He was an invincible titan, looking down upon those who wished for do-overs, for second chances. He was sure he wouldn't change a single life decision, not in a hundred years, not in a thousand.
Death wouldn’t be able to weaken him with regret and sentiment. No, he was a formidable adversary, and he'd beat Death just like he had beaten everyone else who crossed him.
Lying in his sterile hospital bed on a bleak evening, he dared nearing Death to take its best shot, to even attempt to separate him from his life force.
He rallied his strength for the assault, but his body, once powerful, refused to obey. Confused, he couldn't even keep his eyes open, let alone face his end with the defiance he imagined.
As he drew his final breaths, a sense of panic set in. "No, no, no," he thought desperately, "Not like this… not without a fight." And then, he was gone.