A.M.S.L

My name is Merus Superstes, and it is the year 2232, by my closest approximation; I’ve not seen another person in four years. That last person I saw died in my arms under the influence of a fast infecting, very contagious, and very lethal disease. The entire population of the earth was wiped clean by this disease and only I survived the plague due to an unusual factor that I had in my possession either through a freak mutation in my genetics or that I acquired at sometime in my life, be it accidental or for purpose. The place I now stand used to be quite active with various kinds of people. While traveling down the empty corridors of shopping malls, restaurants, houses and trekking through vast acres of overgrowth that used to take the shape of parks and front yards, streets and cities, you sometimes wonder if you see a person standing in the shadows, or climbing through the trees. It may seem like people are still walking around breathing and learning and socializing, but the mute truth that I face every single day is this: That I am alone. Completely and utterly alone. Alone in a world that has forgotten the caresses of civilization and now embraces the wild and chaotic forces of nature.

 There are no humans, there is only the whispering of wild beasts sneaking around, waiting for their chance to strike. The beasts cannot strike at me however, for I am the last living man, and I will not falter so easily in the face of death, I will not fall victim to despair for I must be strong in the face of annihilation. I am a learned scholar in this world of violence and strength, calm and weakness. I have learned the weaknesses of all humans before my time, and through my time, and also the weaknesses of that which I face. What I face every day that has turned me into a hardened, unemotional shell of what I once was you may learn, for soon the answer to that question will come to you. There is no longer need of modesty, style, gentleness, hygiene, or emotion, there is only the constant drive to survive in a world that is in constant change from constant battles. The terrain is forever unknown to me, as well as the time. The reason being that both change, and change constantly. Why people used to dwell on those particular matters I still do not understand though I admit I used to be slave to these factors too. “I am going be late for school” I used to say or I would get chills walking down a street I wasn’t particularly used to traversing. Do I quit because of the meager encumbrances of time and place or of the confusion that wraps itself around me at all times, threatening never to surrender its grasp upon my conscience? Do I break down in the face of my never-ending suffering from inner thought, speculation and struggle to survive in such a forgotten world? No, I do not. I press on and fight all obstacles that get in my way.

Every single animal brave enough to try and overcome my superior mental and physical strength and strategy has only met an unfortunate but appreciated demise as it is slaughtered and used for warmth or food or both. I am the only surviving man left (as far as I know) and the world is my enemy. So hard I think every moment about surviving and minor distractions that I imagine myself being a great machine traveling the world and slaying things with sheer willpower and cunning.  I ask of you, what would you do in my situation, your family killed by an invisible and silent enemy. Every person you’ve taken a liking to or desire for killed and left to rot. What methods would you employ to survive?