Zombienatural

by Nyxteria

This is an SPN AU which celebrates the poetic justice of the world being destroyed by human mistakes, the story stars Jo and Dean, it is told from both POVs through a voice recorder. TRIGGER WARNING:The format in which it is being written was chosen so I could document the mental deterioration of the characters. Mental and emotional conditions will be described in their raw form

April 26th 2015 Jo POV

If anyone finds this recording, remember we were here. Know that I, Jo Harvelle, died fighting.

I'm watching Dean going over our ammo stock, about 300 yards away, we were running low. Again. I never thought I'd be sad to say ghosts and demons aren't our problem anymore. We knew something was up as soon as they all disappeared, Crowley gone, Abbedon; disappeared just like that, Cas...We don't even know anymore. The worst was what happened to Sam.

It's been hard for us impossible even. Would you believe me if I said the world's gone to shit? This bullshit tops Azazel, it tops purgatory. At least there was a possibility of pulling back out. After all that you wouldn't think that humanity's biggest travesty would be man made. As far as we know, there's a virus. Rumor has it that the government fucked up and now basically everyone is a zombie, I haven't seen anything so un human; Decomposing corpses, not even alive, just fueled by pure animalistic instincts. This was the world now, if God was lost before I doubt he's even there now. The new world has only one rule.

Don't. Get. Bit.

It's been exactly two months, three days and fourteen hours. Two months, three days, fourteen hours. Two months, three days, fourteen hours. Two months, three days, fourteen hours. Two months, three days and fourteen hours since the world went to shit and two months, two days and three hours since we've been on the move.

Two months, two days and three hours, two months, two days, three hours. Dean, Sam and I just got into the Impala and drove, scavenging for food-killing those things, all we can do is kill until we get killed. Dean was the first to figure out how to kill the walkers once and for all. A bullet to the head.

A bullet to the head. A bullet to the head. A bullet to the head.

I swear to God the only thing keeping me sane is keeping track of the time. The time. Wibbly wobbly timey wimey. Not that time is relevant anymore, hell nothing is. Last I checked we were somewhere in Atlanta, Georgia. Georgia, Georgia, Georgia. The craziest thing is that I was okay. I had Sam and Dean and you know what? We knew this was going to be our life from now on, I guess I took comfort in the fact that this is literally it, the end of the line. We knew this was going to be our last struggle.

Boy were we wrong.

Sammy's dead, Sammy's dead, Sammy's dead, Sammy's dead. Dean thinks I can't hear him, but every night, every damn night he chants the same thing.

Sammy's dead, Sammy's dead, my fault, no, Sammy's dead, please. I can't help but have the same repetitive thought.

Sammy's dead, Sammy's dead, Sammy's dead. It's all I can think about because I have to, I owe it to Dean to suffer with him, after all, I couldn't save him either.

To keep it as short as possible-Sam got bit. We watched him bleed out, then I shot him. Neither me nor Dean wanted him to turn, yet I can't get that look out of my mind. Dean looked at me with this blank, cold stare-only for a split second. But I swear to everything, if you saw his eyes you would realize that not only one person died that day.