Disclaimer: I don't own Left 4 Dead.
Warning: Gore, a little bit of femmeslash, death
I took this from my old account - Zero Skye - and moved it here because I like it. Please leave a review! :)
Zoey never understood the Witch.
The other infected she could take a guess with. They were emotionless, dead on the inside an animal on the outside. They attacked for fun, killed for fun, for food, for whatever they wanted. And they could get away with it.
They attacked for no reason, but the Witch, she was so different.
When she first heard about the Witch and how easily she could kill someone she pictured a woman, ruthless, cunning. Something that you didn't see coming and you would die trying to fight.
But when she actually saw the Witch for the first time, it was different from the image in her mind. She was smaller than she thought she would be, frail looking almost, just wearing underwear. She never attacked her when she walked past her, unlike other infected who would attack just be being looked at. She saw other people, even infected taunt it for fun, for a fight.
And she cried. She never heard such sadness before in her life. She didn't understand why she cried, she didn't think she ever could. In this place Zoey didn't have time to cry, she was busy staying alive, so she couldn't understand what made the Witch so sad.
Then she ran into other people out there, normal people. Like her. They had guns, and names. Louis, Francis, and Bill, she grew to like them. They were her family now, what she had left. She would die to protect them, and they would do the same for her.
Which is what ended up happening.
Louis was choked to near death by a Smoker on the way to Mercy, until the infected snapped his neck and ended it. She tried, dear God did she try. But a car alarm went off and they were everywhere. Climbing out of windows, jumping from buildings, they just appeared out of nowhere. She couldn't reload her gun fast enough. She shot a few times at the Smoker. She screamed, and screamed at the other two to save him. Bill finally took out the Smoker but by then Louis' body was already dumped on the ground.
She didn't cry, she couldn't. They didn't have time for it they had to get to a safe room right now. She said a few words and hoped he rested in peace, but she had a sinking feeling that he would soon become an infected like the rest. Even if they were somehow immune while alive, and even if he was dead, she still had a feeling he could come back to life as one of those things.
She only got a few hours rest that night before waking up in a cold sweat, the rest of the time was spent watching Bill and Francis sleep. She wanted to hate them for it, why should she be the only one to lose sleep over Louis' death? But she couldn't since they did more work than she did. Her arm's where sore from punching when she was reloading, her leg's where sore from running. And deep down she hated herself because she wanted to stop this right now, just right this second and kill herself but she didn't.
She couldn't. Not with the look's Bill and Francis gave her, with hope and maybe even love. They were each other's only life line's and if she killed herself she would take away one more thing that was keeping them going. She told herself she wouldn't let these two die.
The next day was better, she pushed any thought of Louis toward the back for her mind and she just shot everything in sight. If it twitched she shot at it. She missed a lot, but she was getting better at it. Sometimes Bill would tell her she had a nice shot, even Francis sometimes. Those where her small moments of happiness.
They stuck together, going through everything. Every time she killed a Smoker she felt like she was giving pay back for what they did to Louis. She thought the other two felt the same way because they made sure to shoot the bodies a few more times, to be sure they were dead.
She felt safe then, like they would get out of this alive and well. She should have known better.
While going through the empty subway's a Boomer came out of nowhere and hurled on them. Before this whole infected thing happened she would have screamed in disgust. Now she would snarl at the fat infected all while trying to see how many bullet's she can shoot in him before he blew up. Then, oh then, the hoard came. From all sides, it was a tight fit to since it was in the middle of the tracks.
She was pushed between a heavy table and a broken subway train. She was almost getting dizzy from going around in circles to shoot all of the infected.
She was thankful that other people where kind enough to leave bullets and guns behind for others to use. Sometimes she can't help but think that they weren't left behind, that the owner's before just died and became what they aimed to kill. That they had a plan, like them and it didn't go through. The thought sent shivers down her spine.
It went on forever it seemed, fighting the hoard, with what was left of their ammo they killed the rest and let their bodies fall to the floor without giving them a second glance. They all stopped and stared at each other and she left out a breathe she didn't even know she was holding in and she let herself relax. That's when it happened a loud snarl and they couldn't get to the ammo pile fast enough.
Within seconds a Hunter came out of nowhere and pounced on Bill. He hit the side of the tracks with a loud crack that made her cry out as she tried to reload her gun as fast as she could and Francis shoved the thing off of him. She shot the Hunter, once, twice, every bullet in her gun was now inside of the now dead Hunter.
Bill died within seconds. His spine broken and his insides ripped out by that thing. She just stood there, she didn't know what happened next all she remembered was Francis taking her gun and switching it with something else. A sub machine gun, and reloading it for her and putting it back in her hands. He took her hand within his own and just dragged her away the whole time muttering how he didn't actually hate Bill and that he was going to miss him. She wanted to cry to go back and shake the older man just to make sure he wasn't dead.
But she couldn't, not with Francis holding her hand like it was the only thing left in the world. And she didn't know who made the first move but all she knew next was that they were holding each other in the middle of a subway filled with dead being's. She could have sworn she felt her neck get wet from tears but she would never hold that against Francis, not in a million years.
They made it to the safe room just in time, as another hoard spotted them and started to run up to them. They stayed in the safe room for hours, until the infected stopped banging on the door and left one by one, bored. The fell asleep in each other's arms, the only comfort they could have at the time.
When they woke up they moved fast, taking as many guns and first aid as they could and they hit the sewer's. They shot everything and didn't say a word to each other in fear of having infected notice them. They were home free, almost. The latter was in sight then the ground shook. They both looked around in fear knowing what was going to show up, a Tank.
Francis gave her a look and before she could do anything he was shoving her up the tiny latter that couldn't fit two people at a time. And she was crying so badly because she knew what he was doing. He hauled himself up to her level, and she could see that he was trying not to fall down and he kissed her with everything he had. And she kissed back. He told her that he loved her, and she said it back. And the look on his face was pure happiness that even if she was to get out of this place alive and lived for a few more years she would remember this and think that they really did love each other.
He shoved a pipe bomb in her hand and took his first aid off and attached it to her back, she climbed up the latter with such force and emotion that her arms where shaking. And she looked down just in time to see the Tank come around the corner and to see Francis shoot at it with his shotgun. She watched as the Tank shoved him into a wall, with a loud crack and beat him to death right then and there. She didn't think she could ever hate something as much as she could in her life then how she hated the Tank.
She pushed the man hole cover off and climbed out, screaming as loud as she can before starting the pipe bomb and throwing it down into the sewer. Infected followed the loud beeping sound and bright light, and she threw another one, and another one. And they went off one by one and she took her sub machine gun out and shot everything in her path because she couldn't even see because of the tears.
She ran, and ran. Into Mercy, punching everything in her way, hitting it with the blunt of her weapon or just shooting everything. She ran up stair's, down hall's, not caring where she was going, not caring if it was dark. She shoved door's open with such force that a few times she heard crack's from infect getting hurt from it but she never went back to check, never went back to see if it was in fact an infected. She was never looking back.
Only when her leg's where so weak that she couldn't stand did she fall. In a small room, for check up's, with a large window. She was pretty sure there was an infected in the room with her but for some reason as she ran in, it fled. She looked outside, it was dark, raining. And in the room across from her she heard sobbing. A Witch.
She wasn't sure why but she just broke. She threw her gun across the small room and screamed, not caring if the Witch came in and killed her. She screamed again, and again until all she could do as cry loudly and sit there on the floor looking down and just not feeling anything anymore and yet feeling everything she bottled up the past few days.
She cried and she cried, she didn't know how long she sat there. All she remembered was taking off her sweat shirt after a while because it was so hot and she wanted to be cold. She felt her stomach lurch in pain whenever she stopped crying long enough to notice. But then she would go back and ignore it. Sometimes she would just sit there, in pain, or sit there feeling nothing listening to the Witch's sobs.
She wondered if the other woman ever did the same and never stopped to wonder when she started to think of the Witch as another woman instead of an infected like the rest of those freaks.
One day the Witch screamed, an infected thought that they could take her on. She didn't watch the fight but she heard it, the cries of the Witch turned into snarls and growls, and the groans of whatever infected was stupid enough to try to fight her. She heard the Witch get up and attack the infected, she heard the ripping of flesh and she wasn't sickened by it. In fact she felt smug; the bastard got what was coming to him.
It was quiet after that, though she could have sworn she heard a few infected leave the area. She thought she would hear the Witch go back to her room across the hall but that didn't happen. Instead she came into the room she was sitting at.
The Witch stood there, staring at her with red eyes with heavy bags under them. And for a second she wondered if she looked like that. Where her eyes red from crying so much? Did she have bags from lack of sleep? Was she that skinny from not eating?
As if on cue her stomach gave a sharp pain and she felt something sit in her throat and she cried once more. This time out of physical pain. And the Witch sat down, not to close though. No she sat a good few feet away in her own little corner. And they both cried. She didn't know what the Witch was crying about but she knew what she was crying about.
The pain in her stomach, the pain in her head from not sleeping. She couldn't sleep what if something tried to kill her? Louis, Bill, and Francis, oh god Francis. Her family back home, and her friends. She cried about everything and the Witch cried too.
Time went by, she wasn't sure how much. But all she knew was that she changed. She didn't want to leave this place and didn't want to do anything but cry. And when an infected male came by their room standing in the door way she didn't know what to do. The Witch looked up and gave a low growl and the infected backed off before staring at her and taking a step forward.
She growled at it. Actually fucking growled. She wasn't in the mood to play with these infected; she wanted to be left alone. It still stood there, staring, watching her. It took a step forward and suddenly she remembered everything these bastards did to her. To Louis, Bill, and Francis. And all that anger just built up and before she knew it she stood and the infected stumbled back but that just made her more pissed.
She knew the Witch was watching, she felt it but at the moment she didn't care. She tackled the infected and attacked it. Her gun was still in the same spot where she threw it so all she had was her hands. She punched, slapped, and beat the crap out of him. Then she had torn him open. If she was still sane she would have stopped what she was doing and looked at her hands in horror but she didn't. Infected had soft flesh that was easy to rip and tear open. To shred to bit's and to smear all over the floor.
And that's what she did. Until her hands where red and she suddenly felt hungry but she didn't know what to do. She looked at the Witch as if she was asking for help then the Witch came forward before dipping her hands into the fresh kill she just made and taking some of the flesh she just shredded, and smeared, and held it to her mouth and ate it.
She wanted to be sick, she wanted to throw up but there was just nothing in her to throw up. She felt hungry, like she could eat anything and she did. Copying the Witch she reached inside the corpse and ripped out a chunk of meat and ate it. It was salty and bitter, and shockingly warm, and she loved it. And suddenly she felt like she hadn't eaten in years and that this dead infected was the best food on earth and she ate, and ate and the Witch ate some too before they stood and went back to their room to go back to crying.
And it happened again, and again, and again. She didn't know why infected kept trying to come over here by her and the Witch but every time it got to close she or the Witch would growl and if it didn't back up they killed and ate.
She guessed she wasn't as immune as she thought because sometimes she could hear things that where a few floor's down and suddenly bright lights hurt her eyes so badly that she would hiss at the window. And her fingers grew as well, into longer sharper fingers that could be mistaken for claws. And her hands where stained red from all the blood. Nothing could ever get that red out.
Then one day she heard a voice, an actual voice! Of a human, not an infected. She wondered if they would help her leave this place. And she couldn't help but cry tears of joy, she looked at the Witch as if it was a way of telling the other woman that they were saved and the Witch gave her this look. She didn't know what it meant but when she heard heavy footstep's coming this way she felt happy.
A human female walked in front of their door, a bright flashlight in her hand she hissed. Bright light hurt her eyes, didn't that woman know? Didn't she have common sense? Hearing the hiss the woman turned around and flashed the light on them then screamed.
She placed her hand over her ears for a second before standing, along with the Witch. The woman was crying how there couldn't be two Witches in one spot and she suddenly felt sad at being called a Witch. And it hit her how the other Witch felt. The flashlight fell to the ground flooding the floor with bright light as the woman ran off. In the distance there was a scream from a Hunter before the woman's painful screams filled the air before it became quiet once more.
She kicked the flashlight out of the room and it rolled down the hall. No doubts to be taken by an infected to be played with or to have the batteries slowly die.
She looked around the room and spotted herself in the reflection of the window, she looked just like the Witch in front of her, but with brown hair and pants. She took a look at the Witch before she took her own pants off, that where a darker color then before and she never remembered using the bathroom so how could that be, to match the Witch. The Witch seemed a bit pleased at that and she tried to talk.
But she couldn't. Her hands went to her throat and the other Witch looked at her with slight shock and a bit of sadness. But Zoey wasn't going to let that stop her, instead she growled making the Witch jump. Then she growled some more, and more, until she could do a nice normal, happy growl and she looked the Witch in her red eyes and growled that happy growl at her.
The Witch mewed and she felt herself smiling. They weren't alone anymore. They had each other now. And the Witch leaned forward and took one of her clawed hands with her own and suddenly she felt a cold body press up against her's. And she didn't know why but it just felt right, like this was how it should be. And she felt the Witch's lip's, dry, cold, and covered with blood and she suddenly never wanted anything better.
And at that moment Zoey understood the Witch.