loss, Eric had been able to torture the numerically named Dauntless for information on the locations of Factionless safe houses where Divergents were being protected. He hadn't gotten much out of him, which was about as much as he had expected to get, but it was so satisfying.
When the two Stiffs escaped, he was fairly pissed off that he hadn't killed him while he had him cornered, but hadn't doubted for a moment that he could still get them. His plan to retrieve them and launch another divergent raid was coming together nicely, and he could see his win on the horizon.
As it turns out, though, he had underestimated Four's resourcefulness and when they attacked Erudite with the combined force of the disloyal half of Dauntless and the unified factionless, his soldiers hadn't been able to hold Erudite. With Erudite HQ he lost his hold on the city.
Jeanine hadn't survived the battle, so he had unwittingly become the face Evelyn's quest to 'fix' the city. She had used his supposed crimes against the Abnegation and the Divergent, and the promise of his punishment, to curry favor with the people.
That had led him here to this tiny, suffocatingly sterile cell with nothing to fill his days except his thoughts. His head was a dark and scary place, being stuck alone with only his imagination and the memories he had fought to numb himself to was beginning to make him crave death.
He was laying on is cot, hands tucked behind his head while he counted the number of ceiling tiles for what must have been the millionth time, when he heard the sound of keys jangling just outside of the door. He took a deep breath and waited for the familiar sound of the heavy door rubbing against the floor as it was pushed open.
"It's about time," He chided without looking away from the tiles, "I'm dying of boredom in here."
The guard let out a malicious chuckle, "Well, you've got part of that right. On your feet, hands on the wall."
Eric shrugged, "I don't really feel like it, but if you need me to stand I'm sure you can figure it out."
The guard sighs and moves to the foot of the bad, flipping it over and sending Eric onto the floor. Eric didn't have a chance to react before the guard pulled out a taser and pulled the trigger. The metal prongs anchoring into his side as electricity shoots through him.
He bites his lip to keep from giving the bastard the satisfaction of hearing him make the pained groan his body wants to. He forces himself to smirk and look back at the younger man, "That the best you got? No wonder I cut you during the first phase of training last year. You're pathetic."
The guard – James? John? Jeremy? Something with a J, Eric never cared enough to bother with memorizing the weak one's names. – snaps, his eyes full of fiery hatred. He springs forward and punches the former leader in the face.
Eric rolls out of the way, but the taser has slowed his reaction time and he still gets nailed in the side of the head. He gets in a few good hits, between punches to his face, before another couple of guards finally break them apart.
One of the new guards, a huge man with tree trunks for arms, stands over him for a moment before kicking him in the ribs with the steel toe of his old, ratty boots. "Get up!" He orders before leaning down and roughly dragging Eric to his feet before slamming him into the closest wall.
By this point, Eric can feel warm liquid running out of his lip and a gash on his forehead. He is beginning to feel light headed as the beast of a man yanks his arms behind his back and cuffs them. He drags Eric out the door and through a series of empty halls that Eric has wound his way through more times than he can count. He used to feel powerful when he walked these halls to lead prisoners to or from their cells, but now he just feels empty. He's lost his home, his faction, his place in society and his title. He's nothing now, and that is scarier than death.
They go up a few floors in the elevator and when the doors open the last hall is lined with people. With Evelyn's new rules against faction clothing, he has no idea who most of these people were, but he can tell that they're angry. As he is dragged through the hall, he is spat at and booed. Somewhere in the middle of the crowd someone starts throwing things. He gets hit in the head by an egg, it smashes and he can feel the sickeningly sticky inside running down the right side of his head and into his shirt.
He doesn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him get angry, he stares straight ahead and keeps moving.
"Murderer!" Someone screams from behind him.
A woman up ahead with black and green hair, tattoos covering her neck and arms, steps out of the group. When they reach her she smirks the crowd before punching him in the face. "Traitor," she spits at him.
The guard pushes her out of the way and continues to the door at the end of the hall. Once inside the room everything is much calmer, although he can still hear the crowd's muffled cries through the door.
Evelyn approaches him slowly, her eyes glistening with excitement, like a wild animal about to take the first bite of its kill. "You like you're having a rough day," She says in lieu of a greeting.
"Really? I thought that went pretty well," He spits back sarcastically. He glances around the room, first at the medical equipment that will monitor his vitals as his life ends and then at the people. There are a few factionless spread out around the perimeter, guns at the ready in case he tries anything, and a few people in lab coats who look rather uncomfortable. More than likely they are former Erudite who have no choice about assisting their new overlord.
"Where's Four, I figured he's want to be here to rub it in my face," He asks boredly as he's led to the dentist's chair in the center of the room. A flash of emotion crosses the older woman's face. Sadness? Regret?
After a moment it clicks in Eric's mind. He saw the video, albeit while he was being subdued by guards, but he got the gist. "He left? Went out there to explore the world? Even your own son hated you and your reign of terror so much that he ran away!"
He gets slapped almost as soon as the word 'away' leaves his mouth, the sting radiating through the side of his face. Evelyn wipes the blood from her hand onto her pant leg; he must have more blood on his face than he thought.
"Shut up," She growls, leaning closer and glaring at him with a look of pure hatred burning in her eyes. "You are a little man who feels small if he doesn't make other people around him suffer. A man who has never had an original thought in his head, who has spent his entire life bowing to the will of a woman who would have shot you in the face in the name of science if it came to it. I am going to enjoy watching you die," She adds with a hysterical little laugh.
Eric laughs right back, forcing the best smirk he can, "And you are a coward. You ran away, and left a child you claim to care about to take the beatings from the monster you married. I hate your son, just slightly more than I hate you, and I have done some things that other people find horrific, but even I can see just how messed up that is. I can live with the blood and pain I've caused, but can you live with the pain you let your helpless child endure? Can you live with yourself after all you've done?"
She doesn't answer, she just looks up at his guard, who slams him into the chair and straps his arms and legs down. A timid scientist approaches and applies the heart monitor leads, poking a couple of buttons to start the machine up. He nods to Evelyn when the device begins to beep.
Evelyn approaches him again, a smirk mixing with the fury in her eyes, "What's wrong, Eric? Your hearts beating a bit fast. You aren't scared, are you?"
He smirks back and forces himself to keep breathing. He glances around the room again, but he doesn't recognize a single face; for some reason that stings. He meant so little to people now that no one even hated him enough to want to watch him die.
Another scientist approaches and with a nod from Evelyn, he jabs the needle into Eric's neck. He backs away and Eric can feel the side of his neck begin to burn, the sensation slowly beginning to spread through his body. His vision starts to cloud and his chest tightens.
The last thing he sees before his vision clouds completely is Evelyn. She's smiling now, the anger in her eyes mixed with a twisted look of glee. "Be brave, Eric," She spits out sarcastically. Everything starts to fade away, the burning is slowly replaced with numbness.
And for the first time he can remember, Eric is not afraid.