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tartaros_avatar[[This is my brief interpretation of the demise of Stefan Richter in the Praetorian Earth continuity. We've never been told the specifics, but from what we know, it may have gone something like this. For more on the character, see his Info and Permissions post. CW: gun violence, death.]]
With his newly-expanded senses, it was impossible to miss the sound of Marcus drawing a gun.
And it was impossible to believe that it was meant for him.
The bullet was a stabbing pain straight through the heart, yet he stayed standing. He half-turned, and another missed his head by inches.
He got ahold of Marcus' wrist, too late. Another shot, and another. They kept coming, until he was too weak to hold on.
He slumped back against the black stone box. The golden glow inside it pressed against his shoulders, hotter than his own blood.
Dimly, he could hear the storm above the cave, and nothing else. The rest of the gang hadn't heard the shots. There'd been deadly traps they'd had to get past to make it this far. Unless he survived, they'd never know how Marcus betrayed them all. Betrayed him.
"You heard the sisters," Marcus stood over him, completely unapologetic. Reloading. "Someone has to die for this to work." Marcus couldn't have believed that prophetic nonsense. This was just an excuse for what he must have wanted to do all along.
"You're insane," Stefan tried to pull himself up, "You selfish—" he was kicked back down, pain stabbing into all the wounds at once. He coughed, spat blood on Marcus's boots. "I kept you alive. I gave everything for you."
"I know." Marcus "And you never wanted to be in my shadow either. Now you won't have to be. Goodbye, Stefan."
The final bullet didn't quite kill him, not immediately. In the muddled, painless haze that followed, he saw the golden light grow brighter.
With his newly-expanded senses, it was impossible to miss the sound of Marcus drawing a gun.
And it was impossible to believe that it was meant for him.
The bullet was a stabbing pain straight through the heart, yet he stayed standing. He half-turned, and another missed his head by inches.
He got ahold of Marcus' wrist, too late. Another shot, and another. They kept coming, until he was too weak to hold on.
He slumped back against the black stone box. The golden glow inside it pressed against his shoulders, hotter than his own blood.
Dimly, he could hear the storm above the cave, and nothing else. The rest of the gang hadn't heard the shots. There'd been deadly traps they'd had to get past to make it this far. Unless he survived, they'd never know how Marcus betrayed them all. Betrayed him.
"You heard the sisters," Marcus stood over him, completely unapologetic. Reloading. "Someone has to die for this to work." Marcus couldn't have believed that prophetic nonsense. This was just an excuse for what he must have wanted to do all along.
"You're insane," Stefan tried to pull himself up, "You selfish—" he was kicked back down, pain stabbing into all the wounds at once. He coughed, spat blood on Marcus's boots. "I kept you alive. I gave everything for you."
"I know." Marcus "And you never wanted to be in my shadow either. Now you won't have to be. Goodbye, Stefan."
The final bullet didn't quite kill him, not immediately. In the muddled, painless haze that followed, he saw the golden light grow brighter.