A/N: Hello just felt like typing a Left 4 Dead story…. Well here we go, for we are now going into the mind of a young writer with inspiration. PS My teacher has taught me a lot of new grammar stuff so I'm trying to do it subconsciously.
It was a hot summer afternoon, but that's not what gave Cole the sweats. It was the alley that stood before him, and the shadowy figure at end of it. He had made it to this relatively unscathed, yet this figure was what sat before him. This figure crushed his dreams of escape with her loud sobs. They broke his heart, and his mind.
In a way he pitied her, for all she could do with her life is cry. No other emotion ever took her sadness, but anger. Anger at survivors who got to close, for all she wanted to do was cry in peace. Now Cole had to get pass her, but it was a narrow alley. It was so tiny the walls were only ten feet apart.
He adjusted his grip on the Auto Shotgun in his hands, and thought the only thing to solve this situation. Crowned. That's what his fellow survivors called it before they had been murdered. Now it was a reality he had to deal with. There was no help incase he missed, nor a retry as if it was a game.
This alley was the only path to make it to the extraction point. It was time to nut up or shut up. He strolled forward; ready to kill once more. She wailed and moaned, so sweetly it hurt. It was sad, but her voice was so lovely.
Cole was mere feet from here when his phone beeped. He had kept it on him in hopes to get a call from his family, but no call came. Now it was only on him because it was a big deal of his old life, yet now it was his death. It was low on battery and signaled it with its loud beep. The witch on the ground stopped at once and turned to him. The look of her golden eyes pierce him, and stroke fear into his heart. He expected death to come swiftly, and yet there was only silence.
He stood there gazing at her, for now he saw no anger in her eyes. Only a loneliness and fear. The witch looked like a lost kit, and only able to cry for its mother. Cole didn't move; paralyzed from shock. He should be dead, but she was not enraged.
She stood up, so quietly. Cole quivered, for he feared she was now going to end it. Maybe it was just a rouge not to let him have the upper hand, but only to get his guard down. Maybe she was going to snap and attack him with no notice. His thoughts were always like this, so many of them starting with maybes. He tried to raise his gun, but his limbs were lead and couldn't move. She approached him.
Check mate. Such a simple phrased used for games, but now meaning death. A simple move of a knight could start off this phrase, and the death of a king would end it. Now it was a witch who was going to strike, and Cole was the helpless king.
She wrapped her arms around him, so softly. The witch dragged him down with her to the ground; both on their knees. She rested her head in the crook of his shoulder, and cried. It wasn't a normal cry of a witch, for now it was a human cry. A soft cry that tugged at Cole's heart. He was dumbfounded, but subconsciously wrapped his arms around her as if she wasn't the enemy. That she wasn't like on of the others who killed people like him daily.
His vision became blurry, yet it wasn't from pain or exhaustion, but of pain. It was the pain inside of losing his friends, family, and all he cherished in this world. No more movies, no more life, no more love, and most of all; no more hope. All that was good in the world was dead, and now it was only him, and the girl in his arms.
A/N: Alright, Just the first chapter of my new story. Dedication to my new girlfriend who wanted to read this so bad once I told her I was making it. Thanks for the fuel to let me make this first chapter. More will come later, PEACE! Also R&R!