"Mini-chapter. The end of Hannah Holmes part 1"

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Death comes for us all in the end and Hannah Grace Elizabeth Holmes, otherwise known as Slime girl, is no exception. Death has come for her many times throughout the years and one day he will come to take her away.  The question is when he'll be taking care and what will finally finish her off-- here we will be exploring the many (possible) deaths of our main hero.
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~~~~~~Death #1; cold and alone~~~~~
Seventeen year old, Hannah Grace Elizabeth Holmes laid bleeding out in a cold, dark alley way as the sky cried down her. Hannah Holmes, seventeen  year old niece Of Sherlock Holmes, laid bleeding out alone and cold. Not Slimegirl, the adoptive daughter of Death. Hannah, not Slimegirl the protector of children and "monsters". Hannah, not the antihero Slimegirl who asked heroes, villains, and citizens how their day was. Just seventeen year old, Hannah Holmes, resident Leadership student at Stormwood High. The misunderstood social butterfly with an attitude and a huge imagination. Just a child nearing adulthood-- A child with her whole life ahead of her. A child who has so much more to do in the world.

Hannah Holmes. A daughter and granddaughter. A great niece. A niece. A sister to fifteen siblings. An aunt. A cousin. A pet owner. A friend. And here she was, bleeding out cold and alone in the rain as the sky thundered on -- drowning out her weak cries for help. She hadn't been her alter ego -- she hadn't been in her supersuit. She had just been walking home from a friend's house and had decided to take the same short cut through the alley way that she and her friends had taken a million times after hearing thunder up ahead. She had just wanted to avoid getting caught up in a  storm. She hadn't seen the guy who had been tailing her she left her friend's house enter the alleyway after she had. She hadn't even heard him -- the thunder had been too loud for her to hear him. She didn't see or hear him flip open his pocket knife-- didn't hear him run forward.  She had no warning.

The man stabbed her-- three times in the chest-- before stealing her phone, wallet, headphones, and backpack and fleeing. Leaving a weakened child to die, all alone in the freezing cold. Hannah couldn't call anyone-- the thunder was too loud and the mugger had stolen her phone. She didn't want to die but she had no choice. Hannah had never thought that she would go out like this-- Minding her own business. Outside of her supersuit. Bleeding out in alleyway at seventeen when no one would even remember her name. She didn't want to go out like this-- as a young, troubled nobody who the world would never hear of. As nothing more than a child from a family of nobodies, criminals, and the odd celebrity who wouldn't even acknowledge the rest of the family's existence. She wanted to be more that. No. She needed to be more than that. She couldn't go out like this. This just couldn't be the end. But it was the end, for this version of her at least.

The last thing she saw before the world went black was death standing over her with a solemn look on his face -- letting Hannah know that this was her end. The last thing she felt was her old friend's boney-hand grabbing hers and squeezing it in a comforting manner. She had no choice whatsoever.

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