Rush in

You feel a swelling of rage as you witness these strangers violate your woman. Your grab the wrench, throw the door open, let out a bellow so loud that the entire neighborhood could probably hear you, and charge into the fray.

Unfortunately these guys are faster than you and you have given up all element of surprise. You make it two steps before the one on the left has drawn his gun and shot you on your left side just below the ribs. Your adrenaline keeps you going the remaining distance and you tackle the gunman to off of Lea. The distraction is enough for her to free her hand, grab a knife and slit the other man's throat.

As you struggle with the gunman you feel yourself getting weaker. While he manages to pull the trigger several times, you only recieve a ricocheted bullet in the leg. Eventually he overpowers, and straddles you. You both pause as the the gun is now pointed at your head. You notice his wild eyes, unkept beard, and sadistic grin. When he pulls the trigger a final time, you flinch, but no new pain comes to light, just a slight clicking sound. You open your eyes to see Lea end his life with a blade to the heart. The body falls on top of you and you rest a minute before pushing him off.

You work yourself into a sitting position against the alley wall, and Lea sits opposite you. Both of you are breathing heavy.

After a couple minutes you feel your toes and fingers getting cold, and a chance look down shows that you are losing blood very quickly from your stomach, and that there wasn't much that could be done, since you know that the bullet went all the way through.

A glance at Lea showed she realized this too. Where you expected her face to show contempt, or maybe a bit of rage, you saw sadness and a bit of pain. You could see a stab wound on her left shoulder, similar to where yours was, and a flesh wound from one of the guns on her right hip. She was going to be fine. You flash her a cocky grin.

"See? There was a reason you brought the testosterone-filled jerk home." You laugh at your own bad joke, and any sympathy that was on her face vanishes. The blood continues to drain and you lose feeling below your knees. "Hey, one twelve-hour-ally to another, can I ask you a favor? Or maybe two?" You cough a little blood into your hand. "The first is that if I somehow got her pregnant, don't name the kid Alex. Obviously the name is cursed," You put a hand on your open stomach, that wound is the only part of your body that is really warm anymore. Lea nods in agreement, and you spit some blood from your mouth. "The second is that I’d rather not bleed out this slowly if you catch my drift.” She nods solemnly in recognition of what you are, and what you had done to and for the group.

She struggles to her feet, knife clutched in her hand. You notice that she isn't looking at you now, but that's not going to be your problem for much longer. She stands a foot in front of you, places the blade on your neck. You gratefully thank her, and then she precisely and cleanly slits your throat.

Your story is at an end.