Crimson eyes, A desire, a left 4 dead fanfic

Crimson Eyes, A desire.

Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead.

For all of the people who have been following my story, The Misadventures of a Curious Hunter, I finally got around to writing a back story tale! Finally! For anyone who just randomly clicked on this, If you read it through and enjoyed it, please check out the story that this is a part of.

The stillness of the city was unsettling as a Hunter roamed about on the rooftops and watched the helicopter fly by. He watched as the helicopter blared out some kind of urgent message before flying higher as nearby Hunters leaped at it. He sighed to himself as he watched the Hunters jump at the fleeing helicopter and plummet off the rooftop. Dropping to all fours, he crawled off the roof and entered the street below.

It had been several days since the last survivor came through the city and the infected were becoming hostile towards one another. Already he had killed three of the tongue users and one of his own kind. Even though the infected shared a sort of mutual neutrality with each other, it didn't stop a few of the more aggressive ones from pushing their limits. Above anything else, he just wanted to sleep while they were busy trying to kill each other; he wasn't really active in the early mornings.

Yawning to himself, he crossed the street and entered a building. All of the buildings had been ransacked by passing survivors and were easy to enter simply by stepping over some broken glass. Stepping into the building, a cleared out store of odds and ends, he sat on the floor and looked at one of the larger broken mirror shards that were lying on the floor. His blue eyes stared back at him and he blinked. Before, when he had first saw his reflection, he mistook it for another Hunter and broke the mirror. Since then, he now knew it was himself that he was staring at.

Leaving the broken shards behind him, he walked into another room. The earliest thing he could remember was being in that room with intense pain in his hands and legs. It hurt far too much to move at times and he often went several nights hungry and unable to eat anything. After the pain had become more bearable, he had left the room and discovered the mirror as well as a few other things.

One of the things he discovered was the new scents in the air. Some that smelled familiar, some that weren't. Curling up on a pile of discarded clothes that had been knocked to the floor, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep while the other infected scurried about outside, eagerly rushing nowhere.

When he opened his eyes again, the dark, cloudy, gray sky had gotten darker, meaning it was nighttime. Perfect for him. Stretching, he exited the building and stared up at the sky. He could smell the moisture in the air, meaning that it would rain soon. Knowing this, he decided to find a large enough meal so that his stomach wouldn't send him out in the middle of a downpour. Unlike the other infected, he found the things they ate repulsive, and often raided grocery stores, searching for something more appetizing.

Walking past the once fresh fruit, he rounded the corner to the canned goods. Those cans had baffled him at first, but no more. The only thing that still confused him were the contents of the cans sometimes. Often they held tasty sauces, one time it held a very sweet liquid. Opening it with his claws, he licked at the opaque liquid covering his fingers and drank the liquid in the can. Once the can was finished, he tossed it aside and opened another one, also holding the sweet liquid.

After finishing off another can, he reached for one of a different color, hoping for one of the tasty sauces. As his claws punctured through the can, thick red liquid spilled over his hand and he lapped at it. Ripping the can open, he helped himself to the thick, meaty sauce inside. After that can was empty, he left that area and went to the area where raw meat was stored. Several of the meats were starting to turn bad and become inedible, but he simply ripped away the foul-smelling parts and ate the rest.

Now that his hunger had been settled for the next few days, it was time to go satisfy his other hunger. Going outside, he leaped from the ground to the roof with ease and surveyed his surroundings. Several fat infected were nearby as well as a few of the tongue users. Decent prey, but hardly worth the trouble. Lifting his head, he sniffed the air and caught the scent of one of his own. Excellent. Leaping off the building, he let out a warning screech to give his target a fair chance to fight back. His target whirled around to face him and screeched helplessly when he sunk his claws into its throat, silencing it forever.

Looking at the blood on his claws, he licked them and spat the blood out of his mouth. If anything, he would rather not want to taste the remnants of his latest kill while eating actual food. Continuing to lick his hands clean, his nose twitched when he picked up the scent of a plant. Similar to the blooming plants back at the grocery store, the smell was sweet and alluring. Following the scent, froze in the doorway of a building as three survivors, two men and one woman, made eye contact with him and opened fire on him with their guns.

Rolling away from the flying objects, he ducked out of sight as the group spoke. One of the males, the younger one by appearance, took his cigarette out of his mouth and stared at the wall where the Hunter had just been. "I tell you, when my superior officer told me to escort you scientists through the city to study infected, I seriously though about receiving a court martial for what I wanted to do to him." The other older man chuckled. "Can't be helped, he is a bit of a greenhorn at this. Doesn't help that we lost one of the scientists to that Tank back there though. Damn things move faster than I thought. We just gotta get to the pick up point and get out of here while we still can."

"It can't be helped that you two are utterly incompetent in your protection." stated the woman, matter-of-factly. "The mere fact that neither off you were sufficient enough to protect the other scientist proves that the two of you weren't properly trained and need to go back for retraining." The Hunter could hear the groans from the two men as they argued with their female companion. "Look, it's not our fault that the Tank overwhelmed her; we had our hands full with getting that Hunter off of you!" snapped the older man. "If you're going to bitch about the quality of our help, you can go about your studies of the infected out here on your own! We may have orders to keep you safe, but I'll take a dishonorable discharge from the military over you any day!"

The woman huffed and left the area as the Hunter lifted his eyebrows. They seemed to have very poor teamwork and were bound to be killed within days at least. Still, he was curious about them, it wasn't often that non infected came by. However he knew he had to be careful and avoid the sight of the two males with weapons. He didn't like the female though, every instinct he possessed said that the female would ultimately be the death of many others, and he didn't like it.

The group left the area in a barrage of gunshots and made their way down the street while shooting other infected. He felt pity for all of the brothers and sisters caught on the wrong end of those lethal weapons, but made no effort to enact any kind of revenge. Waiting until the group were out of sight, he continued on his way and leaped to the rooftops. Sniffing the air, he caught the scent of the group and ignored it, they weren't his problem.

One day later, as he was fighting off a group of his own kind that had banded together in a feeble attempt to defeat him, he spotted the group running through the area, avoiding all the cars as a Tank chased them. He knew from experience as a Hunter that it was wiser to get out of the area as quickly as possible, but in extreme cases then there would be no option but to fight. The group had decreased and increased in number, being that the older man was no longer with them, but there was another man with the group who wasn't dressed the same way they were.

He couldn't quite put his claw on it, but the new man was different from the group. The new man was being dragged by the younger man and all three were running from the Tank and tried to take shelter in the nearby building. As he pulled the last of the Hunters off of him, he watched as the Tank entered the building and chased after the group. Leaving them to their own devices, he covered his nose as a powerful odor hit it.

The odor belonged to the vomit of a Boomer, calling all the local infected to come rushing into the building after the Tank. Several gunshots could be heard and eventually the roar of the infected died down and they wandered away vacantly. The Hunter contemplated entering the building where the Tank had gone in but stopped when a familiar scent wafted next to his nose. The scent of death, the loss of life. One of the group must have died in there during the attack. Rather than enter the building and see what he could scrounge up in terms of leftovers, he gave the man some pity and left the area.

A few days later, he saw the helicopter take off from the roof of a building. It seemed that every non infected that came through his territory was bent on reaching that building. It must lead to someplace. Leaving that nagging thought at the back of his mind, he focused on finding a meal. The last two searches had been unsuccessful and now he was starting to feel the hunger pangs. Sighing, he crawled into an abandoned restaurant and poked around.

Several objects were cluttered on the floor in a jumbled disarray as he stepped around them. His nose twitched as he approached a large container. Lifting up the lid of the container he was delighted to find that it was full of the sauce that he had found a few days before. Eagerly devouring the meaty sauce, he licked the sides of the container and continued to feast.

His joy was short lived as he found that he had gotten stuck in the container. He had stuck his head in too far and the pot was now firmly attached to his shoulders. Screeching in frustration, he tried to rip the pot off of his head and rolled around on the floor. After a few moments, he heard laughing and ripped off the pot in rage. A man wearing a vest was laughing at him as the sauce dripped down his face.

Enraged, he leaped at the man and crashed through the wall as the man moved and left the area. Growling, he pulled his head from the concrete and raced after the man. Normally he would have left the man alone, but him laughing at his misfortune was unacceptable. He stopped as he reached the street and saw that the man had companions and they were running from a Tank.

Watching them flee, he waited for them to try and split up like the previous group.

The split never came, the group stayed together and ran from the Tank, still firing. They reached an alleyway and helped each other up as the Tank failed to catch them. He watched and then listened as they entered the building through the rooftop and followed them. This was certainly more entertaining that watching the other group.

Maybe he'll get to have some fun while watching this group.

And that's Ark's back story. It took me a few minutes to collect my thoughts and another hour to get this all down. I hope you enjoy it, I had fun writing it. Ciao!