Not So Different
A/N: I was inspired by FrostxBite's epic tale to write this here story, and there aren't too many WitchxSurvivor stories.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Left 4 Dead series, or any of the four survivors found in said game. I do own Alex Lancaster.
You never expect something like this to happen in your lifetime, until you go through it first hand, you can't understand what it's like. A few weeks ago, Alexander Lancaster was a nobody, a nothing, another statistic in a CDC research lab. A blissful dream, a faint memory of a former life, an attempt to conceal the Hell that has shown it's gruesome face to him. He shakes himself out of the stupor, being on the run for hours took a toll on him, both physically and mentally. He knew that's exactly what the Infected want, weak prey is the easiest to hunt. He wipe the sleep from his eyes and mentally slapped himself in the face to keep his wits about him. He clutched the FN SCAR-L like a drowning man to a life preserver, a fitting analogy, considering the situation of the world. The New York sun seared down onto his pale skin, and he raised a hand to prevent it's rays from distracting him. The fetid stench of the bodies littering the streets being baked only served to distract him further. Regardless, He proceed with the task at hand, searching for a safe place to stay for the night, and whatever scraps of food to feed himself. He vaults over the edge of the husk of the building that had served as my home the previous night, landing on the pavement with a barely audible thump. He kept the sight of my rifle up as walked into a gas station, eyes and ears completely powered on adrenalin, he feel like a coiled spring, ready to unleash sixty rounds of hell into anything that dared to violate his quest. He let a sigh of relief escape his lips, nothing had decided to ruin his day yet, for a full twenty minutes. He wagered that those twenty minutes would be the longest respite he could indulge in all day. He ransacked whatever hadn't already been taken, high cuisine compared to what he had been eating before, he managed to salvage several cans of beans and fruit, even a instant meal, along with various drinks. He was about to jam his new found treasure into his backpack when he noticed the cashier of the station, lying over the counter, on his own dried blood. Alex flipped the corpse over, and instead of the telltales signs of an Infected attack, the man bore five, neat bullet holes in his chest. Alex closed the man's eyes and laid him on the ground, giving him at least a sliver of respect in death. Alex pondered, perhaps the Infected abominations weren't the most dangerous creatures walking the Earth. Distant howls shook him from his thoughts. He waited several minutes, and just as he suspected, the thunder of feet erupted. He threw the bag over his shoulder and high-tailed as far away from the station as possible
He stopped at an alleyway to catch his breath, which could arguably the worst decision of the day. A roar emerged from the alleyway. A Tank barreled down the alleyway, he shouted a curse as he dove to the side, his FN SCAR-L roared to life, bucking his arms as the rifle spat out searing 5.56 bullets, rending through the creature's flesh. Alex fumbled with the clip of explosive ammunition as he loaded it into the rifle, the Tank was in the process of regaining it's senses, before Alex continued his onslaught, shouting as he unloaded another full clip of ammunition into the lumbering golem's back. The bullets making sick,wet smacks, before it collapsed, unable to continue it's hunt in shame. Alex breathed heavily, and looked upon the Tank in victory, basking for a moment in his short lived triumph, he continued his escape from the insatiable horde.
Alex managed to finally catch his breath in a clear alleyway. Alex leaned against the wall, smirking in victory as his breathing stabilized. He was about to use the alley as a shortcut before he caught a sight that made his blood run ice-cold, he looked down at his rifle's flashlight, it was on, and what the white halo was surrounding. Those two thoughts froze him solid with pure fear, the formerly crying figure's crimson eyes locked onto his own deep green eyes, confirming his fear. His life flashed before his eyes, and waited for his flesh to be rent into pieces, eyes closed, ready for the inevitable. To his surprise, it did not come. He slightly opened his eyes, the Witch's eyes remained locked onto his own, almost like a deer caught in a car's head lights. He opened his eyes fully, and very slowly, he reached to his flashlight's on/off button. This allowed him a good look at the Infected girl, her crimson orbs were rimmed by black, her silver hair draped messily over them, she was dreadfully thin, a portion of her rib cage was visible, a large chunk of her shoulder was missing, teeth marks replacing it. He managed a nervous smile and a chuckle, this was definitely odd, if this was any other Witch, he would have been sprawled on the ground, screaming hysterically as he was viscerally torn to pieces. The Witch stood up, causing Alex to whip the rifle back up to his shoulder, which seemed to scare her, like a child, she cowered away from him with a whimper. Alex scratched the back of his head in confusion. His time researching the HF2N Virus, or more commonly known as the "Green Flu" was painfully limited before he had to apply his research.
"I've never knew that they were even capable of fear or mercy" Alex thought. Maybe this one was different. He slowly reached a hand towards the Witch, the Witch tentatively reached a claw to him, carefully gripping his forearm, as if she was focusing on not drawing blood.
"H-hey, it's alright, no one's gonna hurt you, you're safe" Alex chided, he wrapped a hand around her emaciated forearm. Her skin was almost as white as the bone underneath. He gingerly pulled the Infected girl to her feet. She did something else Alex wasn't expecting, she pulled him close to her body, clinging onto him as if he had just saved her from certain death. He didn't know how to react, he awkwardly returned the gesture of affection, the Witch's head on his shoulder, he felt a sharp inhale of air, which he interpreted as a gasp.
"Son, you've got a Witch on you" A middle aged, grizzled man said, working the words over in his mind, the sentence simply sounded bizarre to him. Alex released the Witch, the old man, the same look of paralyzing fear on her face as when Alex found her.
"No, wait, wait, wait! She's...different!"
A/N: So? How'd you like it? The next chapter should be going up soonish.
Cheers, mates!