Hello everyone :) I've been getting into Left 4 Dead 2 lately, and I came up with this little idea about my fan character. Yes, I am well aware that I have two other chapter stories going on for other fandoms, but I'm a little low on drive at the moment. This kind of broke me out of my mini hiatus thing.
I suppose I should start the story now, so I'll stop talking. Typing. Whatever. Hope you guys enjoy this. And if you don't, I wouldn't mind CONSTRUCTIVE criticism as to why. But if you simply go on a rant about my character or the situation, I don't want to hear it. I did this for FUN, okay? Okay. Now that I've had my piece, on with the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Left 4 Dead series, but I do own the fan character in this story.
World on Fire
A Left 4 Dead 2 Story
I've never thought about what the end of the world would be like. I always thought that I'd be dead long before it happened. But life has a funny way of throwing curveballs at you, doesn't it? It keeps coming and coming at you, and it never stops. At least, that's what my grandfather told me.
I suppose I ought to introduce myself. My name is Mary. Mary Elizabeth Overbeck. I'm seventeen years old. I'll be eighteen in March. I am –at least I was- a student at St. Agnes Prep School. It's exactly what it sounds like. I had a uniform and everything. As a matter of fact, I'm wearing it right now. As far as things stand, I'm probably going to be wearing it for a long time.
Let me explain. The world is ending. There's an infection going around that's killing anyone who gets it. For lack of a better term, everyone is a zombie.
Everyone except me.
The day started out like any other. I woke up, got dressed, and got ready to go to school. My grandfather was having knee surgery later in the day. I offered to go to the hospital with him, but he said no. I couldn't afford to miss school, he told me gruffly. That was just his way. William Overbeck, better known to his friends as Bill. He was a longtime veteran of every war imaginable, and a born fighter. That was the person I called Papa.
Anyways, for some reason or another, I didn't get the memo that school was cancelled until further notice. Our computer was broken, and my grandfather was having a hell of a time trying to find someone who would fix it. The Infection hadn't hit our town, but people were leaving as quickly as they could. My grandfather and I were planning on skipping town too once we got the chance. So, I walked to school like I did every morning, carrying my backpack like nothing was wrong. I was about to find out that this was not the case.
When I arrived, the first thing I noticed was the silence. My school is never silent, not when you have groups of teenagers all gathered in one place. That should have indicated something was horribly wrong. Still, I went into the cafeteria, like I did every single morning. It was dark, except for the sunlight streaming in through the open windows.
That's when I first saw them.
There were many, probably about fifty, all wearing St. Agnes uniforms. But I could tell right away that these weren't students. They slouched and shambled with expressionless faces and deathly gray skin. They groaned when they saw me, and I let out a scream. All that did was send them in my direction, reaching towards me with bloody, gruesome hands.
I ran. Down the stairs and out the double doors, with these monsters hot on my trail. I ran until my legs burned, but I didn't care. I had to get away. I knew my grandfather would still be at the hospital, so I decided to go home. I would gather some supplies and stay put until the time when school was supposed to get out. But when I got there, a whole other nightmare was waiting for me.
There were more of them around my house, shuffling up the driveway and banging against the yellow siding. A group of them were crowded together, but fell to the sound of gunfire. Upon closer look, I saw my grandfather, my Papa, wearing his old army fatigues and shooting at the creatures like there was no tomorrow.
"Papa!" I screamed, leaping over the fallen bodies. "What's going on? Why aren't you at the hospital?"
"No time to explain!" he hollered at me. "Get in the house!"
I did what he told me, pushing past various infected and prying the door open. Running to my room, I shut the door and took several deep breaths. I could still hear them banging their arms against the side of the house, so I worked quickly. Emptying my schoolbooks out of my bag, I grabbed an extra set of clothes and threw them in. I also grabbed the rifle that Papa had given me for Christmas, even though I had no idea how to use it.
Hesitantly opening the door, I glanced around to make sure it was safe, before darting to the kitchen and searching through the cabinets. I took some basic food supplies for me and Papa to survive on, because I knew how much he would complain if we were to run out.
Suddenly, the door slammed open, and my grandfather rushed in. He already looked so bruised and beaten, but he was no quitter. The banging against the side of the house grew louder, and I knew the creatures were closing in. Placing his hands on my shoulders, Papa looked me straight in the eye.
"We don't have much time, so listen to me, Mary." He said fervently. "You need to get yourself out of here. Find an evacuation point, there's a bunch of them around the area, but there's more in the south. Go there if you have to, but make sure you get out of here."
"But…" I cut in. "What about you, Papa?"
"Don't worry about me." He snapped. "Just go. And when this is all over, I'll come and find you. Got it?"
I nod quickly.
"Repeat it back to me."
I do so, and he nods at me. "Good girl."
Tears suddenly fill my eyes as I realize what this could mean. He's telling me to save myself from this hell and leave him behind. I might never see my Papa again. Bearing this thought in mind, I fling my arms around his neck and hug him tightly. He sighs sadly, and hugs me back, as if I am a little girl again. I can feel myself crying.
When we pull away, he reaches out and rumples my hair, like he did when I was a kid. This time, I don't complain about him messing up my hair.
"I love you, Papa." I sniff, wiping at my eyes.
He chuckles softly in response. "Right back 'atcha, Robin." It's a nickname he gave me when I was six years old, after I found a bird's nest in our backyard. I begged him to take my picture with it, and after much grumbling, he finally did. It sits on the mantle in our living room.
Before I can change my mind, I turn around and push my way out of the front door. I rush past the infected as they all take swipes at me, and I don't look back. As I start running, a thousand thoughts rush through my mind. The world is ending. Everyone is gone. I'm all alone.
At this point, I can only pray for mine and Papa's survival.
Well? What do you think? I'd love to hear your opinions on this, but if you could be kind about it, I wish you would be. My boyfriend really liked this, and he is an avid player of the second game. He also thought it was sad, considering it has Bill in it. I won't spoil it for you if you haven't played, but yeah. Anyhoo, please leave a review on your way out. Reviews make me happy. And you'll get a virtual cookie if you wish :)
Love,
~Pandas a.k.a. Liz