Chapter Text
“What do you mean I died? I am fucking 23 years old with a hex debt to pay off and a cat called Smokey to look after. I can’t be dead.” The words spilled out in a rush, disbelief and anger clear in the young woman’s voice.
Her chocolate eyes harden as she glared at the Grim Reaper standing before her. He was a peculiar figure, tall and lanky with a scythe that gleamed in the dim light. His hoodie was drawn low over his face, and his skin was paler than the moon at midnight.
"Look, I don't have time for this," she snapped, her voice echoing through the vast, empty space that surrounded them. "You've got the wrong person. I've got responsibilities. I can't just... leave."
The Grim Reaper, unfazed by her outburst, tapped a long, bony finger against his gleaming scythe. "Young lady, I've been at this job for eons. There's no error here.”
“How boring it must be doing the same job forever. I bet you don’t get vacation days.” She scrunched up her nose at the thought.
The Grim Reaper’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I am the bringer of eternal rest, not a travel agent. However, I am intrigued by your spirit. Perhaps there’s more to you than meets the eye. Tell me, what is it that you can offer me that’s worth granting you another chance at life?”
The young woman’s mind raced.
What could she possibly offer to the embodiment of death?
Then it struck her. “I can make your job more... entertaining. I’ll live in a world where the end is inevitable, a world of your choosing, and I’ll experience everything it has to offer. In return, you let me keep Smokey and promise to give me a decent death when my time truly comes in that life.”
The Grim Reaper’s eyes lit up with an eerie glow. “Ah, a proposal with a bit of zest. I like it. But you must understand, this world will be fraught with peril and despair. It’s a place where darkness prevails, and hope is but a flickering flame in the abyss. Are you willing to endure such a fate?”
Her heart pounded in her chest, but she nodded firmly. “If it means I get to live and keep Smokey, then yes. I’ll do it. Just don’t make it too... grim, okay?”
“No promises. Jana Watson.”
With a chilling chuckle, the Grim Reaper reached out a hand as cold as the void itself. The young woman took it with a shiver, feeling the unyielding grip of fate as he sealed the deal with a shake.
The world around them grew darker.
~***~
Jana woke with a gasp, the cold grip vanishing. She bolted upright, heart racing, to find herself in a room that was eerily familiar.
Her eyes darted around, taking in the surroundings. The furniture was the same, the posters on the wall, the threadbare carpet under her feet—everything.
The digital clock on her nightstand blinked the date: March 10, 2010.
Panic set in.
She died in 2025.
What sorcery was this?
Smokey, her blue Russian cat, meowed at her from the end of the bed. She looked at him, and he seemed to have not aged a day. But she had. She was supposed to be a teenager, not a 23-year-old with a life's worth of experiences. She bolted out of bed and sprinted to the mirror hanging on the wall. The reflection staring back at her was the same as before she had died.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she inspected every line and curve of her face. The same piercings, the same tattoos, the same everything.
But it was impossible.
It was supposed to be.
But so was coming back to life, apparently.
Smokey jumped onto her shoulders, his tail swishing as he rubbed his cheek against her. His eyes, a deep, piercing blue, seemed to look right through her.
Did he remember?
Did he know she had made a deal with the reaper?
Her hand trembled as she reached up to stroke his fur. It was softer than she remembered.
"What the hell have I done?" she whispered to the feline, who only responded with a comforting purr.
The house was eerily quiet, frozen in time. Jana knew she had to get a grip on reality—or the new reality she had apparently stepped into. She took a deep breath and started to get dressed, her mind racing with questions.
"Okay, so I'm back in 2010," she murmured to herself. "What now?"
Her thoughts swirled as she pulled on a pair of worn jeans and a band t-shirt. This was supposed to be a fresh start, but it felt more like a time loop with a twist of the macabre. The deal she had made with the Grim Reaper played on repeat in her mind, each word echoing like a funeral bell.
“A world of his choosing, fraught with peril and despair...what have I signed up for?” she wondered aloud, her voice shaking slightly.
Smokey meowed in response, his eyes unblinking as they bore into hers. For a moment, Jana felt a chill run down her spine, as if he understood her plight.
Or was she just reading into his feline gaze?
“Meow indeed, Smokey,” she said with a shaky laugh, tying her laces with trembling hands.
“This time I’ve really done it. But we’re in this together, right?”
The cat leaped off her shoulders and trotted over to the door, his tail held high. He sat down and stared at her, as if waiting for her to follow. Jana took this as a sign to get going. She needed to find out exactly what kind of world she had signed herself into.
Was it an apocalypse?
A dystopia?
Or something entirely different?
When she opened the front door of her house, she was greeted by a scene that was both comfortingly familiar and eerily mundane. The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and the neighbor’s sprinkler system was going full blast, watering the lawn with a rhythmic sigh. The quiet suburban street looked like it had been plucked straight out of a time capsule from her past.
Her heart racing, she stepped outside and looked around. Nothing was out of place. No signs of destruction, no roving bands of survivors.
Just... normalcy.
It was unsettling.
Jana walked back into the house, closing the door behind her with a soft click. She made her way to the kitchen, her stomach rumbling despite the heavy weight of uncertainty in her chest. Smokey padded along at her heels, his purring a comforting white noise in the silence.
The kitchen looked exactly as she remembered it, down to the faded yellow wallpaper and the chipped countertops. She opened the fridge, the light flickering to life, revealing shelves filled with food that should have spoiled years ago. A carton of milk sat on the top shelf, the date showing it was good until the end of the month.
This couldn’t be right.
She grabbed it, the coldness seeping through the cardboard as she sniffed it tentatively.
It smelled... fresh.
Jana set the milk down and opened a can of tuna for Smokey, her hand shaking as she scooped it into his bowl. He began to eat greedily, oblivious to the turmoil raging in her mind. She took a deep breath and rummaged through the cabinets, finding a box of cereal that she hadn’t had since high school.
She poured a bowl for herself, the sound of the cereal hitting the ceramic a nostalgic symphony of her past. She sat at the table, her legs bouncing as she tried to digest the impossibility of the situation.
"Okay, Jana," she whispered to herself, "you're fifteen years in the past in a world that's probably not your original one, and definitely going to end in fire and death because everything ends in fire and death." Her voice echoed in the emptiness, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen that she had once filled with laughter and the smell of burnt toast.
Smokey finished his breakfast and leaped onto the windowsill, his tail twitching as he stared out at the seemingly peaceful world beyond. Jana took a deep breath and forced herself to eat, trying to calm her racing thoughts.
Her eyes wandered over to where Smokey was looking, she could see her neighbours?
These people weren’t her neighbours.
No, they weren’t Mister and Mrs Coulson.
But she knew them.
How couldn’t she, she had watched ten years of their lives.
Jana felt the blood drain from her face as she stared out the window. She recognized the sheriff’s hat and the way he walked.
It was like seeing a celebrity in the flesh, except this wasn’t some actor strutting around—it was the actual Rick Grimes from The Walking Dead. She had to be hallucinating.
Or maybe this was some kind of twisted fanfic purgatory.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she watched him get into the police cruiser parked outside. This was definitely not her quiet suburban street in 2010. Or at least, not the one she remembered.
The car looked exactly like the one from the show, and she could almost hear the theme song playing in the back of her mind.
"Smokey, do you see this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
But the cat was too busy cleaning his paw to pay her any attention.
Her thoughts raced as she finished her cereal, her spoon clattering against the bowl. The zombie apocalypse was not something she had ever prepared for.
Sure, she had binge-watched the show, read the comics, and even played the video games, but experiencing it firsthand was a whole other level of reality.
Jana's eyes darted around the kitchen, trying to come up with a plan. She had to gather supplies, find a safe place to hole up, and somehow keep her cat safe.
The house she was in was a start, but she knew a house wasn’t ideal to be held up in during an apocalypse.
A prison would be ideal, maybe a private school hell, an island would be nice, but it would require people to run it.
"Okay, let's think," she murmured to herself, trying to keep the panic at bay. ”We have time, not a lot but we have time.”
Jana rushed to her room, her mind racing with the skills she would need to survive. Hunting and tracking were essential in the world of the undead. She booted up her ancient laptop, the one she had buried in her closet. The Wi-Fi still worked, and she quickly navigated to Craigslist.
With trembling fingers, she typed out an ad: "Seeking Experienced Hunter for Lessons. Willing to Pay Top Dollar."
She knew it was risky, but desperation made her bold. She had to learn quickly, and she had the resources—for now. Her bank account held the life insurance payout from her original timeline, which she had squirreled away for a rainy day. Little did she know it would be used to save her life in a world of the walking dead.
After posting the ad, she rummaged through her closet, her mind racing. Her eyes fell on a dusty, worn-out map of the United States. The idea struck her like a bolt of lightning. If she was going to survive, she needed a plan and a place to call home base. A van would be perfect for mobility and storage. She could live in it, travel from place to place, and avoid the hordes of walkers that would inevitably come.
Her hands trembled as she pulled out the map, spreading it across her bed. She had watched enough episodes of The Walking Dead to know that urban areas were a no-go. Too many people, too many potential walkers. She needed a rural area, somewhere with plenty of resources but not too populated.
Her eyes scanned the map, searching for the perfect spot. Smokey jumped onto the bed, his paws patting the map as if he was helping her make a decision.
"Alright, buddy, let's find us a place to call home," she whispered, stroking his head.
Her eyes fell upon a small town not too far from her current location. It had a prison. It was the prison the TWD group had originally cleared out. Jana had watched enough episodes of "The Walking Dead" to know that prisons could serve as fortresses.
Sure, it was a risky plan, but if she could clear it out, maybe kill those douches that survived, it would be a safe haven. And if she managed to pull it off, the Grim Reaper might just find it entertaining enough to let her keep her life—and Smokey.
With renewed determination, she shut the laptop and turned to her cat. "We're going shopping, Smokey," she announced, trying to keep her voice steady. "We need to stock up.."
Her thoughts were shattered by the sound of her doorbell ringing.
Jana's heart leaped into her throat.
Who could it be?