This is an idea I started tossing around after playing L4D, and seeing some of the fanart and comics on dA. I like the idea of the special infected, and what they might have been like before they became infected. Even after. They do show a slight level of intelligence beyond animals, the jockey not withstanding. But I'd have to say my favorite special infected would probably be the smoker. He seems like the cool kind of kid you'd get black market tickets to an Ozzy Osbourne concert. The Hunter is this fit athletic runner, or swimmer, on crack, probably gamed a lot with the smoker and the boomer (who has an eating disorder). They probably were enemies with the Tank, who was a main jock, right hand being the jockey (obviously enough). Tanks girlfriend, the witch, he probably abused. (thus her unbridled rage, and intense weeping). The spitter was a white trash wife (obviously) probably to the boomer, and in a constant battle with the boomers sister, the female boomer.

But that's just all speculation, and that at one point, at one time, in some place, they knew one another. (And don't ask about the charger. Masturbation central kids. Take some lessons.)

Anyways, this is just something I'm trying out. Tell me if you think it's worth pursuing or not. Might do a whole series on them.

Peace out,
Lady P.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own L4D and L4D2. Those belong to the respective owners at Valve. (but really, if I did, the smoker wouldn't have the lumpy eyepatch. Or would he? Seems like it's part of his charm.)

NOTES: I have not given up on Hellrider, or Love After Death. I am sure, however, that I've given up on the other two, and will take them down sometime within the week. I suggest copy/pasting what you want, because they may, or may not come back up again. Ever.

SHOUT-OUTS: To the ever lovely, ever faithful Athena (Ramen-Is-My-Goddess). This was sort of made, because your obsession with L4D became my obsession, so... think of this as sorta a story written because, and for, you. :D

Also, I swear, no more long intros from here on out. XD

xXx

When the blood dries in my veins, And my heart feels no more pain
I know I'll be on my way, To heaven's door.

End Credits
despedida

Louis looked around the rough construction sight. The night sky was darkened, and the moon shown heavy, like a burdened mother's belly against a black back drop. Clouds couldn't cover the sheer, overwhelming mass of it, but they did keep Louis from seeing the blinking dots he knew were just behind. Dot's he'd look at on many, many occasions, and dreamed about being more than a paper pusher. The sound of the man next to him pumping his gun brought Louis back to now. He certainly was more than just a paper pusher. Leaning back against the unfinished wall behind him, he looked at the two grim covered pistols, and memories of smashing the hilts into soft, moldy heads made him gag, stomach threatening to heave up the last of the not so frozen, frozen dinner he'd had. Hand to his stomach, he groaned, before a strong hand patted his back.

"Hang in there Louis. We're almost to the rooftop." Came the gruff voice of the last person Louis would have ever thought he'd have gotten along with. Brown eyes lifted up, and he looked at Francis. For such a girly name, the man oozed power and... manliness. Over the time they'd been stranded in this Armageddon together, Louis found he was tolerating Francis more and more, when normally he'd have never given the biker a second glance. Personally, he'd never considered himself to ever swing that way, but something about the feeling of safety, it was so seductive. And right now, Francis was safety incarnate. He'd seen the man take a tank on by himself, survive being pummeled through a door, and a dry wall. Falling down a ladder. Choked by smokers. Francis was indestructible in Louis' eyes. And he needed a bit of that in his life. Especially now.

Nodding, Louis let his head hang, and leaned back against the strong hand, letting it comfort him in ways not even his own girlfriend had ever hoped to accomplish. "I'd almost gotten married." Francis said slowly.

"Huh. Well, aren't you lucky you got out of that?" Francis said, taking his hand back to stand up, looking around. It reminded Louis of a guard dog, the way Francis breathed in and out, nostrils flaring under his alert, determined gaze. Louis slowly stood up, noticing how Bill and Zoey were instantly at alert as well. Louis noticed Zoey moving to hide behind Bill, staring down the path they'd come from, having fought their way through the hospital, hoping for some relief. The first sign of what Francis noticed alerted the rest of them.

"Tank!" Bellowed Bill and Francis, as they instantly yanked their larger weapons out, Francis fumbling with his two pistols, keeping close to Francis' back, holding them up with a steady grip he'd accumulated over time, and practice. The ground shook below his feet, the air began to smell putrid. It almost reminded Francis of a college gym locker. Sweaty gym shorts and stinky socks.

But that wasn't the only thing to come after them, and Francis stepped side to side, shotgun pointing in every direction. "Hunter." He growled to Louis, hearing the deafening screech Louis had come to recognize. And fear.

The sweat dripped down his face, and his palms felt clammy. His limbs were soon feeling weak, and he knew he was starting to panic. Wiping an arm over his forehead, he heard the deafening roar and scraping of infected. A lot of them. And they were near the edge. Louis took one look over his shoulder and noticed the drop. "Shit. Shiiiiit." He whispered, looking back ahead of him.

He saw it now. A big, lumbering shadow barreling it's way through the crowd of infected heading their way, tossing running, screeching, foul breathed infected from it's path. Louis tightened his knees, and held up the gun, firing away at the smaller infected heading down their path, while Bill and Francis took on he tank, Zoey helping with her uzi, spraying bullets through the crowd. The smell of putrid blood hit his nose like a gagging wave, but it was nothing to the bone chilling snarl of the smoker. It was quickly followed by Bills bellowing cry, as Louis shot his eyes over, to see the old veteran being dragged through the hoard, the long tongue snaked around his squirming limbs. Louis turned and was trying to fire at the tongue, moving as Zoey covered him.

The sound of bullet firing, deafened him, melting his world into one without sound. Just movement. Bodies crushing together, gnawing for a bite, being shoved back. Something awful and nauseating belched onto him, soaking his shirt to his skin. The hoard in a merciless frenzy. Hands gripping at him, shrunken, decaying bodies pushing closer, breaking each other just for a bite. Going down like flies under the merciless spray from Zoey.

Louis fired up at the smoker on top of the crate, where it held Bill within it's squirming grasp. Louis took aim, fingers sure on the trigger, and he fired. But his bullets missed their target by a lot, shooting into the drywall by the smoker, as Louis went down to the ground. He felt it. The firm body above him, the maniacal screeching. He felt the clawed hands beginning to dig into him as he screamed, moving to try and fire what was on him, but soon the pistols were knocked from his hand and his wrists slashed. The sight of his own free flowing red blood made him scream even louder. This was the end. He could feel it, with every sharp slice through his skin, staring up into the face of the hunter. The euphoric pain killing hormones seeped into his body and his mind muddled as the hardly heard the movements around him. Staring up into the face above him, he had a strange thought.

The hunter must have been a handsome young man. When he was human.

But just as the thought passed, the hunter was suddenly gone, and he tried to look clearer, seeing Francis standing over him. The biker kneeled by him, putting a hand under Louis' head. "You're going to make it! Hold. On." He ground through his teeth, framed by that god awful scratchy beard. Louis coughed, and turned to press his face into the warm wrist, hearing nothing, seeing nothing but Francis' heady scent. Like spice and sweat. His breath labored, while he felt Francis wrapping him up with the medkit he knew the biker must have been saving for himself. Feeling a groan bubble out from his throat, he lifted his head partially to look up at Francis, reaching a bloodied hand up to the man's face, and touched his chin. Francis' brown eyes snapped over to him, and he blinked a few times.

"We're getting us out of here. Come on." He said, sliding arms under him, and pushing himself to his feet, looking over to the others.

"B-bill?" Louis rasped out, trying to look around, but everything looked dim. Dark. Faded, washed out. He felt the veteran's hand on his shoulder, and relaxed under the touch, head lolling back and forth, looking over to him, seeing he was no worse for wear, damn cigarette back in his mouth, lopsided, cocky smirk on his face. "I thought the smoker-"

"Damn thing just suddenly let me go. Jumped off the side of the building, for no reason." Bill told him, while Zoey looked back in their direction.

"Hey guys, hate to be a bummer, but we should really find another place to hole up, till Louis is back on his feet." She said, holding her gun steady, looking down the hall where the infected had come from, piles of their putrid bodies around them, like carcasses at a slaughter. Like the roman arenas.

Francis agreed whole-heartedly, and trudged after Bill, who was winding them deeper into the construction floor, and away from the edge of the building, to look for a place to hole up in. Louis felt the gentle sway of Francis' arms, and the warm heartbeat under the strong chest he had the honor of being curled against, looking out over Francis shoulder to the edge of the building that was slowly becoming further and further away to him.

Why did the smoker jump?

xXx

When my mind stops thinking, And my eyes stop blinking
I hope somebody's there
When my heart stops beating, And my lungs stop breathing in air
I hope somebody cares.

Ben didn't think anymore. He just reacted. His long tongue shot out to strangle victims, much like a boa constrictor, before he'd devour his meal, saliva dripping down his chin like a river at the thought of such a delicious meat right at hand. Gnashing his teeth down as best he could, around the long appendage, he dragged his victim to him, claws ready to finish the job. It was a feeding ground and the smell of fresh blood had his mind go insane with need. Hearing the shots to the side of him, he pause for a moment. Eyes flickered to the source, finding the man already on the ground, and he cackled, watching hunter tear into his next meal with a feverish lust.

Turning back to the man in his grasp, he tightened his tongue, watching as the air was slowly being pushed from his aching lungs, the man yelling and kicking. He saw the woman try to get to them, but she was busy with the rest of the hoard. The tank already keeping that one man busy. Seeing the one who acted more animal than human dance around with the Tank, he snickered and went back to his planned meal, seeing other... lesser infected daring to try and take bites. Roaring out, he kicked them in their measly little heads. How dare they bother his tasty meal with their disgusting fingers. After kicking several of them back, he dragged the body to him, and dug his hands into the arms, sniggering as he smelled the fresh skin, heart picking up from it's sluggish pace.

But then something stopped. And he heard it, or rather, he no longer heard it. Eyes flicking up, to see Hunter missing, and that... beast man looming over Hunter's spoils. His eyes widened, and he looked around for the dead body, tongue recoiling from his own meal. Where was Hunter? Then he knew it. If Hunter's body wasn't on the roof... he shoved his meal aside, and lept over the hoard and the woman, heading for the edge. The fact that they were several stories up in the air didn't occur to him. The fact that if he looked out, he could see the entire city didn't affect him. None of it did. The only thing that mattered... was Hunter. Over the edge, he went down, eyes widening at the body far below him, his tongue diving out at an incredible speed, wrapping around the flailing body, and using it to drag their bodies closer. Slow Hunters speed, quicken his.

He felt their bodies collide, and his arms wrapped tightly around the squirming creature, as he unwound his tongue, and looked around him wildly. Feeling Hunters gurgling nuzzles into his shoulder helped Ben's resolve, as he opened his mouth, tongue flying out, to wrap tightly around a pole. Gripping Hunter closer, he felt their drop through his mouth as well as the current around them, and he knew he was getting to the end, waiting for his tongue to save them, eyes widening, heart picking up, arms gripping tighter. The tightening of his tongue showed the end—then it snapped right out of his mouth. No pause, no bob. Like he'd never tossed it out in the first place, and the gurgling scream of pain from his throat alerted Hunter, who looked up, seeing the tongue flopping like a rope they'd missed.

His eyes looked up to Ben, and he gave a crooning growl, trying to show sympathy for the pain he knew Ben must be feeling at the moment, the smoker looking down to him, as he twisted their bodies, so Hunter didn't see the ground coming up to him. A gurgling growl came from his throat, as he leaned down and rubbed his face into his Hunter's, who nuzzled back, crooning, and growling. Silent apologies were shared, as they hugged one another, and in one last moment before the end, Ben opened his eyes, looked down to Hunter, and pressed their cold lips together, feeling sharp teeth cut the soft skin between their mouths. He felt the instant reply, as their bodies wormed together tightly, holding one another. Between their mushed lips, Ben cried, his heart, his very soul aching when he heard the growling form gruff words for his ears alone,

"I love yo-"

Ellis pulled out his gun, looking around the street around him. He smelt a smoker. And a Hunter, nose wrinkling up. "Hey, Nick you smell that?"

"Yeah. Smells like your mom's cooking." Nick retorted, as he walked beside the energetic young man, looking down at his suit jacket, and growling about how it looked stained up. Ruined, really. "God damn it, I just got this thing." He muttered, trying to rub the blood splatter in the white jacket out, dirty fingers only making it worse. He jerked back, when he felt a large hand rub over his head, and he glared down at Ellis, almost daring him to touch his hair again. "What the fuck was that for, overalls?"

The boy grinned, and shrugged. "You had some brains in your hair." He said, before looking ahead, trying to pinpoint the infected. They smelled strong... but he knew they couldn't be close... he didn't hear them. Unless they were the special ops of infected, then Nick was screwed. Special Ops guys didn't like con men.

"Gross, Ellis." Nick huffed, and reached up to check, finding nothing there, and he looked about ready to punch Ellis in the back of the head, before the boy stopped.

"Nick! Lookit!" Ellis exclaimed, his bright eyes dancing for Nick, as he pointed to the two smashed bodies in the middle of the street, right before Mercy Hospital. They'd missed the ambulance barely, and were laying in a curled heap, tangled up together, the hunter's face staring up to the sky. "Wowee. Them hunter's got some green eyes, Nick. I never seen an infected with green eyes a'fore!" He said, crouching by the two mangled bodies, pulling out his pistol to poke them.

"Ellis, stop poking the meat sacks and let's keep moving before Coach eats all the food in the storage unit." The older man bit out, stepping over to grab Ellis by the back of his shirt and haul him to his feet.

"Man, Nick, why they all snuggled up like that?"

"They were wrestling and someone pushed them off the roof, now let's go."

"Damn. Hey, Nick, when we get infected, think we'll go like that? Best buds messing around, to be pushed off a roof together?"

Nick stopped, to look at Ellis with the most incredulous expression on his face, and he opened his mouth to say something, stopped, then tried again. What the fuck was going through that boy's head? Shaking his head, the con man decided it was best to not try and figure out Ellis' brains, and he turned to keep leaving. "Only when you grow boobs."

The southern hick laughed, and trotted after him, saying, "Man, that's a funny word. I'll tell you, this one time Keith and I-"

"Ellis... shut up."

xXx

I can feel something happening I've never felt before
Hopeless dreams will start dragging me away from Heaven's door.

"Ben!"

Ben turned around, looking for the boy he knew was calling for him, catching the spry man hopping off the top of his truck, down next to him. Looking at him with a raised brow, Ben took in Hunter's appearance. Shaggy black hair, a handsome... almost pretty face, to match the broad shoulders that melted down into slender hips. Long legs, he knew were strong, having seen the boy swimming before. But that luscious body was hidden beneath a pair of baggy cargo pants and a navy blue hoodie... and...

"What's with the duct tape?" Ben asked, lighting another cigarette, to pop into his mouth, blinking down at Hunter with a questioning expression. The younger man laughed, and looked down.

"You like? I'm thinking of making it a new fashion statement. You know, like those duct tape suits?" He said, patting where the bands were around on his wrists and upper arms. "I think it looks pretty legit." Ben had to admit, it didn't look half bad. For a clown. Dragging in a deep breath, he blew out smoke as his answer, Hunter gagging and waving a hand back and forth. "Aw, man you know I hate that stuff. Not in the face."

Ben smirked, and leaned against his truck, putting the cancer stick back between his lips. "Then don't say stupid things."

"It wasn't stupid!" Hunter snapped, looking up at Ben. He didn't know why he hung out with Ben. He was exactly the kind of guy he didn't like. Lean as a bean pole, large hands that felt warm when they were patting your head. Dark red hair that was unkempt and pulled back into a ponytail, only adding to the greasy druggie look that was enhanced by the faded green button up shirt over the white tank, a silver chain around his neck, and pants that were probably waist high slacks with a thin, cheesy leather belt. And don't even get Hunter started on Ben's shoes. But... when he looked back up to Ben's jaunted face, and saw those deep blue eyes... he had to forgive him. Blue eyes that had seen too much of the world, spoke of a pain deeper than one Hunter even knew. He'd heard a bit of what Ben faced at a day to day basis, but he also knew he didn't know jack shit.

And it was that pity that drove him to know the jerk more. "Hey, Ben... Riley is having another Halo session this afternoon-"

"I don't like Halo."

"I was just inviting you, you dick!" Hunter snapped, as he crossed arms over his chest. Forget pity, he was just going to go leave. Turning around he started to stop off, when he stopped, feeling a warm hand on his shoulder, and he blinked, turning to look up to Ben, his eyes curious. The familiar scent of cigarettes and honey assaulted his nose, and he felt his heart pick up, seeing that familiar cocksure grin on Ben's face.

"Alright, alright... I'll go. But only for you." He said, reaching up to ruffle Hunter's hair, watching the boy eep in distress, before turning to walk around him. Hunter grinned at getting his own way, and he trotted after him, elbowing Ben's side, getting the boy to grunt.

"I knew you were a softie." He teased, winking up at the other man who snorted in reply, flicking the cigarette away and pulling out another one.

"Hardly." He replied, eyes falling down a bit, as he savored every time Hunter's body bumped into the side of him, and he looked down, smiling weakly at the top of Hunter's head, hearing him chatter on, and on about something or other. There was a faint thought of reaching over and taking the other man's hand, his fingers aching to touch, to feel. But he knew it wasn't accepted in this society... wasn't... allowed. He wasn't allowed to be free to reach a hand up, stroke Hunter's cheek, see how soft it really was. Wasn't allowed to wrap an arm around those strong shoulders, and bring Hunter close, breathe in his scent of oranges and chlorine. Wasn't allowed to dip him back... taste lips he was dying to feel against his own. He'd never be able to tell Hunter how he felt.

And it made the hopeless feeling grow deeper inside himself. He'd found the one person he'd actually want to spend the rest of his life with, and he couldn't. Fuck society, he growled in his mind.

"Ben?" Hunter asked, looking up to him, as Ben snapped out of his revery, looking down into the largest green eyes he'd seen. Honest eyes. Warm, reliable eyes.

"Yeah?"

"You were growling at Riley." He said calmly, as Ben looked over to see...

Dayuuuum. "This is, Riley?" Ben asked, seeing the fat kid before him, with bulging rolls hanging over his sides, massive pimples looking ready to explode on that face... a face he was sure not even a mother could love.

Hunter nodded, as Riley sniffed deeply, trying to keep the runny nose from falling down too much. "Who's this Hunt?"

"My friend, you know, Ben?" Hunter grinned, as he instantly chattered to Riley about Ben. The smoker thought he should be embarrassed, but really, he felt flattered, smug even. Staring at the fat kid who nodded along dumbly, he watched as oinker held up a hand, and said he got it, turning to let them in. As Hunter started in for the house, Ben swooped down to whisper into his ear,

"You know, it's sad to see an eating disorder get out of hand like that."

Hunter laughed, as he lightly pushed at Ben's shoulder, before turning to lead him inside, reaching back to grab Ben's hand without a thought. The smoker's eyes widened, as he looked down to the lithe fingered hand gripping his own, and his heart hammered slightly. Feeling the smooth, cool palm against his own, it was almost as if Hunter had laid a sweet balm against his ravaged soul, and he looked humbled by the touch, gripping back. He desperately wished the moment wouldn't end, and they could remain like that for forever. Best friends.

"I love you." Ben whispered to Hunter under his breath, wondering if he'd ever, someday, hear those words spoken back to him.

xXx

So, here it is. The end. So, tell me what'cha think.
Worth pursuing, not worth it, ect.
BE HONEST. :D

And yes. I know.
Nick and Ellis were NOT near Mercy Hospital, but you know what?
ARTISTIC LICENSING BITCHES! :D

And click the damn review button.
It's laying there, practically begging you to push it's button.
So, what are you waiting for hot shot? Do it already.

P L A Y L I S T
"End Credits ft. Plan B" by Chase and Status
"Despedida" by Shakira
"Disease" by Matchbox Twenty
"Everything You Want" by Vertical Horizon
"Funhouse" by P!nk
"How Far We've Come" by Matchbox Twenty
"Mad World" by Tears For Fears
"Otherside" by Red Hot Chili Peppers
"Rama Lama (Bang Bang)" by Roisin Murphy
"Under The Bridge" by Red Hot Chili Peppers