Johnathon Hades sat in a lawn chair, staring out at the sunset from the porch of Shady Oaks Retirement Home, or as he called it, Shitty Oaks Prison for the Elderly. To the other old folks, or as he called them, inmates, he was known as the quiet, kind old man who rarely showed up for Bingo. To the orderlies who ran the place, he was known as that crotchety old bastard who would fall down dead any day of a stroke, but wasn't going down without a fight. No one would have guessed that this man would have once killed millions of men, women, and children without a shred of regret.

"It's time for your pill, John," came a voice behind him. He whipped around to see a young orderly with sandy blond hair, dressed in a white shirt and slacks.

"To hell with the goddam pill," said the old man.

"John," said the orderly. "You really need to take it."

"Go to hell," he replied. The orderly sniffed at the air, smeling what he thought was smoke. He looked down to see he was on fire.

"Oh my God!" he shrieked. "I'm on fire! Help! HELP!" He ran into the building, smke trailing behind him.

"John?" came a voice behind him.

Hades turned in his seat and smiled. "Grace," he said.

Grace was John's only close friend at Shitty Oaks, though he got along with almost everyone, not counting the staff. Him and Grace were close, very close. She reminded him of highly of Carol. The smile, the laugh...

"John," she said. "Come in and look at the news."

"Oh my God, Jesus, God, oh my God!" yelled Hades as he stared at the TV.

"What is it, John?" asked Grace, frightened.

"I know those symptoms!" he said horrifyed. "I know them! I'll never forget them!" He took Grace in his arms. "Grace," he said. "Leave, go far away from any other people! You must go! Something terrible beyond your imagination occuring- Grace!"

She fell to the ground, convulsing wildly. "Oh my God, Grace!" Tears streamed down Hades cheeks. He ran upstairs to his room. He fumbled in his pocket for a key, which he used to open a small drawer in his desk. From it he drew an oak handled pistol.

Soon he was back downstairs, kneeling by Grace. "Forgive me, Grace," he said, and kissed her perspiring forehead, then her lips. "I love you." The gun went off. Slowly, Hades raised the gun to his own temple. "If there is a God, let this be my repentance for all I have done," he said gravely, and pulled the trigger.

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