The last woman on Earth stood over the body of the last man on Earth. She dropped the bloody pipe next to him.
A coarse wind ripped through her hair, rattled her torn blouse. It carried newspaper rags and khaki dust. It would carry along his corpse-scent, bringing hungry animals. She wandered away, having no intent to interfere.
On a ruined pillar of cement with rusted steel rods angling out like stiffened worms, sat a watchful spirit, translucent, with the dust blowing through it. It regarded the scene of mankind's last murder with pure curiosity.
"Why did you do that?"
"Why wouldn't I?" she replied.
"You two could have repopulated."
"I didn't like him."
"But what about humankind? Now you'll go extinct."
The woman laughed, spreading out her arms. "This is my fault?" She indicated the old, leveled city around them. "Don't place the onus of all this on me. We have been extinct for a long time already."
"Two still remained."
"He was willing."
"He didn't give a shit about humanity! He just wanted his pleasure, and if by 'willing' you mean 'forceful' then yes. I did what I had to, to defend myself."
"But now you'll die and no one will come after." The spirit pursed its lips in puzzled consternation. It held the look of someone whose plans had gone awry.
"What good is a species that lives like that? Why would I want to raise humanity with that as their origin?"
"I really thought you would."
"Nothing, not even an imaginary new world, is worth my - or any other's - subjugation. I'm sorry you had to learn that the hard way."
"What will you do now?"
"Live. Die." She began to walk off. "Nothing important."