Glorified humanity became my burning hate in the endangered times. Though my efforts seemed diligent on the outside, I sought no forgiveness to what my people have done. Thousands of years of pointless fighting, pointless reasoning, and no progress to my time ended my own care for humans. I'm glad we're done on Earth. As much as I want to forgive the people on this planet, I don't have the ability to do so-- let alone forgive myself. 

- Evan Isana 

           It must've been sometime since the streets were completely silent. Not to show that everyone was dead, rather, allow some sort of peace to exist in Aletta's Los Angeles neighborhood. As much as she longed for that peace, that wasn't going to happen. 8:30 at night, and Aletta is expecting the sound of someone in pain or dying in agony while she stays home, determining the life of Bradley Paz. He's been diagnosed with brain cancer, given only two months to live. Lucky for him, tonight has been the greatest he's ever experienced. 

Every person who loves him, friends and family alike, are all with him in a thrown party for his acceptance to medical school. Aletta's cheeks vibrate as he enjoys the final moments he never thought he'd journey to while in cancer. The silence outside has been chased away by a white car crushing slowly, perhaps waiting for someone, she thought. The party continued with Bradley looking through childhood photos, video cassettes, and a polished montage of his life up to now. It is his time to be free from the pain that delivers in him. Free from leukemic therapy, the continuous nausea and vomtting. 

But what Bradley believes to be the weight lifting off his shoulders, is seeing his friends not grieving his conditions. All he knows is pure serenity. The party is over, everyone leaves his house, and once in his life he is truly happy. Had he not fallen to this fate, Bradley would've studied in the medical field and gone to a university of his choice to one day become a doctor.

It is a rare tragedy that such a young man faces these deathly circumstances. Aletta doesn't know what to do next. Does she send him to die with a feeling of no regret, or have him face reality with his remaining suffering? Either choice could be worth noting for an emotional ending, but what moral can there be left to leave Bradley like this? None. At least that's what Aletta thinks. She's seen real people endure this before. Adjusting her glasses, she executed the conclusion. Whether readers find this cruel or understanding, Bradley will kill himself by an overdose mixture of booze and pills. 

To make sure this attempt will work, Bradley will be in his filled up bathtub, resting to his favorite tunes. The author writes while speaking aloud, "Magic health that I resign. Colored dragons in my eyes."

The pencil snaps in half on her hand. This intensity usually gets the best of an author with a story so disturbing. She searches her desk of scattered papers and objects. The authentic style of Aletta requires that she is a writer of patience, despite the rush injected in her ambition to finish the story. She's been writing this book for weeks, and only the soon to be masterpiece can earn her pay. She finds a brand new utensil, and finishes up the last words. 

"I say that to myself to feel ease when in stress. 'Magic health' is my rare condition. All this time of self inflicted misery, I can now resign. The colored dragons, well that's a whole new analogy that I best keep to myself. But I know what I'm doing. No other day will come like this. So despite the loss of a future degree, a nice house, a beautiful wife, maybe two kids, I'm okay with what is now. I used my time wisely, even when time gets me so soon. Letting life go so fast, meant I truly lived." 

Aletta's phone started ringing. Getting up to answer it, the author was officially done the moment she placed a period after that final word. Seeing through her window in the living room, the white car was parked across her street. A black truck drives slowly up to the other end. Aletta recognizes the truck. Since 7:00, th truck would drive to the street, and she knew it was the same truck given the exposed boxes that it always carried. 

"Hello?" Her calls were a fifty-fifty between business and friends. Luck was in her hand that it is a friend of hers, literally across the street of her house. 

"Did you finish it yet?" A female voice asks. 

"Yeah. On the nick of you calling. I'll be-." A roar of gunfire blazed outside the house. Aletta barely flinching puts down the phone and sees through the window. The white car and black truck were positioned horizontally at the street. Aletta counted six people in each side of the street behind the cars. The streetlights revealed very little about who these guys are, but Aletta only assumed nothing but a gang battle. The situation is non-threatening to her. She continues to speak to her friend on the phone, only a little louder. 

"I'll be handling it to my publishers tomorrow. Let's just hope no one comes questioning us about what we're hearing right now."

 She hangs up the phone as the firing of pistols and what Aletta heard a shotgun dyed out. She gets a glimpse of the white car fleeing the scene. The truck was shattered in bullet holes. Dogs from the other houses barked in madness. Police sirens and helicopters threw away the silence of the street. Aletta opens her door and sees bystanders crying loudly at the dead bodies, probably familiar people to them. Her observation was done, but snorted when spotting two dead gangers lying together at a sixty-nine position. Laughing quite loud, she closes the door behind her and lowers the lights to the living room. 

"Ah shit that was funny," she told herself. Undressing for bed, Aletta decides to write a closing statement for her soon to be released book. The radio by her dresser had been playing music by Selena when the author was writing away. With the playlist over, Aletta jots down the word of closure. 

"Our intended style of living is held from an idea of valuable existence that is supposed to contain. In Bradley's case, there is no suggestion that his life would mean anything in a long lasting  pain. There is no ideal that should make anyone want to end their own lives. I strongly inform that although this book is a work of fiction, no person should follow the guidance of Bradley's fate. Life is definitely a virtue that few of us will realize until we step into his shoes. Unless of course, you observed the possible outcomes and decided to end your own life. If so, promise you won't blame this book. Thank you." 

She takes a deep breath and winds down her bed. An entire body of literature created with only pencil is a great task for Aletta. When this goes out to stores, she'll be able to finally afford the latest computer, and create more stories in tech. Lying on her favorite side of the bed, she picked up a newspaper article she left on the side of her bed this morning. Earlier that day, she read the L.A. Times headlines, "End of Humanity". It was about the last human who was found dead earlier today at a New York apartment. The autopsy read murder, as the body was described to have multiple stab wounds. Aletta, turning on the tv, saw that media was still on about Evan Isana, the said dead human. As of now, private investigators are taking on the case, due to the nature of the victim. Slowly falling asleep, she turn off the tv and sets the alarm for morning. Aletta can only imagine how they'll crack this case. 

         "It's been some hours now. A forsenic autopsy was engaged at three o'clock. Dr. Garcia is the lucky pathologist who's digging in the last human body. We can confirm that this was from a murder, given the bruising found in his limbs came from retaliating defense. Results show Evan was stabbed multiple times from the chest and face. Right now NYPD is looking into his apartment and asking questions. As far as witnesses go-." 

Detective Dawn was filling in information to her husband Frankie. He's coaching high school students in basketball, but is also fed news about the Isana case. While on the phone, she studied the photos that they obtained from the scene. Sitting right next to her was a speaker phone that was conversing with police in Evan's apartment, in case they find something. Standing tall by the office window, Roman is on the phone with Nancy, the doctor who analyzed Evan's body. They're tracking any small details that could give investigators a lead on somebody. And far from the room, Andre is mute, watching the news about Evan Isana. He is unresponsive at the moment, quietly keeping to himself while the others look into the murder of his boyfriend. Sitting criss-cross on the sofa, he was holding photos of him and Evan. His gray sleeves have been moistured from their ends due to wiping many tears. 

Andre wore gloomy colors, a total opposite to what he usually is. He looks at the time on the tv. 12:03; it's been a full day since Evan was found dead. October 6, 2001, marked the end of the human race. 

"Dawn, what was the report on surveillance outside the building?" Roman asks. 

"They only picked up one guy, and another camera showed he was away from the scene from the time of murder. We're still eyeing for the moment". She multitasks with three conversations. Roman nodded as he continued on his end with Nancy's transcriptions. R.A.D. Investigations had their hands full with the Isana case. This is history in the making, so unfortunate in the matter of humanity however. 

"Thanks, Nancy. I'll see you in a bit." Roman hangs up the phone and seats himself next to Dawn and the photos from the scene. 

"No prints and no tracks of anyone else at the apartment. This was either a professional hit or the most perfect murder I've ever seen," she briefed Roman. He thought to himself that someone just had to be there. 

"Right. A small one bedroom that's spot on clean and one man with a messy face. It's different." The report showed that Evan's stab wounds include six stabs to his chest, two hitting his heart, and at least twenty stabs to his face. 

"Anyone come across in mind?" Dawn asks Roman. 

"A lot of names. If I had to guess, it'd be those urban myths of anti-humans. Besides, Evan is widely known from a global scale. From a popular perspective, Halls is less recognizable compared to him." He looks at the time from his watch and grabs his jacket. 

"You're gonna see Nancy already?" Dawn wonders. 

"We're meeting up for lunch. Care to come"? Dawn decides to put a hold on this. She's realized she's been in this office for too many hours, and so closes the portfolio and puts on her jacket. 

"Sure. Best keep my mind off this. Andre-?" He was asleep. Must've tired himself out from all the crying from hours ago. Dawn wished he would never wake up, but even death can make people sleep so well. 

"He'll be fine. I hope," Roman sympathizes with Andre in his sleep, covering him with a blanket before he starts shivering again. They lock the door and head out of the building. 

"We've officially done it, Dawn. We outlived humanity." As much of a lesser deal as it seemed, Dawn did see a change in the atmosphere of non human presence. Yeah right, she thought to herself. 

"How?" she questions Roman. 

"Well, we just lost the last human on Earth. Once Andre passes through his phase, I bet he'll be wanting us to get a move on with special plans." 

"Unless someone else gets to say otherwise". Dawn doubted, "I honestly don't expect much from Andre this time around. He is incomplete with Evan gone. The best we can do is find the killer and bring justice for our friend. That's all Andre wants." It seemed she was unsure of their friend's reaction. Skepticism was bound to their intentions.

"That might be something he'll have to do for himself. Sooner or later," Roman commented. As they eyed the passing people at the streets, hip-hop blasting through several cars driving by, they knew that the best investigator for the case was Andre himself. Only he could figure the methods, the people, and the sources that can connect to the one murder. They walk for some minutes until finally meeting up with Nancy. As a doctor of her own, she is also Roman's assistant in his private investigations. They've been in business since 2000, and have managed to get by. Founded by Andre, he tasked Dawn and Roman into the investigation field to help people in the city. But with Andre asleep back at the office, Dawn and Roman accompany Nancy in lunch from a burger joint. All three are seated and blend with the people near them, talking about a different but relatable subject. Nancy starts it off after getting their food. 

"You guys hear about the URC's new chairman? They say the guy will be flushing out urban areas all over the country." Dawn and Roman did hear about the news about Edward Loze, chairman of an organization that the public barely knows about. "Nancy, you know how I feel about political enterprises," Roman slurps on his drink. 

"This is the kind of work that other friends are specialized to do," Dawn adds. Nancy looks at a mirror she takes from her purse. "Well, given the nature of our situation we have now, Loze plans to step front on these plans by next year." 

"Really?" Dawn asks with her mouth full. 

"It's been behind yesterday's headlines." Nancy gives Dawn a newspaper article about the Loze plans. It was behind Evan's death story. 

"And then there were none," Roman mumbled. 

"They planned this since 2000, so my bets go that they just wanted to select the guy to make the call." Nancy seemed interested in this. Of course, it was impressive to see plans of an organization turn shacks and ghettos into high class housing. Dawn flips the pages of the newspaper. 

"Yeah, it's not my cup of tea. I'm pretty sure they'll do nothing like always. How are we on the Isana case?" Dawn asks Nancy. Didn't she say she wanted to get her mind off it? Roman asked himself. Nancy answered quickly. 

"Homicide. The police ruled it that way. One of the guys even considered suicide but we know--that isn't possible." 

Roman looked on the article about the URC as the two girls read a story about American soldiers deployed in the Middle East to combat a militia lead by a man named Malad. Roman adds on to the URC. 

"Not to sound radical, but do you guys think URC may have some ties to Evan's murder?" Dawn and Nancy had to open their ears because of Roman's whispering. The pathologist swallows down the last of her burger. 

"Conspiracy of. . ." she says.  Roman hyped the two girls. 

"Yeah. And some. But as I've said before, this is Andre's case. The best we can do is help him with anything he needs."

Nancy nodded in agreement. Seeing everyone finished with their food had her be the first to stand up. 

"I'll be with Nuvia if you want to look for me." 

"Right," Roman replies, "let's go see if Andre's awake". Dawn nods, and they head back to the office. R.A.D. Investigations is not only the office they work at, it's also where Andre lives. He has a room that connects to the office, which was specifically made this way because Andre isn't one who can afford another room (had he not spend so much money on clothing). Opening the door, they both saw that Andre wasn't asleep on the sofa. 

"Andre?" Roman calls out. No respond. 

"You think he left?" Dawn asked when checking the kitchen. 

"He's not in his room." Roman said. The portfolio, phones, and autopsy transcriptions were all gone.

"Looks like our investigator is ready to let loose," Dawn says as she spots a note on the desk. It read: Went out. Be back soon. 

"This is helpful." Dawn sounded relieved. 

"Why?" Roman scratched his head. 

"He's out of his cage. I'm still skeptic about what he plans, but I knows he's focused on it." Roman shrugs and went off home. Dawn locked the door and left as we'll, knowing in full confidence that Andre can take it from here.