Of Magic and Zombies

WARNING: This book will be removed from Inkitt by the end of October. After that, it will be available on A m a z o n.

Dear diary…

Oh, gosh, this is stupid. Who still writes diaries? Better yet, who reads diaries?! The world had ended, ain’t nobody got time for that! Anyway. I’m dying which ironically means that I have more spare time on my hands than the others. No duties on the cabbage patches for me. Yay!

If you are reading this, then… I don’t know. I doubt the world went back to how it was before. Perhaps you are aliens? Archaeologists from distant future? That wolf from Hans’ pack who likes to go through other people’s stuff? Yeah, that’s the most probable option.

If you are reading this, Reinhart, shame on you! Also, I know you’ve been stealing my pudding and I’ve been putting drops of a hair removal potion into it for the past few months. Enjoy your bald spots, jackass!

If you are still reading this, you are probably not Reinhart. He’s a jerk, forget about him. He’s not really important to the story either. Hans is, a little, that German douchebag. Seriously, Germans are so… UGH! I tried to make a Hitler joke with dear Alpha Hans once but he just smirked and called me a stupid American. Who knew that Hitler wasn’t German?! Certainly not me. The American education system sucks.

I’m blabbering, sorry. It’s the fever. I should finish this while I can. Let’s try again.

The world ended. Zombies. Who would have thought? And before you ask, us witches had nothing to do with it. I think. Or if we had, nobody bothered to fill me in.

The humans acted just like in the movies. There was a lot of running, screaming, and dying. Coming back to life and eating your loved ones. Normal stuff like that. Groups of stragglers emerged, taking over easily defendable spots like small islands (zombies don’t like water), walled-out houses and towns (they don’t climb), or castles. That’s where I ended up eventually. But, my story is a little longer than that.

I came to Europe before it all went south. Back then, nobody suspected that something was wrong. It was Beltane, one of the most important holidays for us witches, and my friend’s coven invited me over for a celebration. I was in a bit of a hot spot in my own coven back home in the States (it involved a sexy boyfriend of our head witch, don’t ask), so I eagerly accepted. I mean, fires, magic, lots of alcohol, drunk people willing to have sex with anyone… Who would refuse such an offer? Certainly not me.

So, I packed a tiny suitcase and waved goodbye to my parents, not knowing that it was the last time I’d see them. In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have flipped my father the bird, but whatever, he was an arrogant, toxic jerk.

I hopped on a plane (no, I did not fly a broom across the Atlantic, are you nuts?) and a few hours later, I landed at a small airport in a tiny country called the Czech Republic. The airport was named after some famous man, a former president. A nice guy, at least according to Katka. I’d never heard of him before but she was a local, so I took her word for it.

Katka was the witch friend who invited me to the Beltane celebration. Her name is actually Kateřina but I never figured out how to pronounce it correctly. Czechs and their stupid unique letters. Pronouncing Katka is fun though. It’s like “cat cat”, only without the T at the end. She likes cats so it fits.

I stayed with her in her small apartment, that smelled of lavender, for a couple of days and then we went to the Beltane festival together. It was taking place in one of the castles near the capital.

I’ll give the Europeans one thing – those damn castles are truly something. Authentic pieces of history. Even the old ruins have their stories, you just need to touch those crumbling stone walls, close your eyes, and listen. I was never a particularly sensitive oracle but even I got a few visions from the good old times when people rode horses instead of cars and killed each other with swords instead of guns.

I won’t bore you with all the details from the Beltane. First, all the sex, potions, and alcohol isn’t important to the story at all. And second, I don’t really remember most of it.

The important part is that when we finally sobered up and drove back to Katka’s place, I found out that I can’t go back home. All of the flights were grounded, first just to the States, then worldwide. Pandemic, they were calling it back then.

It was a boring couple of weeks. Everything around us gradually stopped. Planes, trains, buses. Even cars stopped honking under Katka’s windows. People disappeared from the streets. And then the undead started to appear.

You see, when it happened in the States, people pulled out the arsenals they’d been keeping at home and started shooting each other. Sick, healthy, dead, living, it didn’t matter. The Europeans were different. They rarely had firearms at home. Things were much more interesting here. Knives, spears, pitchforks. People got crafty.

The authorities did their best but it was all in vain. The world ended.

The supernatural world wasn’t much better. You’d think that wolf packs or vampire covens would be better suited to fight off a horde of zombies. The truth is, they were perhaps even worse.

Do you know how wolves fight? They tear things apart with their teeth. Do you know what happens when you bite on a ripe walking corpse? Yep, that’s right. You get infected. Ever seen a zombie werewolf? Now that’s a horrifying sight. Fortunately, the infected wolves died fast, but not before they caused carnage all around.

Vampires had it worse, if that’s even possible. As it turned out, the zombie virus was deadly to them even in the early stages of infection, before the human carrying it began to show symptoms. Ever since the first days of the epidemic, infected people walked around. All it took was a sip of their blood and bam, one vampire down. Finding clean blood sources got increasingly more difficult and soon, vampire families were fighting against each other, decimating their kind better than any kind of virus could. Only a handful of vampires survived to the present day.

Ironically, witches had it easiest. We could blend in with the humans almost effortlessly and seek refuge in their communities. Of course it wasn’t always for the best, a lot of the groups were basically just harems for some assface with a big gun and a small dick. But we had means to survive.

How I found myself here is a long story, and I’m afraid I don’t have enough time to write it down. The fever is getting worse. It’s stupid, really. I survived four years without a scratch. And then I get bitten on a common patrol through a clean area? Seriously, that’s just my kind of luck.

Ben was… Well, what do you think? How would you react to your soulmate being bitten by a zombie? Not even to a hand or leg so they could cut it off and hope for the best. No, I had to get bitten on my side. No way to cut that off.

I’m so sorry he has to go through this. After centuries of being alone, he finally finds his mate and it turns out to be a dumb American witch who dies after a couple of months? I guess I’m not the only one who has bad luck.

It’s getting harder to think. Stupid virus. Nobody ever figured it out. What it was, where it came from, how to treat it. How to prevent people from getting infected.

Normally, people who’d been bitten are given a way out. They can say goodbye to their loved ones then put a bullet through their heads. It saves their family from watching them turn. I’d like to save Ben from it too. But Katka and a couple of other witches are working on a spell. Something that should prevent people from turning into rabid beasts after dying. Something to make sure that my “soul” stays glued to my body. If I even have a soul.

It’s scary. Death would be easier. But I have to give this a try, for the sake of other people. If it works, perhaps Katka could save lives in the future. Even if it doesn’t, they’ll learn something from the experience. And I won’t even know.

Ben is here. Holding my hand. I know that if he could cry, he would.

I’m so sorry, honey. I love you. I’m sorry I tried to set you on fire. Things like that happen, right? I really do love you, soulmates or not.

I will have to stop writing soon, they need to put me in restraints. If the spell doesn’t work, which it won’t, they’d have a wild zombie running around. Nobody wants that.

Damn this fever.

I’m so tired.

Goodbye.

Hello and welcome to my newest story! I'm extremely glad you gave it a chance and I hope you'll enjoy it.

To those of you who don't know me, I'm Anna and I write all kinds of romance books. You can find some here and some on A m a z o n and KU. For more information, you can visit www.authorannasvoboda.com, check out my FB page @AuthorAnnaSvoboda or join my FB group Anna's Fiction Addiction (there will be a big giveaway in the group soon, don't miss out on that :)

Many thanks to:

Mojgan GM and Tiana Dunlap for proofreading,

Isa Rinner, Eva Niemeyer, and Kerli Urbas for help with German and Estonian translations,

Tanya Liburkin Dan for explaining how virus research works.

The book will be updated every 2 days, the updates will begin on Saturday March 18. I will always put the next update day at the bottom of the last chapter so nobody gets confused (mainly me, I rarely know what day is it :D). I will be glad for all the comments and if you want to discuss the chapters with the fellow readers, you will be welcome in Anna's Fiction Addiction :)

PS: Apologies to all Germans (and werewolves) reading this. Valentina really doesn't like you xD