Title: Horribly Tangled Up

Author: Shadewolfy

Rating: Um, T I think

Genre: Horror & Adventure

Warning: A Horde of Commons and Something Slimy.

Disclaimer: Don't own L4D2 (This is based on L4D2)

Summary: And it was in that moment of silence that a long slimy pink thing wrapped around you, tightening on your airways.

xXxXx

Our day began as every other day in a zombie apocalypse. Get up, shoot (or hit them over the head with a frying pan) the commons outside, try and avoid the hunter that had camped up near out safe house.

As we left, heading North, just ambling North with no clear destination in sight, we were caught unaware.

And as everyone knows, that's never a good thing in any apocalypse, especially where the zombies are fast little fucks.

As we were swarmed by the commons we got separated in the mix of blood and gore.

And as you fought your way back to the relative security of my presence, everything seemed to go silent for you.

Even though you were surrounded by snarling zombies and it seemed like things couldn't get any worse, something whispered in your mind, just a shadow of a touch. It was going to get worse.

And it was in that moment of silence that a long slimy pink thing wrapped around you, tightening on your airways, literally yanking your scream away from you.

Two things happened.

I kept fighting.

The thing tightened and started dragging you away.

When the seconds passed and I noticed that noises that were supposed to be there wasn't any more, I glanced over to you.

Only to panic.

You were currently a block away, still being dragged by something that stretched up to the house on the end of the street.

As I sprinted after you I cursed our lack of direction, always seeming to get us into these kinds of situations.

When I finally reached your side you were running out of air, struggling for air and in desperate need of air.

So, pretty much just air.

With one vicious swipe of my gore stained machete the tongue thing severed. As the part wrapped around you loosened I grabbed the retreating end and held on tight. I wrapped the thing once over my arm and yanked hard.

With a yowl and a thud something covered in boils landed heavily on the harsh pavement and with a puff disappeared in a ball of green smoke.

I started pulling on the tongue, dragging the body out of the mist and too us. As I pulled it closer I bent down and pulled the part of the tongue wrapped around you off, helping you to your feet in the process.

You coughed lightly before helping me drag the body closer for inspection.

And there stands the two of us, staring down at the body of a man horribly deformed, boils and, oddly enough, tongue's everywhere.

xXxXx

And the Smoker is currently on display.

Next up is our own little spitfire.

Get it.

Peace.

Out.

xXxXx