Author's note: My first Left 4 Dead fanfiction! Prequel to an eventual crossover fanfic based on Resident Evil 5. Feel free to offer suggestions for possible chapters or characters to add.

Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead. I do own my OC though.

A Wandering Mind

The skyline of San Diego shone brightly in the heat of early October; a light breeze playfully tossed stray leaves and debris from a knocked over trashcan. A still form of a person lay next to it, bloody and dead; mutilated by many vicious hands, head ripped clean off and crushed. A shadow passed over the carnage as a lone person walked slowly passed. They stopped, and turned their head to gaze at the mess. Eyes, so dark as to be nearly black blinked in uneasy curiosity. Stronger wind toyed with long pale blond hair; formerly slender and delicate fingers flexed 13 inch, razor sharp knife like claws, clicking the weapons together in nervous thought. The noon-day sun beat down uncomfortably on the girl's head; as the stench of decay and old blood made her sensitive nose wrinkle in disgust. Giving a small, anxious snort, she backed away from the destroyed corpse and looked around. No sign of any life or…un-dead life for that matter. The scent of salt water penetrated the girl's nose, intriguing her and coaxing her to walk forward towards the pleasant smell; it was certainly far better than a rotting corpse scent. Her bare feet made no sound as she walked the hot pavement; torn jeans swished from her strides. Her ripped t-shirt was stained with dried blood; her own, from an unfortunate attack by a strange, leaping man wearing a hood. He had snarled upon sensing her and leapt, clawing her chest before biting her shoulder. The girl had been too frightened to defend herself for a few brief moments; she was used to seeing the regular people who were always screaming and running in huge groups… not loners who scurried like insects along rooftops and pounced like stalking cats. But once the fear had passed, the man had been messily decapitated with a single strike from her left hand; and sent flying across the street. Her shoulder had burned painfully for a few days, then abruptly stopped. She remembered to keep clear of the people who jumped and bit; it was difficult, as they seemed to sense something was wrong with her scent, and that she was not quite like them. Brushing her pale hair out of her eyes with a careful move with the back of her hand, she saw sparkling waves of blue that lay just beyond an expanse of brownish powder that was rough and made her feet sink into it uncomfortably. Growling at the substance, she moved off of it and circled the area trying to find a decent means of avoiding it…no luck. The gritty stuff was everywhere. Huffing in frustration, the girl gave up her trek to the pleasant smelling water that made such soothing sounds, and wandered off in another direction, walking street after street. The smell of burning rubber, oil, and melting metal stung her nose painfully, well before she saw the source. She brought her hands to her face, cupping them around her nose and mouth in a vain attempt at blocking the stench. The smell came from a burning car; or rather the frame of it. Most of the vehicle had long since been transformed into fuel for the fire. It lay across the wide neighborhood street, blocking access for rescue that would never come. A modest house painted a dark blue with a browning lawn sat right in front of the inferno; mailbox bent and the door torn off the hinges. Another vehicle, overturned in the driveway, appeared to have been tossed; as its top was crushed from the impact. A sudden familiarity struck the girl as she gazed at the neighborhood wreck of a home with solemn eyes. Bits of memory flickered around her head. She knows she had called this place 'home' a while ago…knows that there had been kind, loving people who had dwelt there with her, but their names escape her even though she remembers their calming faces. Her name had been Karen once, but that memory does not surface. All she remembers is waking up so far from 'home', far from the kind people there, far from this place…and surrounded by danger and fear. She remembers being attacked by many, many angry people…by the horrid, leaping and screeching monsters that bit her; and being chased by a truly terrifying, hulking, roaring monster. But she had survived all that, and was now 'home' again. The faces of the loving people appeared in her mind's eye: a man and a woman, smiling warmly at her, hugging her close. Karen, who is suddenly filled with odd happy feelings and wanting to see those people again, races into the house smiling with joy. But there is a cold stillness that contrasts with the warmth outside. A dull musk hangs in the air, and she stops in her tracks. It is the smell of death. Her breath caught in her throat, and she choked back a sob. Two corpses lay haphazardly on the living room floor. Stains and smears of blood seemed to plaster everything. Tables were overturned; their contents spilled across the dirty carpet. She stood there, staring at the scene, mouth open; breath soft and disbelieving. Instinctively, she knew that these bodies had been those loving people…the word 'family' came to her mind. Why that single word held so much sudden painful significance frightened her, and tears began to trickle down her face; a loud, eerie and horribly mournful sob escaped her. Family…now dead and gone. Home…no more…nothing. Karen's thoughts, though chopped and rough, were still coherent; but she remained unaware of this fact. Vicious growling and snarling snapped her out of her sorrow. Tensing, Karen furiously looked about the dim room; she recognized those sounds. Fear penetrated at a dizzying speed and she took off, sprinting through the ruins of the doorway and back out into the street; heart pounding painfully, it seemed match the rhythm of her anxious strides and desperate breathing. She would not slow her breakneck pace until she was halfway across the city. Sadness was temporarily forgotten completely; replaced by a screaming survival instinct that burned within her like a raging wildfire. And something else flickered beneath that. Something that had surfaced when Karen saw the corpses of her parents torn by claws and teeth, and heard the savage sounds of a lone one crouched nearby ready to spring. Anger…and an intense want to rend that lone one into many, many, shredded pieces…feelings that would serve her quite well in the coming future.

-Fin-

Author's note: This story has been floating in my head for a while, and I'm glad I finally translated it into writing. Hope you enjoyed. Now to start (hopefully) on my other projects. I send a thousand curses onto whomever invented writers block…grrrrrrr.