First L4D fanfiction, requested by BeingWeirdIsCool.
Hunter x Smoker.
In my story, Hunters and Smokers have the ability to talk.
I like this first person story, I really do.
L4D does not belong to me.
Enjoy. X
When I sit in the dark, and block out the constant shrieks and screams from fellow residents that caught this plague we wished was fatal, I can sometimes remember what it was like before.
The memories are faded, jumbled and seem to have no meaning.
They're just there.
.
There were posters from the government, all in small print that are just symbols now. The smile on a woman's face, she was extremely beautiful. A room somewhere filled with other younger humans like I used to be, an adult pointing towards a large black surface covered in symbols as my own hand copies the symbols as if it were child's play. A sibling I used to have played something that appeared a gun but had strings attached over the front, their room smelt musky and gave me a tingly feeling in my roaring stomach.
.
"Do you ever have flashes?"
He looked up from his feed, a string of meat hanging from his mouth.
"What, you mean flare flashes?"
"No" I took a bite from the leg of whatever we ate "I mean, do you ever get flashes of before this?"
"Before what?"
"The infection"
The smoker placed down his meal. His name was Knocks, at least that's what he called himself. We'd been hunting together for several weeks, we were both looking for the same time.
Survivors.
.
"Does it matter?" Knocks asked, and I couldn't help but agree.
Did it matter?
That was the past, this is now.
We are living in a world where I must kill people to live. The only thing I can call a friend is as monstrous as myself, and can I really call Knocks a friend? Can I call him anything, would I be sad if he got finished?
"Jacques?"
I looked up, Knocks stared at me. His tongue hung limply from the side of his closed mouth, the infected half of his face hidden by the shadows.
"You're thinking about that shit too much, it's bull. Just leave it"
I nodded beneath my hood and focused on the meat, it tasted rotten but the clots of blood were nicer when aged.
.
The Smoker finished his share, and laid back with his hands behind his head full of overgrown black hair. He was in his teenage years like me, I wonder if we were human we could we have been friends? I can't remember anyone from back then, only faces.
Mainly that beautiful woman.
Who was she?
I threw my meat towards Knocks even though I knew I should've kept it for myself. It's every special for himself out here but after having such human thoughts I couldn't eat that.
Knock's long tongue caught the meal in a heartbeat, out of instinct. His lonesome white eye looked at me suspiciously as I made a spot next to him to rest.
Yes, this was life. Like something that happened over, and over, and over.
Tomorrow would be like today, and today would be like a day in two years time.
Until the day I die. That'll be when-
He strangled me, held he high in the air as I struggled for a split moment before clawing at his grip around my neck. I draw oozing red blood with green mist and he groaned and dropped me. I perched on my back legs and prepared to pounce as I let out a growl from my throat, confused but still sharp. The infection, I can hear it.
.
He jerked his tongue out like a viper, lunged foolishly and tried to grab my anatomy. Although a hunter is strong than a smoker, I pounced and tackled Knocks to the ground.
"What the Hell was that about?" I asked forcefully, slowly sinking my nails into his wrists. He coughed before attempting once more to strangle me with the slippery organ. I let his wrist free and pinned down his extra tongue down along with his once free arm.
"You're a fucking freak!" He spat wetly, speckles of blood dotting both our faces and running down his chin along with a black bile.
"I could say the same about you, have you looked in the mirror lately?"
"No! Not about the infection, you are a freak!"
"What are you talking about?"
He groaned in anger and pushed me off, storming towards the other side of this abandoned place.
"Where are you going?"
"Fuck you!" He screamed with his back facing he, although he stopped. It appeared he was thinking, I approached him but kept my senses sharp.
He was still my enemy.
He was still a smoker and I was still a hunter. There were still survivors, and we were still hungry. The infection still reined and creatures like us still existed.
Nothing would change in the world if I killed Knocks, I would only gain a hole in my heart from killing my only friend.
Was he even a friend?
Yes, he was.
"Don't leave Knocks-"
"I wasn't going to!"
His voice was as blunt as an iron pole.
"Can I call you a friend, Knocks?"
He turned suddenly, his gaze looked for my eyes beneath the shadow of my hood.
"That's what I mean!" He exclaimed, I couldn't tell if he was relieved or if this was the beginning of his anger. "You're so... you're so... human!" he spat the word as if it were a curse.
Human.
"Human?" I almost laughed as I pointed to my face "You think I'm human?"
"No! But you act like one, just like one! Always being curious and asking questions and shit, especially about the past! What's the past is the fucking past, it ain't never coming back Jacques"
"I know that"
"So why the fuck do you ask?" At this point I realize he's only at the beginning of his rage, he kicks a barrel over and lets the clatter break the silence between his sentences. "You're a hunter, start acting like one for fuck's sake!".
"Why is it a problem?"
"Because... because..."
A simple question, something I'd always wanted to ask. Why was it wrong?
"You don't have a reason, do you?"
"I'm fucking jealous, OK?"
"Jealous, of what?"
"That you can remember stuff, and feel stuff and not be a fucking monster like you're supposed to be. And because... I really like you, alot. I am jealous of you, and I really like you. Happy now?"
I thought. Knocks panted and glared at me from under his long black hair.
"You like me? Like a friend?"
"You really are killing me Jacques. I love you, I think"
Love? Love is what I think of when I see the woman's face, at least I think it's love that I feel. So Knocks loves me?
"But you just said you didn't feel anything"
"I don't, except for that one thing. You're so... so..." He trailed off. I think he was trying to finish his sentence with a word he couldn't find.
Outside the virus still reined and it was still loud, but somehow it was silent.
Did I like Knocks? Did I love Knocks? I was happy to find Knocks and I was happy to talk and hunt with him too. His hair was always something I liked because it was long but also short, and the left side of his face still had a kind of human beauty. Did that mean I liked him?
"Knocks..." I said and then realized I had nothing to say. It was all confusing.
He abruptly strided towards and threw a grate out of his way with his tongue. I growled in warning but he didn't stop until he stood slightly taller than me and pulled my hood down.
The light was agony.
It burned and my eyes leaked and I wondered why Knocks would do something like that.
I tried to hiss, but he silenced me by putting his lips over my mouth.
I was confused, but hazed. It felt... nice. Even though his larger tongue pressed against my cheek it still felt nice.
Why did it feel nice?
When he pulled away, there were little strings of saliva attaching our lips together.
"Once I saw some survivors do it, they use it to show that they like somebody alot" He murmured quietly while his face was all red. My eyes still stung but I didn't really pay attention to it anymore.
I liked kisses.
I liked kisses from Knocks more.
I leaned in and sealed the gap, moving my lips softly against his in curiousity. He did the same thing and the air around us became warmer. I don't know when I'd shut my eyes, when opened them I saw Knocks had shut his too.
Just like a human.
His hands were holding my waist as if I was going to run away.I slipped my arms around his shoulders to make sure Knocks didn't get angry and leave.
Knocks pushed me back to gently fall onto the cold floor, he placed himself on top of me and looked down at me; hoodless.
"Your eyes are the colour of the ocean" He said softly, and kissed me harder this time. His human tongue started feeling for mine, and when I touched it little sparks ran from him to me.
His hands began moving down to my pants and I looked at him in a puzzled way.
He blushed again when I asked what he was doing.
"It's... something you will like, I think"
My -ocean coloured- eyes watched intently when his hand opened the buttons of my pants and found another part of my appendage I hardly saw. It stood up slightly and made a tent in my baggy pants, if this feeling was not so intoxicating I would've been curious to know why this was happening.
Knocks stroked it, he rubbed it between his warm hands and I shrieked and my legs began to shake. His hands felt so nice, I moved my hips upwards and squealed to try and do something about the feeling. It almost hurt, yet in the nicest way it could.
"K-Knocks..." I stuttered and his hand went faster on my appendage. White liquid had begun to leak from the top and drip down his hand, his long tongue swiped up the material and I blushed.
"Jacques, please keep doing that" He groaned even though I didn't know what he meant. I saw his own hand, in his pants doing the same movements that his other hand was. His eyes barely remained open and his larger tongue quivered slightly. I pulled him down and kissed him again, liking the taste of his bloody saliva. Suddenly the fire in my stomach burnt up my throat in a scream I swore was human. I rocked my hips on the floor in instinct to release this feeling. When I looked down, there was more white material covering myself and Knocks.
Knocks was smiling when that hand in his pants slowed down to a stop, he looked so happy. I felt so tired, I could barely stay awake. I felt warm and exhausted. I curled up on the floor, and shut my eyes. I began to sleep, I could feel myself being lost. I felt a hand covered in blisters on top of my own, it wasn't a grip of iron and it wasn't soft.
It was Knocks.
His hand was all sticky and I grasped it.
He lay next to me, and held me like the woman in my memories used to. His long tongue was soft, laid between the both of us.
It was still cold, and the virus still existed. Witches still cried and survivors still survived.
.
I was still a hunter and Knocks was still a smoker. Although something had changed, love was new and love was nice.
Knocks loved me.
And I loved Knocks too.
I'll probably never even know what love is, but I don't mind. This feeling is enough.
Aw, fluff.
That's cute.
Read and Review?
Thank you. X
