Title: Invisible Torture
Author: Shadewolfy
Rating: Um, T I think
Genre: Horror & Adventure
Warning: Infected Humans and Torture from a Jockey
Disclaimer: Don't own L4D2 (This is based on L4D2)
Summary: You can hear it now; its infernal giggling that never seemed to stop.
xXxXx
It has been three days since Hell emerged, rotting and hungry, from the grounds and we were still within your town.
We had to stop a lot since you at least needed to see if anyone was alive.
That hope was crushed the minute we came across the massacre need the center of the town. Apparently while we had been searching they had made their last stand.
It didn't work.
When we left that horrible sight behind it felt oddly like we were being followed, although it was unlikely that it was anything left alive in this town.
Not enraged alive, that is.
It took us almost a day before we fully noticed our stalker.
Soft noises flitted around us, never lasting long enough for us to hear them properly, clearly, to understand them.
When we finally hear and understood them, you almost screamed.
It was giggling, the kind you would expect to hear around children or, dare I think, insane asylums.
It felt like torture, never knowing where it came from. At least the Hunter warned us and everything around us when it was going to jump.
We can hear it again now; its infernal giggling that never seemed to stop.
The only real problem was that the creature seemed to have an uncanny act for finding places where its giggles would not give up its position. Where its giggles would bounce off of the environment and envelop its victim in fear.
It was working.
It was working quite well by the look on your face.
I can only imagine what mine must look like.
When it finally screamed and came for us it was almost a relief. With a frontal attack we could deal with. What it had been doing had been breaking us.
From around the corner came one of the Specials, a smaller creature hunched over and running on all fours.
The small creature avoided our shots and jumped at me.
I screamed when the thing latched on my shoulder, clambering onto my back.
The thing wrapped long, dry arms around my neck, burrowing its claws into my throat and started yanking me sideways.
Blood ran down from the punctures on my neck, the thing giggling in pleasure on my back.
"Get it off," I scream.
There was a bang and with a splatter the thing on my head was gone.
Through my bloody hair I glance to you, my hero holding the smoking gun.
"That was a good shot," I whisper.
You nod.
xXxXx
Here's the second story in my Horror Series, Jockey.
Up next?
Smoker.
Tell me if you find any problems, my beta is gone.
Peace.
Out.
xXxXx
