The Last Human
The old photos made her conscious of her age, of how much time had passed – and of what an interesting life she’d had. Little slices of memory appeared and disappeared in her mind, feelings resurfaced from old wounds and lost loves. She had endured damage beyond belief, and she would never ask for anything different.
The borders of the photo disappeared and before she could stop herself, she was there again, in ancient Rome. The noise filled her ears; people shouting, laughing, selling, the smell came next; a sickening dirt that reminded her of home, of nature. It was the first photo she had ever taken. By then, she thought she mastered the world and knew everything, that she alone bore the world and protected it. All it took was one man, one cynical, loving, brilliant man with a machine that could quake the stars themselves.
Water splashed onto the photo in her hand. She wiped at her eyes with surprise not realizing she had been crying. This feeling confused her. The two of them had been through so much: Had fought from one eon to the next; were bitter rivals and conquerors of each other’s dreams, and yet the strangest feeling was that she missed him. They had not seen each other in longer than she could remember, and yet his face burned into her mind like the first time she burned herself in the unnamed wastes of early Earth. Evelyn looked at her hand, at the scar that the fire had left. It was one of three, the second given to her by her enemy, the third by her star-crossed lover.
Evelyn put the photos down and looked up to the blackened, starless sky. So much time had passed, and now she outlived the stars themselves. She was the last living soul and all she could feel was regret and loneliness. She had owned her life, conquered her demons, and still he clung to her like wet clothing. She hated him for longer than she loved him and avoided him for even longer than that, and yet she missed him. She wished he were here, but he couldn’t. She saw him die long ago and there was no way out of that for him. his only escape would have been in the past, and she had seen his journals and notebooks. He kept meticulous notes of his field tests, never admitting they were adventures. None of which mentioned the end of time, with her. She had seen them. First stolen, then given, then lost. But he had a certain mysticism to him. He would always show up when she needed him, or when she absolutely didn’t. The end of time seemed an obvious place for him to visit, so where was he?
Evelyn raised her last match, the last match in existence and flicked it against her boot. The photographs of history lay in a heap below her, all she had to do was lower the match and history would be expunged. No one was left to remember what had happened, no one except her.
The match fell onto the flammable chemical she had spray onto the photos and took flight, setting history ablaze. Evelyn kept her eyes on it, knowing she owed the universe at least that. No one deserves to die alone, something Elijah would always tell her.
Evelyn walked for a time after that. She had no destination; there was no where left to go. The end would come soon, though she wondered what it’d feel like. She had made a point to experience everything she could in her life, for better or worse, so death naturally would be the last. She didn’t know why, but it made her sad. She would die alone. A fact she had come to accept. It was the penance an immortal must pay.
Her legs grew tired, and it felt like there was no point to continue. Eve lay onto the ground and began to count the stars blinking out, remembering when she would lay with Elijah and count the brightest ones, arguing about which was brighter or not. She never thought she would feel this alone, and she couldn’t sop the tears, sickening her. She had never been this person, but he had made her this way and she hated him for it.
After a time, she closed her eyes and dreamed of the happiest days. Exploring the cosmos, knowing no end was in sight. Eternity had passed in the blink of an eye, and now it was over.
In her mind, she imagined his presence there, holding her hand through to the end. This was her reality now, the only thing her brain could do to cope. She had lived the fullest of lives, a trillion lifetimes crammed into one. And now it was finally time to let go.