((Note: Infected speak is in Italics))
The rain pounded the world like an angry god, never ending and ferocious.
It was rare it rained this hard, and even the Infected that inhabited the small town (or most) knew to take cover and wait it out. The hunter that was currently curled up in the bathtub was no exception.
The tub was rather small, the previous occupants having been an elderly pair, and the infected was forced to curl up in foetal position just to fit. His eyes where closed tightly, screwed up as if to will the storm away with sheer force. In truth, the loud noise and flashes frightened him more than anything else.
It had been mind numbing terror that had spurred the hunter to throw himself time and time against the modest two storey house like so many others on this street, against the locked door until his clothes where cut and shredded, until the lock gave and he was sent spilling into the darkened front passage like a rag.
The bottom floor was flooded from the rainwater that had seeped under the door, so instead the special infected had scampered upstairs and curled up in the modest bathroom where there where no windows and no way for him to see the flashing demons outside. He felt safe, the basic part of his mind at ease.
Gradually, the gentle patter of rain on the roof overloaded the loud clashes and bangs of the monsters, and the hunter fell asleep, his mind carrying him far away from the mortal world…
***
A soft nudge slowly brought the hunter back to reality, as much as he didn't want to. His dream was so pleasant, feeling his claws sinking into a human's flesh, the blood slick and warm, the screams the sweetest music…
"CAJUN!"
The hunter, hearing his name echo through his mind sat up with a screech, feeling his forehead connect with something else hard. Cajun yelped and clutched his painful skull with his claws as his eyes opened, seeing the infected he had just assaulted slumped against the wall like a doll, rubbing his own head
"Well shit, Cajun…" The infected opposite him, a Smoker and one of his only companions in this new world, spoke. Apparently, unlike many of the infected, the smokers where still mutating, as was evidenced by the large tumour that consumed most of his right neck, and several tentacle growths poked out at odd angles from the mass, and one long tongue hung from his mouth like a bow tie.
Infected had their own language, of course, but to humans it sounded like grunts and growls. To other infected they picked words out of it, meaning they pretty much had privacy on their side when it came to planning.
Cajun smiled sheepishly with exposed fangs at the glowering smoker, who he noted was covered in blood, taking in his features once again. His eyes where a soft black, a far stretch from Cajun's own, which where pure red, and a mop of untidy blonde hair hung slightly above his eyes and he was dressed in a long brown coat and a pair of blue jeans.
"You been in a fight again, Gary?" Cajun snorted, skirting the apology while gesturing to the blood as he lounged back in the bath, fighting off the urge to cough from the constant green smoke the infected constantly exude was sickening with the combination of the close quarters and Cajun's enhanced senses.
The smoker grunted softly, rolling his eyes
"No… well, yeah, but that's beside the point. The storm's still raging and it makes the commons uppity… and generally more messed up than usual." He muttered softly, eyes glinting with hidden malice.
"What is it?" Cajun asked, getting a feeling from Gary's looks. Raising his eyebrow softly, arms folding softly, careful not to rip his sleeves with his claws, he seemed to utterly forget the fact he was in a bath.
"Well…" He grinned, his voice slightly darker that usual. If Cajun wasn't used to him, he would have found that creepy. Instead, it simply made him more curious.
"Prey." Gary said simply and darkly, his grin widening as Cajun's eyes widened in response, his tongue lolling from his mouth almost comically.
"Where?" He replied, his own voice dark, thick with pure undiluted lust to feed on human flesh – the same treat he had not experienced since this town fell not two weeks before.
The smoker laughed darkly as the hunter snarled, impatient.
"Just outside of town, the old sugar mill." Gary whispered, his long tongue gently curling and uncurling.
"Does anyone else know?" He rumbled, clenching and unclenching
"Not yet, but I have no doubt it won't go unnoticed for long." The smoker shrugged, coughing hoarsely again.
Immediately Cajun leapt from the bathroom and – quite foolishly – leapt headfirst out into the storm, the glass window shattering from the impact. The split second of mind numbing fear he experienced was overwhelmed by the savage need to feed. He landed on all fours in the floodwaters below, growling furiously as he took a moment to glance at his reflection.
His face was scrunched up, lips curled back over sharp fangs. His long brown hair was restrained under his black hood, the sleeves gone, torn away to relieve himself from the heat, as where the bottoms of the trousers, but he still wore a pair of soaked trainers. Not as easy to grip on a surface as bare feet would be, but that didn't matter right now.
Satisfied, Cajun leapt away with a screech, the storm swallowing him up as he started on the journey through town.
Gary watched him go, grinning madly past his swollen tongue before he loped downstairs and out the door, setting off after his companion, he too swallowed by the thundering gods.