Hidden Mantis: This is my second fanfic! Yay me!
My first one, Halo: Freeman Evolved ain't finished yet. So keep your pants up. I'll find the time. I hope.
Oh yeah. I graduated. Yay me again!
This one is loosely based on a vid I watched in Youtube. So don't go yelling "Hey, this is soooo un-original," and stuff. It's a fanfic. That's why it isn't original.
So, here it is.
Wrath of the Director
A dark office building was filled with un-earthly growls. The shouts were soon followed by gunshots ringing in the dark, hellish sky. The screaming eventually stopped soon after the last gunshot ended. Four people were desperately trying to find their way to the boat house somewhere in the little town of Riverside.
One of them was a Caucasian man, maybe in his 60's, who wore a tattered army uniform, maybe unused for several decades. He was limping his way towards his teammates. The second was another Caucasian, a biker, clad in a leather vest, biker gloves and jeans. His tattoos covered most of his forearms, but were now covered with lacerations. The third was a Black man in a red tie and white shirt. He could've been an office worker for any business. The last one was still a Caucasian, a young woman in a pink, blood-drenched sweater, jeans and chucks. She was holding her side, which was the source of the blood flow.
"Louis," said the old man. "I don't think Zoey and Francis can keep up."
"We'll just have to make do, Bill," replied the Black man. "I mean, we can't just leave them here!"
"You don't look so hot either, Bill," the biker said. "That last horde took a chunk out of 'ya. Probably broke your leg bones or sumthin'."
Francis tried to force out a laugh, but he winced from the pain in his arms.
"Heh. Tell that to the Hunter that pounced you," Bill retaliated.
"Guys! Sto-ARGH!" said Zoey as she tried to keep the peace, but she only succeeded in worsening her wound.
"You fellas oughtta know that Zoey's right," Louis said. "The team's in bad shape. Bill got beat, Francis got pounced and that Smoker tongue tore Zoey's side when it squeezed her. I don't know if we're all gonna last here with all this bickering."
Bill and Francis fell silent, ashamed that two grown men were fighting over nothing.
They walked toward the last room in the building. Peering out the windows, they saw their enemy in the streets below, the reason for this Hell on Earth, the Infected.
Ever since the Infection started two weeks ago, people were forced to live life like the stone-ages; foraging for food and surviving in the harsh environment of a city without electricity, running water and shelter. To make things worse, the Infected, people who were afflicted by a virus that devolved them back to the primordial instincts of killing to eat, and, worse yet, cannibalism.
The Infected were still technically human, not like their undead counterparts in movies, but they looked mutated; their mottled gray skin and blood-shot eyes distinguished them from their normal counterparts. Although they were "blessed" with increased strength, stamina and speed, they were constantly bombarded with diseases, probably because of their bad hygiene, or because of the virus.
The Infected were "attracted" – annoyed is a closer word – to high-frequency sounds. Low-frequency ones generally herd them in, but they run after higher-pitched sounds in an attempt to kill the source.
Louis felt a pang in his heart. He felt pity for the monsters below. Some of the Infected were vomiting their stomachs out and leaning on walls. They were sick people, but there was no cure. And when the Survivors blew their cover, it was kill or be killed.
Francis started the bombardment. He broke a window with the butt of his Remington shotgun. He, then, un-holstered his dual M1911 pistols and commenced shooting the zombies below. The other three soon followed his lead.
Zoey's Hunting Rifle made quick work of a Boomer (a bloated special Infected) below. Its bile and innards blew up, covering other Infected with its hormone-scented visceral mass. The other Infected, attracted to the bile, immediately started clawing and punching the slimed monsters.
Bill sprayed on the Infected below with his rusty modified M16A2 while Louis was on anti-flanking duty. Random zombies were running from behind, and he simply shot them down using his Uzi before they could even touch the survivors.
Minutes later, the Survivors' siege ended, leaving battered bodies strewn in the streets.
Louis was the first to get down, using the ledge on the side of the building as a large stairway. Francis was next, making sure his cuts stay closed. The two, then, assisted Bill and Zoey down.
There was a table in the middle of the road below. Luckily, on that table were some rifles that were better than their old, worn weapons, and a lone med kit.
"So how're we gonna split the kit this time?" asked Francis.
"I think we should give it to either Bill or Zoey," Louis replied. "They need it more than us."
"I think Bill should have it," Zoey said. "His leg looks bad."
"No, you should have it Zoe," said Bill. "That Smoker ripped you up real good. You need it more than this old war vet."
"I guess we're going to use the Coin," said Louis.
Francis reached inside his leather vest and extracted a rust-covered, but still shiny gold $1 coin.
"Heads for Bill and tails for Zoey?" asked Francis.
"Seems fair 'nuff," said Bill.
"Alright," said Zoey.
Francis flipped the coin. It was a tails.
"That settles it," said Louis. "Zoey gets the first aid."
"Fine," said a reluctant Zoey.
As she tended to her wounds, the boys turned around, respecting her privacy. She took off her pink sweater and started to open the first aid.
Although there was a constant blaring sound in the distance, the silence was deafening. To break the extremely thick ice, Zoey thought of something.
"This infection feels a lot like a movie gone wrong," she said, adding some antiseptic to her cut.
"A movie!?" said Bill, bewildered. "I think all those zombie flicks got into your head, Zoe."
"No really. It really is kinda like a sick movie, except it's worse than the movies," she said, tying down her white shirt to close the cut. "I mean, the director must be pretty demented."
"I think it's more like a video game, like Counter-Strike," said Louis, earning the confused gazes of his friends.
More silence followed.
"What?" Louis asked.
In a dusty town, somewhere in the Middle East, a special tactics officer, rank Captain, was disarming a bomb that terrorists planted in a shipment. One mistake and their lives would vanish, as well as the valuable supplies for an ongoing war.
His assistant, a private, was excited for his first day in the job. He was so excited he absentmindedly thought out loud, "This is just like a video game!"
Caught in his unawares, the Captain asked "Which one do you have in mind?"
"I'm thinking Left 4 Dead."
"Left 4 Dead? I don't think this is the one… Maybe that other one Valve made."
"You mean Half-Life?"
"No. That other one. What was it called? Anti-terrorist?"
"Ooh! I know! It's… uh… Counter-Attack?"
And so they bickered on, forgetting the task at hand.
As they muttered about video game names, the bomb exploded. A lone terrorist smiled, as he hallucinated that he heard the extremely audible words "Terrorists Win" in his mind.
As Zoey tied down the last of the bandages, she put her sweater back on.
"Alright guys. I'm ready."
They resupplied their ammo and replaced some weapons. Louis and Francis went with the Benelli Semi-Automatic Shotgun, Bill went with a better M16A3 Assault rifle, and Zoey took a less-rusty Hunting Rifle.
They looked around to find a way over a large concrete obstacle. Louis eyed a forklift holding a huge concrete slab.
"Hey guys, maybe we could lower that forklift over there," he said.
As they approached the forklift, they heard the distinct sobbing of a Witch. Everyone went silent.
"I'll go check where the Witch is," whispered Francis. Everyone else nodded.
Francis found the Witch in the worst possible position right now: right beside the forklift. He went back to report the situation.
"Horseshit!" said Bill. "Argh!"
"I guess we're gonna have to startle that Witch," said Francis. And before anyone could volunteer, he ran towards the Infected woman in an attempt to cap it in one shot.
"Francis NO!" Zoey screamed. But it was too late. Francis already took the shot, ripping part of the Witch's arm off.
It was injured, but too angry to notice any pain as it lunged at Francis with its huge claws, two of them finding their mark near his intestines. He fell, clutching at his side.
Zoey pulled out both her pistols, tears in her eyes, and shot the Witch repeatedly in the gut. It went down, peacefully resting its head on the asphalt.
"Francis you IDIOT!" Zoey yelled angrily. She wanted to hit him with the butt of her pistol, but she couldn't. She just cried her heart out, kneeling on the pavement while Louis and Bill rushed to help Francis up.
"You better drink these," said Bill, giving Francis some pain killers. "You might bleed out soon."
"Old man! You've gone soft on me!" said Francis, spitting out some blood. "This is nuthin'."
Although Francis said it was nothing, Francis still took the pills. The pain subsided, but he was still bleeding.
"We gotta move fast," said Bill. "Francis won't last for long in this condition,"
"Now now, Zoey. Don't go turning Witch on me," Louis said jokingly.
"Shut up," she said as she tried to stifle a giggle and a sniffle.
As they went near the forklift, Louis realized that if they lowered the concrete ramp, it would crush a car underneath it. The car had its alarm on. That meant risking a horde to come down on them.
"Guys, I got an idea," said Louis.
Everyone huddled around, intent on listening in to Louis and their surroundings, making sure no Smoker or Hunter was around.
"We should stay in the doorway in that theater over there. Bill and Francis are in-charge of shoving the Infected that are gonna come from everywhere. Zoey and I are on Smoker/Hunter duty."
"Who's gonna start up the lift?" said Zoey.
"I will," said Bill. "It's more practical that way."
Francis didn't want to be left out in the action, but he just kept it to himself, remembering that what he did just then to the Witch was already taxing the team's patience. He didn't volunteer.
Everyone took their places while Bill limped toward the forklift. The moment he moved a lever, the lift started lowering its load.
Bill ran as fast as his battered leg could carry him. As he arrived at the doorway, he heard concrete slamming into steel, then car alarms ringing in the night sky. Next, a huge un-earthly screaming was ringing along with the blaring alarms; a madman's orchestra was playing.
Infected ran pouring from all sides, except from behind the survivors. Some of the zombies tried to penetrate their defense, but their attempts were in vain. Even one Hunter, pouncing on Francis, didn't deal any damage as Zoey smacked it in the back of the head with her rifle, breaking its spine. As it fell, Francis kicked it away, sending its corpse flying towards other Infected, knocking them down.
The quartet was unstoppable. No zombie could penetrate their perfect defense.
Soon, the roadside quieted down, leaving only the stench of the recent dead.
"I think that's about enough Infected for today," said Louis.
"Come on! We're just getting started!" piped Francis.
"Cut it out you two," said Bill. "We haven't even reached the safe house yet."
"Bill's right," said Zoey. "We better get moving."
The group walked up the ramp, Zoey capping some Infected ahead with her sniper rifle. Louis and Francis took the lead, blowing up a Boomer and a Smoker who were beside each other. Everyone was in the mood to plow their path towards safety.
A bus was blocking the road ahead, leaving only a pathway big enough for another bus to go through. The road ahead was blocked by roofing materials and an iron fence.
Turning left, they saw the familiar spray painted symbol of a house with a cross on it.
"We're near a Safe House!" shouted Zoey excitedly.
But they didn't know the dangers that lurked in the smog ahead.
An angry growl – it was louder than a scream, but it was too deep to be a scream – was heard. The earth shook, like a herd of cattle were on a stampede, but there were no cattle.
"Oh shit no…" Louis said to himself. "TANK!!"
It threw a boulder in the middle of the group, scattering them. Zoey, standing right in front of it, was stunned by its demi-human biceps. She stood there too long; the Tank backhanded her face, breaking her jaw and sending her flying towards the bus.
"Everyone, get back!" shouted Bill. Everyone ran backwards, shooting at the Tank when they had time.
Zoey ran towards the Minigun, expecting everyone else to run there, too. She opened her mouth to try to shout, but a sharp pain shot up her jaw. It was broken, and it hurt like hell. Soon, she realized that she couldn't breathe properly.
As Louis tried to escape the alley with Bill, the Tank suddenly swooped upon them with unnatural speed for a creature so large. It promptly smacked Bill right into a post, smashing his neck. Bill didn't move anymore.
Once again, the Tank tried to throw a piece of concrete. This time, it aimed for Louis. Zoey, feeling faint, still tried to shoot the concrete out of the sky. Louis did the same, trying to find cover behind a wrecked car. The combined firepower of the auto-shotgun and the sniper broke the projectile, but not the Tank's resilience.
The Tank knocked the car away, into the direction where Louis was just half a second ago. Francis never stopped firing from his corner; the fear was etched right into his eyes.
Francis ran backwards, trying to backtrack to the Safe House. Louis went first, shooting at the Tank with Francis.
Francis' wounds got the better of him. He walked too slowly; the Tank caught up. It hit him right through a convenience store window, smashing the portal, its contents, and Francis.
Zoey was in tears by then. She couldn't do anything, and she was barely alive. She was choking.
Louis was scurrying towards the Safe House now, grasped by the fear. Unknowingly, the Tank threw a rock at him, hitting his leg. His bones shattered under the pressure.
As Zoey took her place in the Minigun, she heard Louis' blood-curdling scream.
"It's crushing me!! I can't breathe!" Louis screamed, his efforts falling only on deaf ears. Only the Tank could serve its purpose here.
Louis' lungs were being filled by his own blood, his broken ribs slashing arteries inside. He couldn't speak now. He was drowning in his own bodily fluids.
Zoey was crying hard while she was on the Minigun. Her friends were gone; she was the only one left. This freak incident left her all alone in this zombie-infested city.
Soon, the Tank came to finish the job it started: kill all the survivors. It roared and stomped its way towards the Minigun.
Zoey took this chance to shoot at the huge monster in fast succession. The Tank attempted to throw another concrete slab, only the projectile disintegrated in its hands; Zoey shot it to bits.
It took a while, but the Tank kneeled down eventually, holes peppering its tendons, muscles and body. It rolled down the ramp, dead.
Zoey's face was now caked in blood, sweat and tears. But she had to press on. She had to live. For her friends.
She walked back toward the Safe House, almost certain she heard the ghosts of her companions cheering her on.
As she turned the bus's corner again, something unsightly was waiting there. A whole horde of Infected, maybe 40 strong, was waiting for her, snarling and sprinting towards her. She couldn't scream. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even murmur.
A tongue lashed out from the crowd, wrapping around her body. The Smoker fished her in, grabbing her before she could shoot back.
Zoey, realizing her demise, closed her tear-soaked eyes and waited for the inevitable…
Director: Excellent. That was a great show, wouldn't you agree?
Assistant: Erm… why do you have to be so sadistic?
Director: The folks love sadists! Damage report.
Assistant: Bill was the first to go down. Suffered damage to his 7th Cervical Vertebra and Tibia. Was paralyzed and died of lack of oxygen to brain.
Francis was next. Bleeding from arm lacerations and an abdominal laceration. Head was crushed against a shelf in a convenience store near the Safe House. Instant death.
Louis' lungs were collapsed and filled with blood. Ribs crushed, and so was his Femur. Crushed to death.
Zoey had a deep cut in her left side, bandaged but was bleeding during the fight. Beat and clawed to death by a Horde and a Smoker.
Director: Good… *cue evil laughter*
Hidden Mantis: These stories are based on actual Left 4 Dead gameplay. I only take "epic fails" that look real epic.
R&R please! I think I did a bad job with the ending… What do you think?
Gonna do the next chap for my 1st fanfic. So be patient. :D
Mantis, out!