It was so cold here in the reaches of space, in the voids of madness and loneliness. But perhaps the madness was what kept me going. Kept me strolling along the bland familiar beaches of the nether-land. I am alone.

I imagine my world as it was, vibrant and genius. Much like those to inhabit it-much like-No. There was no use paining my already agonized thoughts any longer. The world is gone, and the people gone with it.

Perhaps I am almost gone too.

The foggy blue sun set in the distance, and I crawled back towards my shelter to escape the purple misty skies and dangers of the night, carrying my blister crabs and amber grass in hand for dinner.

The trouble with this world was its creatures, as I had soon understood upon stepping on its soils. In fact when the escape-ship crashed-I was not alone. But the commotion of heavy metal scrawling a mark into the earth sent the beasts running for it, running to slay the intruders. Everyone but me was lost, whether they survived the initial attacks or succumbed to the strange lands later-a tragedy after an even greater one.

How did we ever think we could start over.

A crab began to sizzle in my palms as I carried it, and I gasped, dropping the creature which soon dug itself deep within the sand beyond my ability to retrieve. There was a reason I called them blister crabs-it was an evolutionary technique they held to avoid vicious native bacterium and predators. The ability to raise their internal temperatures past 200 degrees by sheer power of will. I usually smashed them in the heads to avoid this-but I hadn't gotten him well enough I suppose. My hand grew deep red. Welts would come soon enough-welts which might pop and expose the tissues to foreign disease. Everything about this land was savage and cruel. But it was now my home and I had no chance of living in any other world.

How I miss them all-yet how foolish it is to miss the dead I suppose.

I remember the golden days-the sunshine, the peace. Waking to a rosy dawn and falling asleep to a starry night. The atmosphere is too thick here, you only see the faded and distorted colors of the sun through the clouded skies. I haven't seen a star in 2 years. The last night on my planet.

I arrived at the threshold of my shanty, carrying my disabled game and vegetation in towards the hearth. I sat down in the sandy floor and pulled out my tools, slowly slicing the membranes of my two remaining crabs with my laser, directing it soon after to their brains with murderous precision. Triggering the heating mechanism. The crab meat cooked as it continued to heat past it's safe temperature of 250 degrees, something that happened when there was a disruption between the shell lining and nervous system's commands. I placed a strand of grass on the shells, allowing it to catch fire. I threw it over into the pit just inches away.

The good meat was removed and I ate it ravenously-enjoying the smooth taste of fish heartily. But it was a like every meal I endured, alone, and there was no chance of escape. I prayed it would be my last.

But that is selfish.

I have to carry on for them-the last of my kind. I must live and carry the torch. But was there even a point? Was there a light at the end of this dark, dismal and decaying dark tunnel?

Would they truly wish this pain upon their friend? When it would be, to almost no avail? Our race would be nevermore no matter how long I lived. There was no man to repopulate with. No world to repopulate.

I spat out a glassy shard-was it a shell? Was it-god could I be so lucky as to have forgotten to remove the toxin patch?

In my depression I had gone lazy.

The meat in my mouth turned rotten and I spat out desperately, though uselessly. I had watched others die of this-it was a cardiac targeting poison. Sure to enter my arteries soon, and shoot up with the rest of my blood into my heart. Where there was already suffering, it would be pained and shriveled. Pickling my chest in a sea of sickness within minutes.

I walked out of my make-shift home slowly, to prolong my last breathes. How bright the sky now seemed-how it seemed to brighten in its goodbye kiss to me. How it made death all the while sweeter in recognition of the fact that these skies were not in anyway my own. The final survivor to die, and turn to dust with her people. How romantic the thought was.

But the foreign blue sun was blocked by something bigger and bluer. My eyes were failing now, and I hadn't the chance to recognize it.

I felt hot blood stream from my ears-a sign my end was nearer. I thanked all the gods of all the worlds. Perhaps one of them had my people. Perhaps one of them would gain me entrance and we would all be reunited. But I was too skeptical, even in my last moments of life, to ever allow myself the beautiful belief that there was any place in heaven left for me.

Now came the heart pains, I clutched at my chest, almost for a second regretting my early death. The way I would die in my youth so terribly. But then again, I had died with the rest in all the ways that mattered long ago.

You see the problem with this poison is it did as the crabs did-burned you from the inside, raced your heart until it popped and your skin sizzled. It would be anguish. That is the way I will die. But I was still glad for it. Loneliness is the greater curse.

My lips grew dry and I felt my heart thrumming, my body cooking inside out. In my deliriousness I bumped into something-it was fabric on something soft."I-For-, I go to my people.." I gasped, "I-"

I was stumbling now-my blood reaching 107 farenheit-perhaps higher. My organs are shutting down-I'm dying.

My legs lost their strength and I collapsed.

But somewhere between the alien earth and my limp body I had been caught.

"Who-" was all the voice said before the blueness turned black.