To all of my followers who choose to read this story: I LOVE YOU GUYS! :D

Basically, it's a Left 4 Dead story, without all of the uninfected characters.

Just from a Huntresses point of view.

I apologize if my main character seems too 'Mary-Sue'. I am not trying to do anything like that.

Please be patient with me. I don't like to post on Foreign Boards. (I haven't set foot out of Cause of Death Territory for awhile now.)

I won't be updating this story as much, seeing as it's only an assignment for Creative Writing. I'll most likely be posting every two weeks. I do have other stories I need to write.

Thank you!

The Huntress

By Shelby

B7

I pull my hood over my blind eyes. Quietly, I perch on the edge of a lean building, suspending my weight in the air. A cool breeze washes over me and I am thankful for my sense of touch. I am also thankful for my sense of smell, because it finds a meal rather quickly. I hear quiet footsteps on the streets below and a cruel smile spreads across my lips. Soon, I am bearing my razor-sharp fangs.

I can smell fresh blood. It's almost intoxicating. I look over the building just a little further, my claws gripping to it's brick exterior. I can hear soft footsteps padding through the streets below. The survivor's breath is rushed, as if they had already been in a near-death chase. I rear up. 'Perfect,' I think as I sniff out her exact location.

Just a few hundred feet away, I hear a loud cough. I can sense the survivor flinch. She knows she shouldn't be out here; especially since she's alone. If she gets attacked, no one will be able to save her. No one at all.

The coughing turns into louder hacks and the survivor brings up her pathetic pistol, frantically searching for the source of the coughing. My smile grows because she has no clue of what is going to happen next.

KOFF!

The woman shrieks as a slimy appendage wraps around her waist. Her breathing is instantly constricted and she's pulled off her feet. She tries to fight this new threat, but it is absolutely no use. Besides, her new attacker won't be her cause of death.

I hop from my position, pushing with my legs and landing swiftly in front of her. Her shrieks cease when she spots me and continue, but louder. She knows her death is inescapable and I like that.

Without further warning, I pounce directly on top of her and put my claws and teeth to work. In the end, she accepts death and I accept a new meal.

…

I wasn't always like this, you know. I had a soul and 20/20 vision. I used to care. I used to love, dream, laugh, play, and assist stalking my meals was not an every day activity. I had a life before this one.

Two weeks ago, I went by the name of Alaina. I had a mother, father, and an older brother. I remember, faintly, of the day I left home and became what I am today. I remember the feel of my mother's hug as I left, telling her I would return home from dinner.

I never did.

I was killed that night; my old life was literally ripped away and my killer gave me a piece of his life so I could know how he, and several million others felt. Something happened though, in the transformation process, and I gained the special ability to hunt, while also losing my eye-sight. I was feared among my peers; even the larger ones who were more feared among any survivors.

I have the feeling you're wondering more about why I am like this and who my 'peers' are. Well, it's quite simple really.

The world has fallen into utter chaos. Two weeks ago, people were living in harmony. Everyone was getting along.

Then the Infection hit.

Several lives were taken and those lost lives would soon claim others and on goes the cycle. People who hadn't yet acquired the disease were labeled as 'Survivors'. The ones who had received the disease but hadn't been effected were called, 'Carriers'. Those who were infected were called, 'The Infection' or the most common name; 'Zombies'.

But I can assure you; we are different than those brain-suckers you might have seen on the television. We all have different rankings and names for ourselves. The infected people who don't have any extra gift are known as, 'Common Infected' while the others that are like me, with special abilities, are called, 'Special Infected.'

There are several Special Infected out there, all with a given name by survivors. I am what is known as a Hunter; or in my case, a Huntress. The Special Infected that assisted me with my dinner; he's called a Smoker because of his constant coughing.

We all have our own names and our own background. Today, you're going to be hearing from me; Sri the Huntress.

Though I don't remember much of my family, I remember my enemies rather well.