Hey all! I am working on the 5th chapter of Mercer's Progeny, but this story came to me in a single stroke of inspiration!

It's meant to be a Left 4 Dead love story, featuring my two favorite infected. I like to think of myself as the person whose viewpoint this is from. As for Melody.... I made her up. I like the name. Nyeh.

Anyway, Enjoy if you can! :P

UPDATE: A couple of reviews said I got a bit confusing with the tense I was speaking in, that I was alternating between Past and Present. After proofreading a couple of times, I noticed the mistakes, and I have edited accordingly. Hope this makes more sense to those who got confused.

Enjoy :)


Memory/Past

Present

This is the end for me.

Those are the only words floating through my mind. The rest of which is occupied by the painful memories that now haunt me, even though they will soon be laid to rest.

Along with me.

My friends, family, loved ones, all taken. All taken by the infection, or the horrors it spawned. I was forced to watch in horror as my beloved Melody was taken from me by the relentless claws of a Hunter. I was forced to watch, from the viewpoint the Smoker had selected for me.

For he had me tightly bound, blasting me with his toxic haze as I coughed and struggled to get free, yet his hold was ironclad, slowly draining me of my breath. In a moment of quick thinking, I reached for the pistol at my hip and aimed it toward the tongue wrapped around me, even though my restricted state meant I would be aiming at myself as well.

I squeezed the trigger as the sound of a bullet ripping flesh was heard shortly after the gunshot. I screamed in agony as the bullet pierced my chest, going straight through me into my captor, forcing him to splutter in pain and let me go. I use this opportunity to get free, staggering forward and picking up my M16. The Smoker huffs angrily and staggers off into the darkness. I would let him live for now.

I looked over to Melody, the Hunter having already finished its grisly task. Moments ago Melody was full of life, willing to fight by my side to survive. Now she lay in a bloody heap on the ground, covered in slash marks and blood. I dropped to my knees, tears gathering in my eyes, and I run my hands gently over her face, drawing her eyelids gently shut. The words "Rest in peace, my love" gently escaped my lips. At that moment, a stabbing pain drew my attention. The bullet wound from before, still freshly bleeding, forces me to grit my teeth in pain.

It was then I heard the resounding scream. The horde. They were alerted to my presence. I needed to move.

I began my hasty jog down the street, my movement hampered by the wound in my chest that is currently draining me of precious blood, the scent of which surely attracting more infected to me. I needed to hide somewhere, even though I knew in my mind that my time was short.

I reached a small storeroom and staggered inside, slamming the door shut. I then proceeded to push several heavy boxes against the door with what strength I had left. I turned to face the nearby wall, spotting a med pack. I thought that I may just be saved as I swaggered over to it, picking it up. I unzipped it and wrenched it open to find…..

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

This med pack was spent. My heart fell out of my chest.

I sighed in resignation and slumped against the wall, the wound in my chest not stopping bleeding. I hear the horde bashing angrily at the door outside and I know that it won't be long before they break through.


This is the end for me.

I notice a small ammo pile on the shelf next to me, and grab for a few M16 clips, thinking that if I go down, I can at least take a whole lot of these bastards with me.

I pull out the currently empty clip and switch it for a new one, mentally thanking that gruff old Vietnam veteran who showed me how to use this weapon a few days into the infection. I wonder where he is now? And those three traveling with him?

Such thoughts are interrupted as the door creaks and breaks, the boxes shortly after them, and in my propped up position against the wall, I aim and squeeze the trigger as the horde pours through the broken doorway and boxes. Bullets spray from the end of my assault rifle, cutting the infected down just as fast as they are pouring through the door. They seem to dissipate for a moment, so I take the opportunity to reload.

Pull the trigger, release the clip catch, load a new clip in, pull back on the firing pin. I remember the old man's instructions as if I have always known them. I hear the second wave approach, and once again began to spray bullets towards the incoming horde as they funnel through, cutting them down just as easily.

I hear a moment's respite, and the blood loss causes me to lose consciousness.

THREE HOURS LATER

I awaken to a low growl. I look weakly to my feet, and I see something that makes my skin crawl and me bristle with fury.

A Hunter. But not just any Hunter. This one has fragments of a dark green sweater on his claws. The same dark green sweater that Melody wore.

"You bastard!" I try to scream, but it loses all ferocity due to my weakened state. The Hunter screeches and leaps on top of me, clawing at me in its blood frenzy. I scream in agony, trying in vain to throw him off. Occasionally I feel my fists connect with his hooded face, yet they do nothing to dissuade him.

Eventually, I cave in. The pain becomes searing and I lose all strength to resist. The Hunter lifts one claw into the air, aiming to bring it down on my throat.

'This is it' I think to myself. The same Hunter that took my love from me is the same one that is about to end me.

Yet he seems to hesitate. He growls again, though this time a little less fiercely. Almost………. sadly. He gently crawls off me, leaving me in a state where I am almost completely unable to move.

I almost can't believe it. He is leaving me to suffer and bleed to death. God dammit! As if he hadn't made me suffer enough already! Painful tears stain my face, as I remember watching my loved ones die, yet I feel a semblance of peace in the fact that I will soon be joining them.

-cough-

I look around as much as my head movement will allow. That cough sounded familiar.

-cough cough hack-

There it is again! I know that cough……

Errugh!

The sound of someone coughing up bile in their throat is heard, as a second figure staggers through the door. Even though the lighting is rather dim, the haze that surrounds him as well as the hole in his shirt tells me exactly who it is.

The Smoker that had held me while I watched Melody die.

Yet his tongue is withdrawn into his face, his mouth curved downwards slightly. He looked….. sad. I looked at the Hunter, and his teeth are not bared in their normal aggressive demeanor. His mouth is also curved downwards.

My mind was swimming. Are these infected feeling….. sorry for me?

They look at me, standing very still. The Smoker has stopped coughing. The Hunter is not growling. They both seem to be radiating sadness. My mind is raging now. How is this possible? I thought all these infected freaks were mindless killers. Yet…. These two appeared to be sad…. As if they regretted what they did to me.....

I growl as much as I could. "W-what are you two…… w-w-waiting for…." I manage to sputter out. They say nothing for a moment more, before the Smoker steps forward. He points at me, makes a strange motion with his hands, that could only really be substituted for "turn into" before pointing at himself. He then does the same first two motions, and points at the Hunter.

It takes me a short while to realize what he is trying to say. He is asking me which of those two I want to become. They have left me on the verge of death so they could TURN me!

"N-no fucking way!" I struggle to say, yet my words do not seem to phase them. They merely stand aside, to allow me to see a third figure enter the room. My heart skips a weakened beat at what I see.

It was Melody. Her hair now a dirty white, her hands now coated in what looks like blood, her eyes a deep bloody red that would chill any normal person to the bone.

But not me.

I look into them. "M…Melody?" I whispered. She doesn't respond, she only kneels beside me, that small, reassuring smile of hers on her face. Upon closer inspection, I see that her eyes are also stained with tears.

I feel my breath growing short and more labored. My time is running short. I look at the Smoker and Hunter, then at Melody again. "If I…….then…..I can……. Be with you……. Again?" I breathe out. Again, Melody doesn't reply, she merely nods to me while cradling me gently in her arms, not daring to let me go just yet.

I feel a small pang of happiness. These two are offering me a new life…. So to speak. I weakly raise my arm, and point at the Smoker. He seems to understand what I am implying, as Melody lays me gently down, stands up and backs away slowly, her eyes never leaving me. The Smoker kneels beside me, and gurgles something that sounds like it was trying to form words. The gurgle sounded something like "I'm sorry."

He breathes a dark green haze over my face and wounds. The smoke invades my windpipe, as I feel something tiny crawling into my wounds.

I feel the life draining from me, as I look at Melody during my last few seconds of human life.

"I… love…… you……"

Those are the last words I speak as I feel the grip of death embrace me.

SEVERAL DAYS LATER

The moon shone brightly upon the ruined city. People would call it a terrible sight.

But not us.

Melody and I sit calmly atop a building. A light black haze surrounds us, keeping all would be interruptions at bay. Melody smiles at me as she runs her darkened fingernails along my slightly bumpy skin. I look deeply into her fierce crimson eyes as she stares back into my white, dead ones. We slowly draw together and share our infected kiss.

I am known as Smoker.

Melody is known as Witch.

We have an infected love, but I would see to it that no one ever interrupted it again.

And there we have it! I really don't know what else to say about this..... other than R&R? I might make more Left 4 Dead stories, they seem kinda fun.

Anywho, Ciao!

- Mr Skull