Disclaimer: Don't own any characters from the Left 4 Dead series. They belong to Valve.
A/N: Let me just explain that I play L4D2 differently than most people. I always have to be carrying a Defibrillator Unit, a Melee weapon, a primary gun with good spread in case of large hordes, a jar of Boomer Bile, a shot of adrenaline, and I always have to be playing as Ellis. I've tried playing as the other characters after beating Dead Center with the mechanic first (offline mode, of course), but they just don't…feel right to play as. And I play differently than most players because I never look at my own health bar; I pay attention to the health bars of my teammates because they come first. I'll admit that I don't aim very well with most of the guns (as my computer lags a lot when too many zombies fill the screen), but that's why I stick with a melee weapon. If I can't find a good melee weapon to stick with (on some maps, I only find chainsaws, and those don't last for long), I go with dual pistols.
Anyway, the main thing is that I'm very team-focused when I play online. I like playing with other people, because I know that they'll (usually) be looking out for me and they'll (usually) try to help me if I get pulled back by a surprise Smoker or something. The Bots in offline mode aren't too bright sometimes (I'm looking at your crappy AI, Rochelle), and I find myself getting a little annoyed when it's something simple (like a Hunter attack) or something that can be quickly stopped (like a Smoker grab). Online, if any teammate of mine goes down, I'll be running – or limping, as the case usually seems to be – back to them to revive them. If a teammate somehow gets killed and their corpse is within range (not outside the hotel building in the first level, those random Chargers make everything depressing), I'll be right there to use the Defibrillator on them. Even if it means I'm putting myself in danger or possible death, I don't leave my teammates behind.
…Some players actually yell at me in the voice chat for going back to use my Defib Unit on someone else. Well, until it was them who had bled out from a surprise Charger or a sudden Tank that spawned from nowhere (to get revived shortly after). Then I usually got a, "…Didn't need your help." I don't do it for recognition; I do it because it's the right thing to do. I don't expect people to pull off the same crazy stunts that I do; for an example, there was a Dark Carnival incident that involved an incapacitated Nick, an annoyed Coach, a pissed off Rochelle, and an upset Ellis who didn't want anyone to die. Long story short, everyone escaped (though it took much longer to get rescued than it would've been had I left the Nick player to die), and the Coach and Rochelle players got mad at me. But the Nick player stuck around after the credits ended, his parting words to me were, "You're crazy for jumping out of the helicopter and risking your own life to save a player who was too careless. But I'm kind of touched that someone would actually go and do what you did. Not a lot of gamers have the balls to look beyond their own survival and actually act like a team. I'm proud to have played with you, and I think I've learned a few tricks from you for future teamwork. Good luck, and may Karma Charger protect you."
…I hadn't understood the whole 'Karma Charger' thing until later on, where I rarely became the target for Chargers. If a Charger somehow gets me, it's usually because I accidentally limp into their path to heal someone else or their actual target dodges out of the way in time. Also, yes, I really did jump out of the rescue helicopter when I realized that the Nick player wouldn't make it (he had a Tank and around 25 zombies surrounding/mauling him). Each gamer is different, they don't always go into 'protect the entire team' mode. I don't expect them to, and I don't push my belief on others about running back to save someone when there's a chance of getting killed too.
Recently, I played Dead Center on Advanced Mode (trying to work up the courage and skill to start playing on Expert), and I had been a little put-off on the difficulty at first. I had started a lobby, waited about five minutes to see if anyone would join, and then just started the game when nobody entered the lobby. It was fine with three bots for a bit (I healed them, they healed me back), but during the second level, some griefers joined and used up all the Medkits, got their characters killed where I couldn't reach them, and left me alone with just a Defibrillator. It sucked; I had to finish the second level by myself – on Advanced Mode, no less – and I was lucky that I didn't get surprise attacked by a Hunter or something.
Some time during the third level, someone joined as Nick. I was a bit nervous; I mean, I thought it was just another griefer, and I was afraid that they'd shoot at me until I died and then leave. But he didn't; instead, he helped out a lot more than the bots did, and near the part where we had to break the glass doors and shut off the alarm, others joined as Coach and Rochelle. My paranoia was for nothing; the players ended up running back for the people who got incapacitated and actually kept them protected until a Medkit was found to heal them. I was shocked, really; I never saw this kind of team dedication on the easier difficulties. On the last level, the AI Director tormented me; I had gotten incapacitated after throwing down a can of gas for the car. A teammate helped me up and ran off, but then a hunter got me and I got killed.
I had my Defib Unit still, and the Rochelle player used it on me. I thanked them, and started to follow them to get more gas cans. However, a Tank spawned right behind me (I heard the Coach player shouting in voice chat, "Aw, sh[beep]! Everyone get down here! We got a Tank to kill!"), and I got punched into a corner. I threw a nearby molotov, only to get grabbed by a Smoker from behind and killed again. I was upset and worried at this point; after all, I had already died once and been revived. Would the other players ditch me and escape without me?
Turns out, the Nick player found a Defib Unit and found my corpse. I almost hadn't noticed him (I was about to start sulking because of my bad luck), but I heard Nick shout, "Come on!" and the sound of a Defibrillator being used on a dead teammate. He escorted me back down the stairs, swearing when he saw a horde running after us. I helped him kill some, but we quickly made it to the car as the Coach player poured in the last of the gas needed to start the car. All four survivors had escaped that run, to my surprise and happiness.
Everyone complimented each other, they were nice about some of the less lucky parts of the run, and we said our kind farewells. Even now, I'm hoping that there are more players like them out there on L4D2.
Wow, enough of my rambling…this story is based on some of my actual gameplay, but with a more realistic twist…written in everyone's favorite mechanic's point of view, of course. Sorry if the accent bothers anyone, but I actually had to think like Ellis and mentally acquire his southern drawl to write this. Hope you guys like it.
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"Hurry up, Overalls!"
"Ah'm goin' as fast as Ah can…!"
Ah found mahself wishin' fer pain pills or a shot of adrenaline. Ah was in a decent 'mount of pain, courtesy of th' Special Infected an' other mindless zombies. Mah recently acquired friends an' teammates were in much better condition – though they was sportin' some injuries from th' undead, they wasn't limpin' like Ah was – realizin' that Ah was lagging behind. One of mah teammates chose that moment to glance 'round at me – Rochelle, th' kind-hearted woman who had strong instincts to take care of us if'n we were hurt – an' her face seemed to fill with panic.
Ah might be curious, but Ah ain't stupid; despite mah strong desire to turn around t'see what had her so spooked, Ah thought better of it an' focused on goin' as fast as Ah could. An', boy, was Ah glad Ah didn't turn 'round.
"Ellis, sweetie, hurry!"
Ah heard our leader, Coach – th' large man with a fondness fer candy, sweets, an' a lover of food – cussin' under his breath as he glanced back at me, too.
"We're almost at the Safe House, don't give up on us yet, boy!"
Ah tried to push mahself a bit more, but mah body jus' wouldn't go any faster. Even now, Ah knew that mah body was already breachin' its limit. Ah watched as Nick – th' fancily-dressed man who seemed to wear tha' pokerface of his all th' time – reached th' Safe House first, openin' th' door an' ushering th' other two into th' temporary sanctuary. Fer a moment, Ah thought they'd close th' door on me an' leave me t'die. When Nick raised his dual pistols an' aimed them in mah direction, Ah suddenly wondered if he'd ever gather th' motivation to shoot me.
"Keep running towards me, kid. I've got you covered."
Ah felt like remindin' him that Ah was limpin', but decided to save mah breath an' keep movin'. Ah was gettin' closer to th' Safe House, Nick shootin' at th' group of undead that were no doubt rushin' after me. Ah was almost there, Nick was gettin' within arm's reach…
Suddenly, Ah felt somethin' wrap around mah body, becomin' tight an' constricting, an' Ah felt myself bein' pulled back.
"No! Smoker's got me!"
Th' Special Infected – th' long-tongued creep known to us as a Smoker – started to reel me back towards itself an' th' remainin' undead that were so anxious to dig their claws into mah flesh. Ah struggled, soon feelin' precious oxygen being rushed outta mah lungs as th' slick appendage squeezed 'round me tighter. Ah started to choke, looking on sadly as Ah half-expected th' man in th' white suit to shut th' door an' leave me to mah fate. Instead, Ah saw Nick rushin' towards me, shootin' at th' zombie tryin' to steal me away.
"Ellis!"
Ah heard th' sound of a minor explosion an' th' familiar puff of th' hurtful gasses emitting from a dead Smoker. Th' tongue 'round me went slack, but Ah still couldn't get free tha' quick. Mah body ached in protest as Ah got up shakily; Ah watched as Nick reached fer somethin' on his belt an' threw it across th' large hallway. Ah heard th' familiar steady beepin' of a pipe bomb an' th' familiar footfalls of th' mindless undead runnin' after it, startin' to limp towards th' Safe House again, but at a slower pace than before. Nick didn't seem t'be too happy.
"Don't expect me to do this too often, Overalls."
Before Ah could ask what he meant, Ah found mahself bein' lifted an' carried th' rest of th' way to th' Safe House. We were inside, an' Rochelle closed th' door to prevent any of th' zombies from gettin' in.
"That was close. Too close."
Ah silently agreed with Rochelle; tha' run had been undeniably cruel to us. We'd encountered a lot of Hunters, Smokers, Jockeys, an' Chargers on our way to th' Safe House. Everyone had eventually used up their Medkits to heal – Ah'd given mine to Nick after he escaped from a nasty attack with one of them Hunters – an' Ah'd been reduced to using some pain pills fer th' remainder of our trip.
"Geez, kid, it looks like you're trying to keep your intestines from falling out."
Nick set me down against a wall – fer support, most likely – an' seemed to look me over. Ah gave him a lopsided grin in response.
"N-naw, Ah'm fine. Tha' was kinda fun…Ah mean, did ya see th' way Coach swung tha' axe into th' Jockey? Man, oh, man! Tha' was so cool when it went flyin' across th' hallway an' hit tha' Smoker an' sent it over th' ledge! Tha' was jus' funny as hell! Y'know, tha' reminds me of this one time, when mah buddy Keith…"
"Ellis, if you don't stop talking about this 'Keith' guy, I'm going to use some bandages to tie you up in a corner and keep your mouth shut."
Ah could've sworn Ah heard Rochelle mutter somethin' like, 'Oooh, that sounds kinky,' before tossin' a Medkit towards us. Nick caught it expertly an' began to look through it.
"Coach and I are going to check the rooms for supplies. We'll be back in a bit."
Ah nodded to Rochelle, but Nick jus' uttered a, "Whatever."
As th' two walked away from us, their footsteps faded an' Coach's hopeful prayers of chocolate bein' found among any salvageable supplies did too. Ah looked up at Nick, who looked a bit lost – fer a moment, anyway – before he realized Ah was lookin' at him.
"Yew okay, Nick?"
It was always funny when th' suited man raised an eyebrow in amusement; it didn't look natural at all, 'cause Ah was always used to seein' his pokerface on all th' time.
"You were clawed by a Hunter, punched down an escalator by a Charger, grabbed by a Smoker, and are currently slumped against the wall of this Safe House covered in your own blood…And you're asking me if I'm okay?"
Ah couldn't help it; Ah gave th' man a goofy grin.
"Yup."
He looked like he wanted to holler or somethin', but he seemed to think better of it an' settled on facepalmin' instead.
"Look, just…let me take care of your injuries before I get a headache."
He moved mah arms from mah stomach an' lifted mah shirt, an' Ah thought Ah saw a bit of concern in his normally emotionless eyes. We remained in silence as he carefully cleaned mah wounds, an' Ah suddenly thought back to what'd happened earlier. Nick could've jus' shut th' door to th' Safe House at anytime an' had th' option to leave me t'die more than once. Instead, he'd shot at th' horde behind me, killed tha' Smoker, an' even went so far as to carry me into th' Safe House himself. Now, Ah didn't think mah teammates would ever leave anyone behind – we'd bonded an' learned to depend on each other fer support when it was needed – but fer someone like Nick, it must've been difficult to trust any of us.
"…Nick?"
He looked up at me, pausin' in his work of wrappin' th' bandages 'round mah stomach an' torso.
"Yeah, kid?"
Ah wondered if Ah should've jus' kept mah mouth shut, but Ah also wanted to know why th' conman risked his own life fer mine. Mah curiosity won.
"Ah was wonderin'…"
He snorted, as if amazed tha' Ah even had th' ability to think. Ah frowned as he resumed his task, but he gave me a quick glance to show tha' he was still listenin'.
"Yew could've kept yerself out of danger, an' yew didn't have to carry me into th' Safe House. Yew could've jus' closed th' door an' left me to die. What Ah'd like to know is, why didn't yew?"
He frowned, an' tha' worried me. Nothin' could've prepared me for th' explanation tha' came from his mouth.
"Overalls, even if I had the chance to leave you behind, I don't think I'd ever want to. Other than Coach and Rochelle getting pissed at me if I ever did, I'm afraid that I'm not that heartless."
He finished wrappin' th' bandages 'round me an' lowered mah shirt back into place, an' he smiled at mah confused look.
"Besides, it's your exaggerated optimism and friendliness that's kept us going strong. If we lose you, who else is going to make us laugh in a dark situation? Who'd cut through the tension with an amusing Keith story?"
He patted mah hat-covered head in a reassurin' gesture tha' I was grateful fer.
"There's a sweet drug out there that keeps survivors like us strong, and its name is Ellis."
Ah couldn't help but smile at th' conman.
"Just don't tell anyone else what I said, all right?"
Ah nodded, knowin' full well tha' Nick needed an image to keep; he needed t'be th' tough pessimist so Ah could push everyone else with mah happiness an' optimism.
"Thanks, Nick."
"Anytime, kid."