The Last one Standing

We did.
We were really dumb enough to kill ourselves.
We fucking managed to destroy ourselves.
Fucking great.
It wasn’t enough that those idiots couldn’t think two days ahead, and make a better world for their own descendants.
Because let’s be honest, it would be still their own families being better off, not the commoners.
They also had to goddamn wage wars because what?
Random resources?
Dude, trading was already a thing for a couple tens of thousands of years…
And pride? Really? Was this a fantasy world where if you don’t protect your pride you can’t cultivate or something?
And it’s not enough that they went ahead, and created a nuclear wasteland…
They had to…
They had to all die…and leave me here…
All alone.
Cursing out loud, I walked the streets, as copper-ashen snow fell.
I was going to the shop, as there were still plenty of things good to eat.
Why wasn’t I dead?
I don’t know.
As people started to fall like flies, after the initial fall-out…I remained healthy…
The doctors that were still around at that time tested me over and over again…
And by the time the last one succumbed to the radiation poisoning, the answer was simple.
I was one in a trillion recipient of a rare genetic mutation.
Radiation was literally just passing through me, and not affecting me at all.
And for all that good’ sake, by the time we realised that, there was nobody smart enough to use me as a lab rat to save the rest of survivors.
And now, ten years later, I am all alone.
I survived the great explosions of the various factories, and facilities.
And now, I walk the beaten new jungle, as the fauna triumphs once more.
I sighed.
After shopping, I went to a café.
There, the woman and the two men were waiting for me.
I know, I know.
I said I was all alone.
And it’s true.
There are no more humans on this planet.
“Oy, little one! You are here.”
The woman shouted.
She was War.
“Young’un, welcome, here a cold beer.”
One of the two men said kindly.
He was Death.
“You still have decades left in this barren world.
So cheer up! I have stories about a hermit who lived his life in the mountains, never meeting another human being for 6 decades!”
The last of the two men said.
He was Time.
They came two years after the last of the others died.
Ever since, I have been alone, yet in the company of the Best of the Best.
War always managed to cheer me up.
Death always took care of me, and my need (ironically, he always had a map about the cities, so I could always salvage some food, and water.)
And Time always distracted me, and taught me things.
It was weird…
I guess humanity really surprised even deities like them, and somehow made them pity me…
The Last one Standing…

Published by omnithenerva

Wannabe fiction writer. In love with mythology, and fantasy themes.

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