ALABASTER REAPER | SCENARIO #3

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tl;dr: Oasis made its own version of Reaper - a bigger, faster, stronger clone. For it's relative inexperience, the bastard just regenerates too fast for his own good, causing him to be nigh unstoppable. Can your character help Cole survive?
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Buckshot tore through the night. Pellets made its mark over his upper back, but were thankfully flattened against his kevlar vest. But the sheer energy from the shotgun blast causes him to stumble forward and fall down onto the motel parking lot pavement.

He wheezes as he's winded from both the fall and pellet impact. He rasps out. There was a second shot fired into the darkness, but it hit the pavement; causing asphalt to shoot into the air. Stone fragments fly into his cheek, followed by blood that coats his face in seconds.

Cole was floored, but manages to use his prosthetic hand to raise himself up off of the ground before collapsing again. He flings himself behind the front of a nearby SUV.

His other arm is badly broken, and has become swollen. He took painkillers in an attempt to manage the pain, but even after taking them all day, they're not enough to dull the searing agony from his left shoulder.

This fight was about to draw to it's close.

Reaper was too much for him.

Instead of being clad in black, Reaper wore a white ensemble. Pristine alabaster. He was completely silent - there was no bitching or moaning, the typical sh*t you'd hear from Reaper. All that came from him was a low growl.
The ivory killer drops his sawn off shotgun for another one that simply materializes in his hands.

Cole watches this and quickly limps past the aim of Reaper's shotgun.
Without hesitation again, Reaper pulls the trigger - the shotgun blast causing the SUV's windows and windshield to shatter in one blow. The glass shards spray into the street, which causes the SUV alarm to blare. A few shards nicks the back of Cole's thigh.

Reaper emerges from around the SUV, lining up the front bead of his shotgun with Cole's back. Cassidy knew how Reaper fought - he was sadistic but efficient, preferring to blast away knees and faces when faced with body armor. He was being different.

Another blast tears across the air, catching Cole squarely across his lower back. The sudden impact makes the cowboy fall onto his side like a sack of bricks, rolling onto his side and leaving a trail of blood behind him as he slid along the ground.

Cole tried to get up on one knee, but with his broken arm it only made things worse. He was forced to crawl forward, feeling every bit of the pain in his shoulder from having fallen.

Again, Cole's vest managed to prevent the impact - but his insides were tenderized like hamburger.

Reaper walks over toward him, shotgun still trained at him, until the large man stops in front of the downed cowboy.

"You... you lost your... touch." Cole wheezes. Blood began to well from his lips and trickle into his low beard.

"Never... play with your food." He reminds Reaper of his own supposed words.

"Sh*tty last words." Reaper answers, straightening the shotgun.

"You don't remember...?" Cole asked.

Cole slowly uses his prosthetic hand in an effort to lift himself. Cole raises his forehead against the muzzle of Reaper's gun.

"Sit the f*** down, you dramatic bitch. Don't you tell me what I'm supposed to remember." The ivory assassin responds. It was true. He never recalled telling Cole anything like that.

"You're not him. Who are you?"