(This is my first creepypasta, so please be constructive with criticism.)
I am a huge fan of horror games. Zombie shooters to be exact. I've always loved watching them explode into nothing but bloodied bits. Well... I used to... You see, it was about a year ago. I had just gotten left 4 dead 2 for the Xbox 360. I had so much fun with it the first few weeks. My little brother hated zombie games and always left the room when I played. He would cry to our parents and make me turn it off. I used to make fun of him for being such a girl and crying when I put it on. Even the valve logo freaked him out.
Well, one day I got home from high school, my little brother was in elementary school, so I got home first. I happily popped in my left 4 dead game and started it up. I was going to my friend's birthday later that day, so I wanted to play all I could beforehand. I got up to go to the bathroom around the time he got home. When I came back in... It was so weird... My little brother... Was playing left 4 dead. I was furious to see him playing as Coach. My favorite character and playing my favorite game he forced me off multiple times.
I scolded him for not only playing my game, but for lying to our parents. I got no response from him. I slapped him and stomped out as my friend was here to pick me up. I had been yelling at him for an hour. When I was at my friend's party, I felt bad for my little brother. Maybe he had just been trying to face his fears, so I would stop mocking him. I called the house to apologize, but no one picked up. I wasn't surprised, since my mom was working and my dad had taken my sister to cheer leading practice. I never really called home so he wouldn't know my phone number; he was only nine so he wasn't supposed to answer the phone unless he knew the number.
I asked my friend if she could take me back, my big sister instinct was telling me something was wrong, it seemingly had no reason to... But it did. Thankfully my friend agreed after I bribed her with twenty dollars. She raced me home, seeing I was worried for my little brother... When I got home, I ran in. I saw my brother, and broke down sobbing. My friend came in and gasped with horror as she saw him on the ground. He was dead. He had seemingly had a heart attack. The game was on. My game was on. Left 4 dead 2. It was the title screen. I didn't notice it though, I was too busy morning my brother. I ran to him and held his body tightly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please! I love you! Please! Come back!" I was too hysterical to think. My friend called my parents and told them what we found. Needless to say they rushed home. My mom, dad and sister cried with me. My friend called the police, so they could investigate. There was no sign of forced entry and his death was ruled as accidental. I wouldn't accept it. It was my fault! It was my game! It was my baby brother! I begged them to arrest me, I didn't care for the reasoning, but they simply ignored me as being heartbroken and wanting someone to blame, even if it was myself.
A week later we had his funeral. I still felt at fault. After we drove home. I wanted to see why. What caused it? I put left 4 dead in and started playing. I was then that I noticed weird things. The writing on the walls was my name and other things. I stopped to read one. It said "I wanted to make you stop. It hurt when you mocked me. It hurt when you slapped me. I wanted your respect and now I'm dead." It was written in blood on the walls with the normal things. I hear what sounded like a boomer behind my character, Coach. I turned around and cried seeing a model that looked like my pudgy little brother. I repeated "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You don't know how much I wish I could take your place!" I loved my brother, but something happened to him. His eyes turned from brown to black, completely black. No white either. He began moving closer to Coach in what looked like a very painful fashion. His legs broke more every step he took. I could hear the nauseating crunching, it sounded so real. I almost vomited. I couldn't look away from him though. I knew it was my fault. I didn't put up a fight and watched him kill Coach. He then looked at me and words started to appear on a wall. "I forgive-" There was a sudden power outage and the game shut off before it finished. I cried, knowing it was my fault. I spiraled into a deep depression. My parents had to send me to a mental hospital. I was allowed to come home after a couple months. When I got home my parents had sold the Xbox360. And left 4 dead 2. I didn't tell them what I had seen. I didn't want to go back to the hospital. I quietly went to my room and cried. I had a picture of him on my vanity. It was only a week later; I looked through the news paper for a job. It was then I saw it, in the obituaries. Several kids had died from heart attacks after purchasing a copy of left 4 dead 2. They also had strange bite marks; there was a picture of one. I had a scar on my arm just like it. From when his bit me so hard I bled. My baby brother. That game had corrupted him; he became what he feared most, a zombie that hurts and kills others without remorse.