Winchesters in Riverdale (Part Two)

After a hunt gone wrong, Y/N Winchester, the 17 year old half-sister of Sam and Dean Winchester, her older brothers, and Castiel are transported to Riverdale, a town in a different universe. While Sam, Dean, and Castiel attempt to find a way back home, Y/N struggles to fit in in community of Riverdale. In a universe with no monsters to worry about, there’s so many questions that need answering.

Can she ever try to be normal after hunting for all of her life? Who’s the good-looking, mystical teen with the beanie who’s always at that diner? And will anyone discover that secret she’s been hiding for the last year and a half?


Part One


“What do you mean I have to go to school?” you asked in disbelief as Dean dumped a bunch of school supplies on your motel bed along with a black backpack.

He sighed and sat down in the long chair across the room.

“People’ll get suspicious if there’s a random teen hanging around us during school hours. So unless you wanna be holed up in the motel for God knows how long, you’re going to school.”

You were about to protest when Sam cut you off.

“It’s just for a little bit, Y/N,” he said in an attempt to placate you. “Until we find a way to get outta here.”

You sighed defeatedly.

“Fine.” you said quietly as you sat back against the headboard of the bed, crossing your arms.

Everyone was silent for a moment before Dean spoke again.

“Oh, and you’re with the sophomores. All the junior classes were full.” he said.

Your mouth dropped open.

“Are you serious?!” you exclaimed.

“We signed you up for a mythology class though! You like mythology. That class has kids from all different grades in it.” Sam said.

You glared at him.

“Fine. Just—fine. Whatever.” you mumbled.

Dean rose his eyebrows at your tone.

“You know, I don’t know what’s going on with you. You’ve had a lot more chutzpah since you came back.”

“Dean.” Sam warned.

You looked down. You didn’t want to talk about this now.

“No, I’m serious, Sam,” Dean continued. “She disappears without a trace and then magically returns after a year. Now, she says it was because she had to take a break after Kevin—“

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed again and you winced at the mention of your dead boyfriend.

Dean was quiet as he watched you fiddling with your jacket sleeve, trying not to cry.

“I—Y/N, I’m sorry.” Dean sighed.

“It’s fine.” you said quietly.

“I just—we were just worried. You know that. We didn’t hear from you for a year. We thought you might’ve been dead. You just… left.”

You nodded slowly.

“No, I know.” you mumbled.

Everyone was silent again.

“Well, um, I’m gonna get some dinner for us,” Dean said as he got up. “Does, uh, anyone have any preferences?”

Everyone shook their head.

“Right,” he said. “Cas, come with me?”

Castiel nodded but not before walking over to you, handing you notebooks you didn’t even know he had in his hand. You looked up at him.

“I, uh, got you these in different colors. I didn’t know which one was your favorite.” he said.

You smiled softly.

“Thank you, Cas. I appreciate it.”

Castiel nodded before he walked out of the motel with Dean, leaving you with just Sam.

It was silent before Sam spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

You froze and looked up at him.


Your brother looked at you with his puppy dog eyes.

“You’re always thinking about the same thing.  Ever since you came back. I can see it in your eyes. After everything I’ve gone through, I wish I would’ve accepted some help from—”

“Please stop.” you pleaded.

Sam looked at you.

“Y/N?” he asked gently.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Why are you and Dean so adamant on finding out where I was?” you asked, anger tinting your voice.

“Because Y/N, we can see it’s eating at you. You want to tell someone what happened.” he said softly.

You got up, glaring at your brother.

“No, I don’t! I want you guys to leave me alone! Okay?! That was the deal. I come back and you guys ask no questions. So stop interrogating me!” you nearly yelled.

Sam looked down, hurt and you felt tears well up in your eyes, guilt filling you. You knew he was only trying to help.

“I-I’m going out. I’ll be back later. Tell Dean I’m at that diner or something. I don’t care.” you said as you walked towards the door.

“Wait, Y/N.” Sam began as he got up.

“Sam,” you warned, looking back at your brother.

He stopped, looking at you with concern.

“Don’t.” you said and with that you stepped out of the motel, closing the door behind you.

The warm spring air from earlier had cooled down, making you pull your jacket closer to you. The sun was starting to set, giving off a beautiful orange glare. As you walked down the street from the motel, kicking at rocks, you remembered the last day you had seen Kevin.

“Hey guys.” Kevin said as he stepped out from behind Chuck.

Your and your brothers eyes widened.

“Kevin?” you whispered.

He beamed.


You let out a breathless laugh and rushed over to him, throwing your arms around him. He hugged you back tightly and it was then you realized he wasn’t cold like a ghost, but he was… warm? You pulled away from his, holding what you thought was your long dead boyfriend by the shoulders.

“H-How are you—”

“You never got a chance to say goodbye, did you?” Chuck said from next to you.

You shook your head.

“No.” you whispered.

Chuck smiled at you.

“Well, now you do. I’m giving you one last day together. 24 hours starting now. Then he goes to Heaven. I’ll see you later.” he said and with that, disappeared.

You turned back to Kevin who was beaming at you.

“So… what do you want to do?” he asked.

You tried to keep your tears at bay as you walked down the street, shoving your hands in your pockets. Yes, you and Kevin dated. You met him when you were thirteen and started dating him a little after you had turned fourteen. You had tried to keep it a secret from Sam, Dean, and Castiel but they found out within a couple months. Sam was worried (when was he not?) for the both of you, Castiel was indifferent to the situation, and Dean had tried to break you apart, claiming you weren’t allowed to date anyone until you were married.

“But I’m not ever getting married, Dean!”


You cracked a smile as you remembered your eldest brother’s reaction to your relationship. Despite his disgust towards you guys kissing and all, you managed to catch him smirking at the two of you holding hands at one point (though he vehemently denied it and then sent you to do research for two weeks.)

However, your smile faded as you remembered the day, that horrible day when you found Kevin on the ground in the bunker with his eyes burned out. Dean was apologizing to you over and over again but you didn’t even hear him. You were in such a shock, you couldn’t cry. You could barely even breathe. It was the worst day of your life.

You shook your head again, trying to rid yourself of the memories. You thought you could move on from Kevin’s death after Chuck had granted you one day with him. But it only spiraled out of control from there.


A/N: Before I wrote this fic, I actually did write a Kevin x OC story, but never posted it. I’m kinda combining it with this one, and I like how it’s turning out so far! Hope you guys are liking it too!


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Winchesters in Riverdale (Part Four)

After a hunt gone wrong, Y/N Winchester, the 17 year old half-sister of Sam and Dean Winchester, her older brothers, and Castiel are transported to Riverdale, a town in a different universe. While Sam, Dean, and Castiel attempt to find a way back home, Y/N struggles to fit in in community of Riverdale. In a universe with no monsters to worry about, there’s so many questions that need answering.

Can she ever try to be normal after hunting for all of her life? Who’s the good-looking, mystical teen with the beanie who’s always at that diner? And will anyone discover that secret she’s been hiding for the last year and a half?


Part One

Part Two

Part Three

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying this series so far! That is all. xD

Riverdale gif by @stefan-salvatores


In the seventeen years you had been alive, there was only time where you felt at peace. One time you felt truly, truly happy. That moment was fourteen months ago. In your bed. Lying next to Kevin.

Kevin brushed a lock of hair behind your ear and you snuggled into the warmth of the bed, looking up at him. The two of you just stared at each other, as if you were trying to memorize every detail of the other.

“Do you really have to go?” you nearly whispered, breaking the silence.

Kevin smiled sadly.

“What do you think?” he asked back.

You snorted softly, cupping Kevin’s cheek with your palm.

“I just… I love you, Kevin.” you said.

Kevin smiled softly.

“I love you too, Y/N.” he said.

You smiled and they both leaned in to meet each other with a passionate kiss. You pulled away and felt your eyelids start to droop. Kevin chuckled.

“Trying to stay up? After…” he trailed off, smirking at you.

You chuckled, blushing slightly as you remembered what the two of you finally did fifteen minutes ago.

“I don’t want to miss a single moment with you.” you answered truthfully.

Kevin placed another soft kiss on your lips again.

“Come here,” he said, holding the covers up slightly.

You moved closer to him and turned around, your back pressed against your boyfriend’s bare chest.

“I’ll always be here, okay? Even when you can’t see me,” he said.

You felt tears in your eyes but blinked them away. Tears could come later. You felt him wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He kissed your shoulder lightly.

“Close your eyes. I’ll be here when you wake.” he whispered and you nodded, quickly drifting off, Kevin’s warm arms around you.

The cold bed was what woke you eight hours later.

“What are you thinking about?” Jughead asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.


The school day had ended and the two of you were now walking to Pop’s. Jughead had offered to buy you a milkshake and you couldn’t refuse. A Winchester and free food? Come on.

“You seemed pretty deep in thought there for a minute.” the raven-haired teen said.

“Oh,” you said, letting out a forced chuckle. “Just some stuff on my mind, that’s all.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jughead asked.

You shook your head.

“Not particularly.” you said.

That was.

Jughead nodded and dropped the subject, the two of you entering a surprisingly comfortable silence as you finished the walk to Pop’s. You walked into the diner and took your seat at one of the booths as Jughead placed your order. He soon joined you and the two of you got into a heavy debate about 70s and 80s bands.

“Nuh uh!” you cut in. “Zeppelin wins every time! Don’t you remember “Stairway to Heaven?” Talk about iconic songs.”

Jughead scoffed.

“How about Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man,” huh? Or even—”

“Jughead!” a voice called from behind you.

You turned around to see the very nicely dressed black-haired teen from earlier at lunch making her way over to the two of you, the jock and the blonde girl following her.

Jughead gave you an apologetic expression before looking back up at the “fancy” teen.

“Veronica.” he acknowledged.

The girl, Veronica apparently, looked at you and smiled widely.

“Hey!” she greeted. “Got room for three more of us?”

Jughead turned his gaze back to you, ready for you to instantly say “no.”

But you didn’t.

You looked back to Veronica with a genuine smile on your face.

“Sure, why not?” you asked as you scooted over.

Veronica beamed as she took a seat next to you, Jughead looking at you with surprise. He had expected you to boot her out of there. The other two teens that were with Veronica squished in next to Jughead, forcing him to the corner of the booth.

“Veronica Lodge.” Veronica said, holding her hand out for you.

“Y/N Winchester.” you said as you took it, shaking it.

You turned to the jock who called himself “Archie Andrews” and the blonde who called herself “Betty Cooper.”

“Nice to meet you guys.” you said.

“You too.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Veronica looked back and forth between you and Jughead.

“So…” she began. “What were you guys talking about?”

And the game was afoot! Well… the debate was. Although this time, Jughead was outnumbered. Betty and Veronica had taken your side in the musical argument while Archie had taken Jughead’s. After listing countless songs and albums, you looked outside only to see it was dark. Your eyes widened as you realized you had been at the diner for hours.

“Oh, son of a bitch,” you cursed. “I need to get home. My brothers are—”

The front door swinging open abruptly interrupted you, making you quickly turn around. You sighed in relief once you realized it wasn’t Sam or Dean, but rather Castiel. Castiel quickly scanned the diner before his eyes met yours and he began to walk over to you.

“Damn.” you muttered as you faced forward again.

“What?” Veronica asked. “What’s—”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Castiel asked you as he reached the booth, unintentionally making the other teens jump.

You sighed as you pushed your hair back.

“No,” you answered truthfully. “I don’t. I was talking with my friends. Just got carried away.”

The Core Four (except Veronica who was positively radiating) smiled softly at you calling them your “friends.” Castiel sighed.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said to the other teens, his annoyed tone changing to apologetic. “But Y/N’s brothers want her home.”

“Yeah, of course.” Veronica said as she slid out of the booth so you could get out.

You waved goodbye to everyone, but your gaze lingered on Jughead just a moment longer.

“See you guys at school,” you said. “And Jug? Thanks for the milkshake. See you in English?” you asked.

Jughead smirked.

“Of course.”

You smiled at his words before you followed Castiel out of the diner, the two of you walking in silence. After a few minutes, the angel spoke.

“I-I truly am sorry for disrupting time with your new friends, Y/N.” he apologized.

You gave a small smile to the angel.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I understand.”

Castiel nodded.

“It’s Sam and Dean. They were just afraid that you…” he trailed off.

You finished his thought in your head anyway.

They were afraid that you ran away again.

“I get it,” you said before stopping. “And Castiel?”

The angel stopped as well, turning towards you.

“I-I never thanked you for what you did for me. For sticking by my side for the last year. For being there. Just… thank you.”

Castiel’s expression softened.

“It’s… no problem.” he managed to say.

You nodded and the two of you continued the walk back to the motel in comfortable silence.

“Castiel,” you called as you looked up, your voice shaky.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried to keep your trembling hands steady. You sat on the side of your bed, unable to stand, your leg involuntarily bouncing up and down.

“I need you to help me.”

A beat of silence. Then you heard the sound of wings rustling.

“What is it?” the familiar gravelly voice asked, appearing in front of you.

You quickly got up, opening your mouth only to have no sound come out.

“Y/N, you look pale. Are you alright?” the angel asked.

You shook your head.

“Cas, I need you to do something for me,” you began. “But you need to swear not to tell Sam or Dean. No matter what the outcome.”

“Y/N, of course, what—”

“No, I need to hear you say it. That you promise not to tell them, Castiel. Please. They can’t know.” you begged.

Castiel nodded, looking at you with concern.

“I promise,” he said. “What can I do?”

You took a deep breath, looking down.

“Okay. I… Um…” you began. “I-I need you to get me a pregnancy test.”


A/N: Y’ALL KNOW HOW I LOVE MY KIDFICS. ;) Hope you enjoyed! Send me feedback!


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Cloudy Emotions pt. 2

(A/N): This is sort of short… sorry! :(

Pairings: Natasha x Platonic!Reader

Request: Could you do a part 2 to ‘Cloudy emotions’?

Part 1: [x]

Warnings: None

Tags: @sxph-t @iamwarrenspeace @bigfootsiddhartamama @fandomnationwhore

Originally posted by gonegvrl

Since (Y/N) left, the sun shined bright in the sky but Natasha’s life turned cloudy. She became depressed without them around, never knowing how much time she spent with (Y/N) until they left and she was left alone. She didn’t have anyone to train with, watch horror movies, bake cookies, gossip to, go out to get ice cream, play with her hair, talk her through nightmares… she didn’t have her best friend and it was killing her. She had to get (Y/N) back.

Natasha knew (Y/N) needed time but it didn’t help the urge to call them every day. She hurt them in a way she thought was unforgivable and she didn’t know if they would ever talk to her again but she had to try. She considered asking Clint for help but decided to find (Y/N) by herself, knowing she needed to do this on her own.

She knew (Y/N) would still stay in the city but would stay low so, she had to do a bit of digging but found (Y/N) living in a small apartment at the edge of the city. Her first instinct was to rush over and apologize but restrained herself from doing something impractical. It had only been three weeks since (Y/N) left and she knew they were still hurting and probably didn’t want to see her. 

So, she decided to wait another week to make it a month before driving over to (Y/N)’s apartment. Her mind is on overdrive, figuring out the right words to say and she feels she might explode as she pulls up to the building. She sits in the car for an hour, not being able to peel her body away from the seat but finally works up the courage before walking into the building. She is usually calm and collected, she as a spy after all, but currently her nerves were on fire, her hands were shaking and a nervous sweat was taking over. She really hoped (Y/N) would talk to her. 

Natasha walks up to the third floor, finding the correct door before taking a shaky deep breath and knocking on the door. She bounces on her feet, willing her nerves to calm down when she hears footsteps on the other side before the door swings open. She observes a wide eyed (Y/N) and she nervously clears her throat. “Hey…”

“What are you doing here, Nat?” (Y/N) questions quietly and Natasha can see the tiredness in their eyes.

“I just… came by to see how you were doing.” Natasha states as she mentally slaps herself at the response and (Y/N) purses their lips, looking at the ground as they awkwardly twist their foot around. 

“I’m okay.” (Y/N) responds as they look up into Natasha’s green orbs. “Is there anything else?”

Natasha rubs her neck self-consciously, averting their gaze away from (Y/N)’s intense gaze. “I actually came here to talk.”

(Y/N) begins to shake their head gently as they lightly clench their fists, a tinge of anger suddenly in their body. “What is there to talk about? I get it… I’m different because I’m gay.”

Natasha immediately shakes her head in response. That not at all what she was here for or what she wanted to say. “No, that’s not-” 

“I thought you out of everyone…” (Y/N) chokes out as tears begin to build in their eyes and Natasha wants to wipe them away and protect them from all harm.


“I-I really don’t want to talk about this. I’m sorry.” (Y/N) says as they shut the door and Natasha stares at the door, giving a sad sigh. A quiet sob is heard on the other side and Natasha feels her heart break.

She wasn’t going to leave again. She was going to be there for (Y/N), even if they didn’t want her to be so, she slowly leans against the wall next to their door, sliding down it. She sits, closing her eyes before leaning her head against the wall as the sound of rain hitting the apartment fills the air. 

Natasha sits for hours on the floor, not caring that her body begs to stand and stretch. She watches some people pass by, giving her strange looks as they go to their own apartments but she dismisses it not really caring on other’s people’s opinions. A sigh escapes her as she adjusts her body in attempt to get comfortable when (Y/N)’s door slowly opens.

(Y/N)’s head pops out, red eyes observing Natasha on the ground as surprise takes over their features. “Have you been sitting here this entire time?” (Y/N) asks and Natasha nods her head. (Y/N) is at a loss for words before offering a hand to the redhead and Natasha grabs it, pulling herself up. (Y/N) drags her into their apartment before looking into her green eyes. “Why’d you stay?”

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone again.” Natasha admits honestly as she stares at (Y/N)’s shining eyes. “I came here to apologize about before. I was an absolute jerk to you and you didn’t deserve it. When you left, I realized how much I cared about you and how being gay doesn’t affect anything.” Natasha pauses a moment as a sad smile pulls at the corner of her lips. “You’re my best friend, I love you more than most people and I’m so lost without you. Please… come back.”

Natasha doesn’t even have time to react as (Y/N) tackles her in a bone crushing hug, arms tightly holding on to her and she instinctively returns the gesture. She feels her shoulder becoming wet from what she can only guess is (Y/N)’s tears, their body shaking.

“I missed you so damn much, Tash.” (Y/N) mumbles into Natasha’s shoulder and she smiles, burying her face into their neck.

“I missed you too. I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Natasha utters out and (Y/N) only hugs her harder, small chuckle escaping.

“It’s okay, I forgive you. All that matters is I have you back.” Natasha can’t help but smile not relenting on her grip around (Y/N)’s torso. She loved (Y/N) no matter what and she will protect them at all cost. Natasha had her best friend back and she knew that if she looked out a window, a clear sky would be seen for miles.


JUNE 15TH 2018


DATE: JUNE 15TH 2018

On MONDAY, JUNE 4TH 2018; symptoms of a virus began to appear in several regions of the American Southwest, Central America, and Southeast Asia. Physical descriptions of the illness were reminiscent of certain animal bites, but none could be matched to a specific animal. The origin of the virus is unknown. I will continue to post my findings as they come, including updates about new symptoms.

Goodnight for now,

Dr. Xander J. Fitzgerald


  • HIGH FEVER (100.4F / 38C) 
  • PAIN


DATE: JUNE 23RD 2018

The CDC has officially released a press statement as of 8:13AM EST this morning, on SATURDAY, JUNE 23RD 2018, to discuss the status of the disease. They have verified that the new strain, now formally referred to as the T2R2H9 Virus, is legitimate. They’re working on finding a cure, and methods on how to contain it. The Department of Defense has yet to confirm the allegations of initiating martial law to quarantine majors cities, in which the virus has been documenting more reports of the virus.  




DATE: JUNE 26TH 2018

A new break has come in search of a cure for the virus. An independent medical group stationed in Chicago, IL has reported that  they’ve attempted to see if they can slow the rate at which the virus spreads or terminate it with rounds of known antibiotics. Despite their findings being deemed inconclusive by the CDC, their findings suggest that nothing they tried worked to slow or destroy the virus.





The CDC has released a new statement, as of yesterday, SATURDAY, JUNE 30TH 2018. They announced that none of their attempts to terminate the virus have worked, and that it’s starting to replicate itself faster. Symptoms of T2R1H9 have begun to appear in parts of Europe, Africa, and Oceania. A report from Thailand also came out corroborating the findings, as well as verification that the virus is evolving. No information has yet to be found leading to a definitive cause to the virus’ origin.

No word has still yet to be announced from the Department of Defense about the initiation of martial law, however; news outlets have speculated rumors about a bill that will temporarily shut down trade ports and airlines as a means to attempt to contain the virus.





Chaos has begun to set in s news about the virus continues to spread. The public is unrest, and most are fleeing to rural areas to escape the violence of the cities. The Department of Defense has officially placed the United States of America under martial law, and instructs all nations who have yet to follow suit to do so as soon as possible. Autopsies of those who have been killed before the virus could fully spread, have yet to provide leads to a potential cause to help examiners get closer to finding a cure.

Examinations of the bodies showed that several major organs appeared heavily deoxygenated and inflamed, even hours after experiencing the first symptoms. Dissection of the infected organs revealed they were filled with pus and what resembled black mold. One examiner, T. Kanai, said that upon examining one of the mouths of the deceased, she noticed that their teeth were abnormal. She initially assumed the individual had gingival recession, but their gums were perfect and showed no signs of disease or decay. Instead, it was their teeth that seemed to be moving, as if there were new teeth trying to push their way up to the surface. Kanai also commented that something about their eyes made her uncomfortable, but declined to comment any further.





The CDC has set up quarantine centers across the United States, Canada, and Mexico as means to section off the infected from the healthy. In these government sanctioned camps, on staff medical and government personnel have released statements about their findings as they do rest runs to find a cure; which were leaked to the Deep Web and appeared on various political and government message boards over the past 48 hours.

According to personnel in an undisclosed base in Arizona, they revealed that some of the symptoms have taken a drastic and sinister turn for the worst. An unidentified petty officer and medical examiner reported seeing infected individuals with dark blue to black scleras; as well as a sudden loss of their fingernails and seizures. Their accounts have yet to be confirmed, and the CDC has ordered that all deceased individuals are to be burned as a safety precaution; whether or not they’re infected with the virus. The virus has been confirmed as being in six continents, and all airports and borders in 110 countries have been closed as of MONDAY, JULY 9TH 2018.




DATE: JULY 17TH 2018

A research team in Wyoming has taken the data calculated from the base in Arizona, and decided to do a series of experiments to study how the virus changes. According to the study, they took three patients who are at different rates of the infection; placing them under heavy surveillance in separated chambers on TUESDAY, JULY 10TH 2018 at 13:00


SUBJECT #1: Sex unspecified. Aged 25. Showing mild-moderate symptoms; loss of appetite, moderate body aches, tremors, nausea, vomiting, and mild hallucinations [visual].

Overall Health; Stable. Mood or Temperament; Good. Thoughts; Clear.

SUBJECT #2: Sex female. Aged 33. Showing moderate-severe symptoms; rapid weight loss, nausea, vomiting, dilated veins, mild discoloration of the scleras, fingernail loss, moderate hallucinations [visual and auditory], mild-moderate tremors, and a high blood cell count.

Overall Health; Stable. Mood or Temperament; Fine. Thoughts; Scattered.

SUBJECT #3: Sex male. Aged 45. Showing severe symptoms; demonstrates some degree of all the known symptoms, with the exception of loss of appetite. SUBJECT #3 shows symptoms that has yet to be documented among the infected; (1) His original teeth have fallen out, and replaced by a rows of jagged, sharp teeth; made for ripping flesh from bone, and (2)a form of “Wendigo Psychosis”, which is characterized by a deep craving for human meat as food. Upon being given a cooked steak, he refused to eat it. When given a raw steak, he became curious–only to throw it across the room after tasting it. When given a scrap bucket of viscera from the morgue, he took it into a corner and devoured all the contents.

Overall Health; Unstable. Mood or Temperament; Easily distressed and Volatile. Thoughts; Scattered and Unclear.


SUBJECT #1: Condition has steadily gotten worse. SUBJECT #1’s scleras have turned black, and now expresses bouts of intense rage.

Overall Health; Unstable. Mood or Temperament; Unpredictable. Thoughts; Unclear

SUBJECT #2: Condition has remained stable. She still has no appetite, and has to be guided to eating. Her scleras are dark gray, and several of her teeth have been replaced with the same teeth as SUBJECT #3. SUBJECT #2 refuses to sleep, or can’t.

Overall Health; Stable. Mood or Temperament; Anxious. Thoughts; Scattered.

SUBJECT #3: Condition remains unstable. He refuses to eat any food items that aren’t in his bucket, and has been documented demonstrating violent bursts of rage if his needs aren’t met accordingly. SUBJECT #3 requires maximum level amount of security when having food transferred to him, and has demonstrated inhuman amounts of strength. He was also recorded from surveillance cameras, tormenting and antagonizing on duty staff.

Overall Health; Unstable. Mood or Temperament; Unstable. Thoughts; Scattered and Cloudy.


SUBJECT #1: Condition has slowly gotten worse; now demonstrating incredible bouts of strength, throwing their bed across the room when their demands weren’t met. When SUBJECT #1’s fingernails were collected for testing, they attacked an on duty guard; mildly injuring him in the process. SUBJECT #1 refuses to talk to or comply with the orders of staff officials. The status of the guard’s health has yet to be disclosed.

Overall Health; Unstable. Mood or Temperament; Agitated. Thoughts; Unclear.

SUBJECT #2: Condition has slowly gotten worse; her loss of appetite has receded, and she now claims to have an insatiable appetite for raw meat. When asked why, she said she doesn’t know–only that she feels like she’s going to die if she doesn’t. On duty staff decided to test their theory, placing a raw steak and a large bucket of harvested viscera on her table. After some time, she took a liking to the content of the bucket over the steak. After finishing the contents, she was asked why she made the choice she did; to which she said she doesn’t know, only that something told her to-and how she thinks she wants more.

Overall Health; Good. Mood or Temperament; Stable, yet easily distraught. Thoughts; Clear.

SUBJECT #3: During the sixth night, SUBJECT #3 attacked and killed an unarmed staff member in his cell. The guard was found crudely disemboweled; with his organs gone and his blood splattered across the room. The subject was found in the corner of his cell, smiling with blood on his face, arms and body. All attempts to subdue him by armed personnel failed, and was fatally gunned down as a last resort.

Overall Health; TERMINATED

The experiment has been terminated, but SUBJECT #1 and SUBJECT #2 were sent to a maximum security area for further examination before being reintegrated with the base. SUBJECT #1 show little sign of improving, and SUBJECT #2 is unclear.




DATE: JULY 20TH 2018

This will be my last update for some time. I’m going to be boarding a private flight with a group of on base scientists to a base in the American Northwest to collect more data on the virus; which will include myself, KW, JG, OA, MN, DZ, NV, and AM. I’ll do my best to update my log regularly when we arrive to my destination. We’re expected to depart on TUESDAY, JULY 24TH 2018 at 03:00. We’ve been informed ahead of time that we’ll be have to receive extensive training before we would be allowed to interact with the infected directly; meaning we will only have access to interviews and data by means of surveillance footage or by means of separation as demonstrated with the experiment. We’ll be careful, and the next update should be from our new findings at the base.

As of now, no new information has come forward about the status of any recently discovered symptoms.


DATE: JULY 26TH 2018

We landed at the base two days ago, and our search for a cure has been going as planned. My investigation team and I are going to undergo our official training tomorrow morning, which will give us time away from the lab to get acclimated to what it will be like to work with the infected up close. We’re nervous, but hopeful. We’ve been informed that representatives from CDC bases on the East Coast will be flown in via a private service to work alongside us in our mission to provide a vaccine for the virus; with the hope that it will prevent it from spreading further. The current estimated number of the infected population is 956 million.




DATE: JULY 31ST 2018

Our training course has been successful, and we’re scheduled to start getting to work with the infected in the next few days. Several of my colleagues are hopeful that if we don’t find a cure soon, we’ll at least find a patch to slow the virus’ replication rate. Yet, many others remain skeptical and doubtful; with this being the fastest spreading virus that we’ve come to know, infecting nearly one-seventh of the world population in less than two months. I’m going to call this update closed for now, as I have a lot of papers to handle, and my designated team and I have to transport some of the infected to a new security base.




DATE: AUGUST 1st 2018

Shit. Shit. Something went wrong during the transporting process. When we were escorting the infected inside, a guard didn’t see two infected individuals that were roaming the premises unsupervised; being subsequently attacked in the process. We weren’t prepared for this. They didn’t train us for this. We tried to quickly get the other inside, but the two infected ragers got in with us. They attacked the five of us who were closest to the door; an unnamed guard, OA, KW, NV, and myself. I was too slow, and one thing they don’t tell you during your training OPs is that they bite hard. We’re being placed under quarantine for the next few days to check on us, just in case they microscopically broke any skin during the scuffle. I was given permission to bring my computer into my designated chamber, so I can continue to work while I’m recovering. In the event I have become infected with the virus, I’ll be given a series of test drugs to see if they’ll cancel out the negative effects of the virus. I’ll also be documenting my experiences with those as the days unfold. This is going to be a long, long ride.



It’s been two hours since we were quarantined, and just over three since we were initially attacked. I was bitten and scratched on my left calf, and the pain was excruciating. I was screaming and cursing at the top of my lungs nearly the entire way to the emergency unit. The pain was unlike anything I ever felt; being a combination of what I can only describe as a snake bite, a wasp sting, and a second degree burn being magnified ten fold. After my wounds were disinfected and patched up, I was given a round of test antibiotics and a morphine pump before being escorted to my isolation chamber.

The room is sterile, and smells vaguely of pine and cedar. I have a single metal frame bed, a desk connected to the wall, a single shelf above the desk, and a small table where my meals would be served. It feels surreal being in a room like this, knowing what became of those during the experiment. At the moment, I feel fine. The morphine has been helping a lot to dull the pain. The only thing to report on is that the muscles in my left leg feel aggravated and sore.




I got couple messages from people asking to know how I’m doing, and how the rest of my team is. It’s been six hours since my last post, and I’m starting to feel nauseous and experiencing some dizziness; though whether or not that’s attributed to the virus, or is a side effect of the medications they have me on–I’m not sure. As far as the others go, I haven’t been told yet. I’ll do my best to remember to ask a guard the next time one of them comes by to check my vitals. I’m going to try to get some rest and see if that helps or not.





It’s day two of my recovery process. I woke up at 06:00 to have my vitals checked, and had breakfast served to me at 06:30. I’m still feeling nauseous, so I didn’t have much of an appetite. I picked at some of the fruit they gave me, and resorted to mainly sticking to a cup of hot coffee. I feel heavy and fatigued all over, as if I just have a serious cold. I might go back to bed soon. I don’t have the energy to move around right now. I’m going to respond to some emails I got in regards to the recent updates, and then call it quits until I have my vitals checked again at 1230 hours.




It’s 12:45, and I woke up in excruciating pain about an hour ago. I jolted up in my sleep feeling like my skin was on fire, and I felt like I tore a muscle. Not pulled or strained, but tore a muscle–as if it was ripping itself from the bone. I tried to give myself as many pumps of morphine as I could, but I’m on a timed system. So even after a full dose, I was still in tremendous pain half an hour after the fact. An armed guard and two medical personnel came in to get my vitals, and I told them about my pain levels.

They assured me that this was normal, and to not worry. I also asked about how the unnamed guard, KW, OA, and NV were doing. They told me they were fine, and they should be discharged soon. If they or others from my group come by to check on me, I’ll be able to verify their statements then. I’m going to try to eat something light to get my strength up, and then possibly get back to working on some papers from my bed. The current estimated infected population, according to the main CDC headquarters, has now reached 1.7 billion.




It’s 18:35 and the medical personnel gave me some medication to bring my appetite up, and so far, it’s helping. I was able to clear off a sandwich and a small salad, and I’m doing well with holding it down. The medic who checked on me took some new labs, and said I should have my results in by tomorrow afternoon to see if the antibiotics are working or not. They were surprised I was as calm as I was at the time, and that it was a relief for them. I asked them what they meant by that, but they wouldn’t budge. I pried them about it until I got them to cave. I’m still part of this investigation, and I have the right to know what’s going on.

They told me that they’ve worked with hundreds or even thousands of people who have been been affected by the virus, and that knowing how calm, almost unaware of how sick I truly was, caught them off guard. They continued to say that mood swings are one of the most commonly reported symptoms, and are more often than not, violent. I stopped them for a moment, asking what they meant by the last thing they said; about not being aware of how sick I really was. They immediately froze, and stopped talking; as if they realized they said something they weren’t supposed to. They just grabbed their supplies and left without saying another thing.

I’m starting to a little scared, and I still haven’t seen the rest of my team. I’m going to try to get some rest again soon. I can hear a storm coming, and from the looks of it, it won’t be a good one.





I apologize for not updating yesterday like I should have. The weather has been atrocious, and our entire grid lost power from 04:30 to 20:50. I was able to get some notes types out before my battery died, so here’s what I’m able to recall.

My morning routine went much the same, and I was able to be escorted to a quarters area to clean myself up. Getting some fresh air away from my confinement was fine, but I still felt like a caged animal with how close I was being monitored. My body aches and pains have subsided, and I was able to move around more without feeling like I need some type of assistance. My appetite had come back, and was able to make up for all the calories I missed in the form of heavy nutritional shakes and protein bars. Working in near darkness threw my circadian rhythm off, and I ended up sleeping most of the day.

Today was much the same, after the power came back. I was finally able to get my lab results back, and my white blood cell count was triple what it should have been. My body knew something was wrong, and was doing its best to fight off whatever it was. The medic who saw me the previous day came back to administer more antibiotics and experimental test drugs, as well as give me another physical. In the light of the room, they were able to make out my features closer and get better readings.

The veins in my hands and arms were mild-moderately dilated, and both my fingernails and cuticles were chipped/torn and beginning to bleed. They took an ophthalmoscope and went to check my vision, pausing for a moment to take notice of what I didn’t want to believe were the color of my eyes. They just gave me this look, one where you know they’re hiding something from you. They continued the examine, and told me that everything was checking out; but whether or not that was a good thing, they wouldn’t say.

But one thing is certain: I’m infected…and if my reports over the last two months had been indicative of anything; it’s that this is only the beginning, and things are going to get worse from here on out.





I wasn’t able to sleep last night. All I could think about is how the past five days have gone, and how this isn’t what I wanted out of coming here. I spent a good hour throwing up, terrified of knowing what awaits me when this damn disease spreads further. I can’t stop thinking about the two subjects in last month’s update that are still, hopefully, alive. I can’t help but to imagine the fear and dread they must feel or have; knowing there’s an insidious being raging inside them, and there’s nothing they can do to stop it. I wonder how many of them tried to fight back against it, and how many gave up and caved to the beast.

While I was curled up on the floor in a mess of my own pity and sorrow, I thought about SUBJECT #3; wondering which category he was in during all of this. Did he try to fight to suppress the side effects, or did he lose hope and let it win? The the days leading up to him being brought in for the study, he seemed fine, albeit distressed. He was clearly hiding something, perhaps trying to mask his pain as the virus weighted him down. I don’t know. I can only hope he’s at peace now, and that the other two; wherever they are, can have some solice in knowing that we’re going to beat this thing. I don’t know how or when, but we will.

We’ve survived the Bubonic Plague, the 1918 Spanish Influenza, world wars. In the wake of tragedy, we’ve proved time and time again that we’re strong and we’re resilient beings. We’re not going to go down without a damn fight. Everything works out in the end. Right?





I’m beginning to feel weak again, and all I want to do is sleep. I’m losing sight of what’s real and what’s not. I can’t tell if I’m seeing or feeling things because I’m cracking up or if it’s the virus showing itself more to me. I spent a good five minutes shaking in bed, and had a grand mal seizure when I went to go clean myself up just an hour ago; which is something that’s never happened to me. I was able to get ahold of DZ and JG; who were given authorization to meet me. For their protection, they were put in specially designated hazmat suits, and I was handcuffed to my desk. It was bittersweet seeing them, and the look on their faces seeing me was otherworldly. I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s just that bleak look of acceptance you see when people are seeing their loved ones for the last time–as if they instinctively knew things weren’t going to end well for me.

They told me the status of the project to look for a cure, which was going as well as I should have expected. The virus was replicating at an alarming rate, and there was no telling what could be used or done to slow it down even a fraction of the rate it was developing. The virus was changing its structure almost every 72 hours like clock work, and predicting its next makeup structure was impossible. In layman’s terms; we were fucked. I then asked them about how the others were doing. MN and AM were fine, and were planning on heading back to our original camp to get away from all the stress they were dealing with here. When I asked them about KW, OA, NV, and the guard; they went quiet.

JG asked me if I was serious, and then became angry when I told him I had no clue what either of them were talking about. I didn’t even know how they got hurt or how bad it ultimately was, only that I wasn’t the only one who got attacked. DZ was surprised that I wasn’t told about anything, and proceeded to fill me in to the best of their abilities. The day after we were quarantined, they got the news that OA died sometime during the night when her aorta ruptured sometime in her sleep. KW was in and out of the operating room since yesterday for what they only told me was “organ failure”, and that NV was stable, but refusing to talk to anyone. I asked them about the guard again, and they told me when they went to go visit KW in the ICU; they swore they saw someone strapped to a gurney, screaming about how “that fucking disease is going to kill us all” and “kill me now before it makes me hurt you”.

Before they left, they tried to comfort me and tell me that they’re not going to stop looking for a way to beat this; even if they have to die trying. JG added that he was going to send me something to look over when he gets back to his dorm. He told me it was for my eyes only, and to not share it with anyone in our circle. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I told him I would keep his promise.




I got JG’s file attachment, and I spent a good hour analyzing it. If what he sent me is true, then this changes everything. Not only for our investigative team, but all of us. In all my years as a virologist, I’ve never seen anything like this before, and it could possibly be one of the most blatant cases of medical malpractice that I’ve ever seen. If this is real, then it would be morally repugnant for me to keep this a secret. I’ll post an update in an hour with my decision. I’m starting to feel sick again, and my back pain is starting to surge again.


Goddammit. I don’t know what to even make of this now. I fired a message to JG, asking him if anyone else in our group knows about this. He replied back quickly; telling me that DZ does, and he plans on telling MN and AM before they board their flight back home. I could tell he knew I was onto something, to which he sent me an angry email back. He insisted that if I told anyone about the attachment, that there was going to be dire consequences for all of us. I demanded to know where he got the information from, to which he told me that he talked to the guard he saw strapped to the gurney in private when the medical team was gone. The guard said that he saw someone open the gate where the two infected people were, and that it wasn’t an accident. The guard was adamant that the attack was on purpose, and that he was sure he wasn’t the intended target–but one of us were.

He went on to say that he found the two surviving candidates from the test, SUBJECT #2 told him about how she became infected with the virus. She claims that she was a child psychologist turned EMT in the wake of the outbreak, and that she often hopped from base to base to help where she could. While stationed in a base near Atlanta, she was approached by a group that claimed to work for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services about partaking in a clinical study to try a potential vaccine against the virus. When she declined, feeling something off about them, she claims they stowed her into the back of a van, and injected her with what she believes to have been a strain of the virus. She was found abandoned several miles outside Chattanooga, with no recollection of her captures.

Unable to believe the story for himself, she showed him scars she got from the struggle and where she began to develop partial necrosis at the injection site. I thought he was bullshitting with me, until he sent me the photos as proof. My stomach sank, seeing what she went through. He continued by saying that she’s sure this entire outbreak wasn’t a fluke or freak of nature; but something deeper. This whole thing is making my head spin. I’m going to call it quits for the night. I’m starting to feel like someone’s watching me. The current estimated infected population is believed to be 2.8 billion.





I woke up to my pillow and bed sheets being soaked with blood, and I wasn’t sure why. When I went to open my mouth to call for help, my teeth began to fall out-one by one. I don’t think I ever screamed that loud before in my life, and it took two guards to hold me back so I wouldn’t hurt myself. I watched helplessly as a medic bagged my teeth and collected a sample of my blood, walking away as if nothing happened. I don’t think my brain had time to process what was going on, so I instinctively ran my tongue across the inside of my mouth; hoping this was some kind of fucked up dream and that this wasn’t happening. All I could feel were jagged edges where my teeth once were, almost like shards of broken glass.

I snapped, and started wailing on anyone or anything that was close to me. I had enough. Whatever this shit was; a natural occurrence or a some damn test by the government, it was finally starting to really hit me that this was real. I could feel my blood boil as I threw everything I could get my hands on across the room. I smashed my table to pieces, and ripped the shelf from the wall; stripping the bolts in the process. It wasn’t until I was coming down from my rage that I saw the extent of what I had done; not only was my room destroyed, but I also broke my left hand in the process. The weirdest part though was that I wouldn’t have even noticed unless I saw it for myself or had it pointed out to me. I can’t tell if my outburst made me invincible or if I’m no longer able to feel pain.

I’ll let you know when I test my hypothesis again.





I’ve been at work testing my theory about my ability to process pain, or possible lack thereof. I took one of the pins off my jacket, and poked at the back of my hand. Nothing. I tried prodding the tips of my fingers. Nothing. I tested it again on my arm, skewering a small piece of my skin in the process. Still nothing. No pain or anything to speak of, even after I started to bleed again. I wanted to push my now, almost certain hypothesis even further.

I took one of my fountain pens, and rolled up my sleeves. I gripped the pen tight in my hand, and with all my strength, I stabbed myself in the upper arm. I could feel the nib of the pen bend from the force, snapping upon making contact with my humerus when it broke through the skin. I ripped the pen out of my arm, sending a large spurt of blood across the floor. Nothing. I barely felt it. What the fuck. I looked at the now broken, useless pen in my hand; covered in blood and what was left of the ink. I stared at it, fascinated. A new thought was starting to cross my mind.

I knew now that my hypothesis was correct; and that this wasn’t a side effect of my mood swings. This was something entirely different. I finally knew, or at least was quite certain, that I could no longer feel pain. Now, I couldn’t help but to wonder if I would find myself in a place where I can no longer feel anything at all. I’ll update you on that theory when the time comes.





I’ve been pouring over my notes, and trying to come to a conclusion as to what I’m going to do with the information JG gave me. The signs were everywhere that this wasn’t normal, and it was something the public needed to know. However, the question was would we do after that makes things complicated. Do we kill the infected, no matter the stage of their diagnosis? Do we just launch all of our nukes, and hope there’s enough survivors to start over? I don’t know.

I finally saw my face for the first time in what feels like weeks. It was eerie to say the least to see how this was manifesting itself; staring back at me. In an attempt to diagnose myself; the physical characteristics of the virus were nearing its final stages for me. My teeth were starting to come back, but weren’t like they once were; now were also cryptid like in their appearance. The capillaries in my skin on my face and neck were more prominent; a condition which my division dubbed “angel skin”, as it gave the appearance of the skin being ethereal, and almost translucent.

My eyes have succumb to changes as well, becoming pitch black and almost void like. Upon closer examination, I noticed that not only did my scleras change, but my irises did as well; going from brown to black, as if they pigment was eaten away. The texture of the hair on my head hasn’t changed, but it seems like the hair everywhere else, aside from my face, was becoming lighter. I don’t recognize myself anymore. Is this the part where I have a nervous breakdown or get lost in myself?

I’ll update this later when I can. I’m starting to feel unwell again, and my stomach hasn’t stopped growling since I left my room.




My stomach has been in a knot all day, and no matter what I try to alleviate it, it just keeps getting worse. I’ve tried an assortment of anti-nausea medications and tricks, but nothing works. For the past hour, something in the back of my mind had an insatiable craving for something. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but the more I lingered on it, the more I knew what was going on. I-I need to test something.


I just sent a request for something specific to eat, and I’m going to see how this turns out. This is sick. I don’t want to do this. But, I have to. I have to find out if what I’m thinking is true. I’ll make another update within the next hour.


Shit. Goddammit. So, I tried to put my theory to the test. It worked. It actually worked. I didn’t want to believe it would, but it did. I spoke to a guard that was part of the week long experiment, and told them about the craving. She understood what I meant by that, and went to go take care of it. She came back with a bucket…that damn bucket. I choked back on my vomit as she put it on the new table in front of me. The smell of the viscera emanating from the bucket was revolting, and I almost threw up. The way they almost shined under the florescent lighting in a collection of their own fluids brought back painful memories of college, and the sheer weight of the bucket caught me off guard.

I pulled it close to me and knew there was only one thing I could do. The voice in the back of my head grew louder, telling me if I don’t eat, then I’m going to die. If I eat, I’ll be okay and it will go away. I swallowed my pride, and reached into the bucket; sloshing the various guts around as they slid across each other. The feeling of wanting to vomit came back as I felt how slick they were. I picked up a chunk of meat, and tore at it with my teeth. The muscle was tough, but gave way the more I ripped into it. It reminded me of a cut of choice meat you would use for a stew. It had some bite to it, and wasn’t stringy.

The nausea I had moments ago melted away the more I ate, and that’s when I knew I was right. This was it. This was the symptom I feared the most, as it signaled the last state of the changes that my team and I were made aware of. Part of me knew this was wrong, and that this wasn’t the kind of person I was. This was sick. This was fucked up. Yet, I couldn’t stop. For a moment, any ounce of self control I had went out the window along with whatever humanity I held onto. I was becoming the very thing I was afraid of, and that there was no going back. This disease..this damn disease made my grave for me, and now I have to lie in it. I don’t know how to tell my team about this. I don’t even know if NV or KW are alive at this point. I just hope that the rest of them are able to get the fuck out of here while they can; especially if that guard was telling the truth.

This will probably be my last update. I don’t trust myself to be around other people, and I don’t know when or if I’m going to lose myself to this. There’s no telling if I’ll be the same person a month from now, a week from now, or even tomorrow. I just don’t know. That’s why I’m stepping away from the investigation as of writing this.  I’m so sorry, but I have to do this. I have to do what’s in my best interest, and trying to fight this thing isn’t one of those things anymore. As part of my way to say goodbye, I’ll be leaving an attachment to the documents I’ve exchanged with JG. Whether or not you choose to use them is up to you. I don’t care, they won’t be of any use for me anymore.

To whoever may be reading this, it’s over. There’s no going back for us as a society. We’re too far gone, and there’s nothing we can do to stop the virus. If you’re one of the lucky ones, run. Run as fast as you can and avoid the infected while you can. It’s up to you to decide whether or not we’re a species worth fighting for. The power is in your hands now. God, forgive us all.

“This is the end, my only friend, the end
It hurts to set you free
But you’ll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end …”

Goodnight for the last time,

Dr. Xander J. Fitzgerald