[ WP ] A man with immortality slowly realizes that it is a curse , not a blessing .

The woman in the bar laughed, biting a nail as she leaned in closer to him. Jonah said all the right things, in all the right ways. Seduction was a game, and he ’ d been playing for a very long time. 
 
 “ How old would you say I am? ” he asked. 
 
 “ Oh, I dunno... Twenty... seven? ” 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 Back at his house, the woman rode Jonah with wild passion, her lithe, athletic body slick with sweat. He looked up at her, and yawned. She slapped him and left. *What was her name? * he thought, as the front door slammed. 
 
 In a library, somewhere in what had once been America, he was reading. Frustrated, he put the book away after immediately realising he ’ d read it before. He looked over and saw a young student reading one of the books he ’ d written, under a different name. It had won various awards and accolades back then. 
 
 It was night. A city, somewhere. It was raining. He was in a fight. *There was a man in Laos, * he thought, as he dodged a meaty fist, *said I was cursed*. He found it strange that he should remember that, when all else had mixed together, like so much fruit in a blender. The assailant hit him across the face, a poor punch. Jonah felt a faint sting of annoyance. The man shouted something and came at him again. Jonah dodged and broke his jaw, and decided to leave him with a little internal haemorrhaging as well. He chose not to kill him. 
 
 A girl laughed and ran with him towards a rushing river, racing past trees and over rocks. She ’ d never felt so alive, she said. Then she was dead. 
 
 A war broke out. It was the third he ’ d fought in... no, the fourth. He killed men then. He often became a hero in one country, and a villain in another. Sometimes he was worshipped as a God, sometimes a celebrity. Whenever his fame would become too great, he ’ d change his face and name, and leave. 
 
 He was Anton now, and a building had collapsed. An earthquake. It had always been his greatest fear, and he knew it would happen one day. He screamed until his voice was spent, and then there was only the darkness and the silence. He reflected on his life; the women he ’ d been with, the destruction he ’ d seen, the rise and the fall of nations, and of men. The patterns, all the same. People, life, it all repeated itself. Nothing was new, nothing exciting, nothing, nothing. There was nothing. Anton thought of the man from Laos again and understood now, more than ever, how truly cursed he was. 
 
 A hundred years later, excavators pulled a madman from an old ruin. No one understood how it was possible. 
 
 A lunatic shambled through the desert of the old world. The war to end all wars had ravaged the earth and left only stragglers. The survivors knew to avoid him, knew the stories of the dead-eyed immortal wraith, who killed all he came across. 
 
 Silence again. The world was dead. Nothing lived. Only the madman. Staring at the stars. 
 
 The sun was massive in the sky, and would have burnt away his flesh if such a thing could happen. He did not even go blind. Only stood, hunched like some ancient vulture, as his world was filled with terrible light. 
 
 Darkness. Only darkness, but for the stars all about him. No stars within him, though, no light and no hope. Only darkness. Only dark and wretched and eternal life.
