...This whole story originated when me and my friends on live were playing Left 4 Dead 2. We got bored and started shooting each other.
So I turned that experience into...this. I wrote this quickly, but I still hope you like it and reveiw. :P This is going to be really short.
I set it at the same place where we started to shoot eachother, just because I felt like it. o3o
If you make it to the end, I have another note on the bottom.
Readers beware: This is probably pretty disturbing. If you don't like character death, don't read. You have been warned.
I do not own anything. It all belongs to Valve.
TAG
[Nick's POV]
How long has it been since I had a good sleep? Two weeks? I'm irritable, more so than I ever was before. And hungry, too...and these zombies...these mother fucking zombies...they're not making things any better. Neither is my lopsided group, who thinks talking will help boost our confidence. Allow me to explain; there's an old man that goes by Coach, which I'm surprised has made it this far. There's a young woman by the name of Rochelle, who was the one who suggested talking would help (I now have a personal grudge against her.) Then there's a dumb-downed redneck named Elis who comes from god-knows-where and who dreams of a man named Jimmie Gibbs. All of their talking gives me headaches, but Elis's...his voice alone is a malignant tumor made of razor blades which sticks to my brain to cause me immense pain...and irritation. On top of that, I felt sick, feverish.
"Everyone, get in the elevator!" Coach's heavy voice brought me back none-to-gracefully to reality. I entered the glass elevator and Rochelle pressed a flashy red button that shut the doors.
"So...anyone have a plan?" Rochelle asked, turning away from the control panelto face us with uncertainty.
Elis spoke up, much to my distaste. "Ya see that race car there? That's Jimmie Gibb's car! If we could just get enough gas, we could fill that baby up and drive outa here! Oh man, Jimmie Gibbs would be..."
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the voice that caused most of my migranes. The one I had grew more painful with each word that tumbled out of his mouth. I opened my eyes just a little to peek out through the glass. It seemed like this elevator was moving unrealisticly slow. I saw zombies meandering absentmindedly around on the ground below.
Then, I looked towards Elis. Him and Rochelle both were bantering, and the pounding in my head just intensified tenfold. I closed my eyes again, my hands griping my gun tighter. Between the zombies, Elis, not having a proper meal or sleep...I just couldn't take it anymore!
Before I could say or do anything, the doors suddenly opened and Elis, Rochelle, and Coach burst into the mall. Rochelle grabbed the closest gas can and ran like hell towards the car.
Coach paused briefly, turning to me. "I'll protect Rochelle as she makes her way there, you go with Elis so he can get a can. Good luck!" He darted off to catch up with Rochelle.
I innerly groaned, and took out my annoyance on a few infected that came towards me. I jogged a few feet behind Elis and watched as he picked up a can and raced past me on his way to the car.
I paused and watched him.
Do it.
I lifted my gun shakily, looking down the scope at Elis, then looking at the red gas can under his arm.
Shoot the can. Blow it up. Let the little bastard burn, he caused me to happen.
The malignant tumor migrane whispered and echoed throughout my mind. It's plan...didn't seem like a bad one.
I smiled and shot, hitting my target right on. Elis burst into flame, and I could hear his scream as well as the nearby infected that happened to be close to him.
I reloaded my gun and aimed again just as Elis tumbled out of the fire, screaming and flailing his arms. I shot again and hit him in the chest, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. He didn't move and was still on fire, and I smiled wider.
I heard Rochelle scream in the background and figured she had seen, but when I looked it wasn't that she had seen that she screamed, it was because of a Charger that had her pinned and was bashing her against the ground. Coach started to run towards the Charger with a machete.
Kill him too! Do it! The migrane screamed, and I obeyed, firing a bullet into his skull. With the momentum of his movement and his quick death, he hit the ground and rolled, stopping a few feet away from the dying Rochelle.
The Charger lifted Rochelle up and bit into her like a very hungry human would a chicken leg.
I felt very accomplished as the migrane dissapeared.
A/N: ... DON'T HATE ME. D: I wanted to try something new in my writing, where someone goes crazy. I hope it worked out. Reviews would be appreciated, I can handle flames, but I don't encourage them. :/