Peppertomb's Short Stories

Ageless Curse

Prompt: You are immortal, and saw the birth of the human race. Now you sit by their bedside and watch as the last human dies.

Characters: Them, It, Old Man, Captain

They've seen it all before. The man gasping for breath in their arms. His face is older, rough around the edges. Them has seen this design many times. Small hazel eyes, rounded features, and a shock of blond hair, though it has since whitened and dulled. They stroke some hair out of the man's face, and kiss his forehead. The act is most likely seen as intimate, but to Them, it's merely polite.
The man is ordinary, no more than another cog in the machine that is Earth. But he is different for one reason. He's the last cog.

They've seen it all before. They saw the evolution process, waited with baited breath to see what would come out of the water. At first they were surrounded with sneaky yet stupid apes, but once you gave them a couple million years, the fur shrunk and their muzzles grew inwards and they finally got some proper back posture. Them copied the bald apes, changing their features to blend with them. He knew his purpose was to watch, that's what It told Them to do. But Them was curious, as a proper human is, and would often sit among the tribe, or run through the forest after prey.
The apes got smarter, and quick. Before they knew it, the world around them was bustling with "humans". Houses, weapons, wheels. Children chased hoops with a stick, and the once powerful wolves had been reduced to lapdogs. 'Humans are amazing' Them thought.
Then came the wars. Currently, Them had lost track of how many they had witnessed over the centuries, but had stopped counting around the million-two-hundred mark. That was 300'000 years ago though.
The battles always ended with someone dead. Most of the time, it was someones that were dead. 'Humans are vile' Them thought.
They would take strolls through the battleground afterwards, feeling the intricate coat fabric and stitching, looking at the badges, and looking at their faces. Once or twice Them had found someone that was still breathing, shallow and slow, but breathing. Them would then pull the person gently into their lap, and rock them until they passed.
The first time this happened, Them sat in the rain, leaning over the body to keep his face dry. It felt natural to sway back and forth. Them held the man for a few minutes before they found themselves humming songs under their breath. Sweet, gentle tunes. Them found tears spilling onto their cheeks when the soldier's head finally turned more to Them's body, and their body stopped rising. Them picked him up, and, still swaying, brought them over to the largest tree they could find. It was a large oak, Them remembers, and it was completely dry underneath. Them laid the man down in the tall grass, out of the rain, and kissed their forehead.

The old man in Them's arms coughed. Blood dribbled out of his mouth, and Them wiped it with their hand. Them's eyes glazed over with tears. This had been humanity's last hope, the last cog, and it was slowly dying.
What would Them do after this? All the others were dead. They had a strong feeling that humans would be back, the tricky bastards, but Them would spend millions of years alone. Them sighed, continuing to rock humanity's last hope.
"Thank you" the old man's voice met Them's ears. Blood spewed out his mouth as he spoke, splattering against Them's cheek. "For being here, I mean"
"Shhh" Them wiped the blood away from his mouth again. "It's alright"
The old man nodded, and with one last breath, closed his eyes. There was a second of silence after Them checked his pulse, before their breath became ragged and quick. They unceremoniously dropped his body, raised their arms and screamed towards the sky. A high gutteral roar, piercing the clouds. There was nothing to kick in the dirt field they were in, except the corpse, but Them resorted to stomping in anger, flattenening the dirt and raising rocks. Them continued to scream, knowing nobody could hear. They screamed and cried and smashed the ground with their fists until their hands bled. 
Soon enough, the sky grew dark. After their voice had gone hoarse, Them wasted the time chasing animals away from the old man's corpse, and digging a grave. Them never dug graves, but they needed time wasters. They were lazy, taking their time and making unnecessary scoops at the earth. They built a fire, then threw the man's body on it. They didn't want to, but their arms were weighed and their chest felt the same. They watched his body burn to ash, then extinguished the fire, grabbed the ash, and threw it around. Some ended up in their mouth. They were off the deep-end now, and, finding their voice, began to yell again.

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Didn't know how to end this sorry