I do not own Left 4 Dead. If I did the Witch would be playable.
Sitting Innocence
Why am I still here?
She remembered it, remembered it so vividly she wanted to tear the memories from her head. The icy wind provided no comfort for her; she wailed out, for what purpose even she did not fully understand. The echo of the wail came back; penetrated her ears, and out of fright she wailed louder, for she could not understand the concept of echoes.
Flashbacks of the strangled screaming, the hurried footsteps, most of all the panic, hit her hard. They filled her with a hatred so strong she wished that she were not even human.
If she could ever be called human again.
Why do I still breathe?
Talon-like fingers slowly pulled away the tangled mess of bloody hair out of her face. It was pitch-black out, although that meant nothing to her. The red eyes that flickered to and fro in fright could easily penetrate the cloak of darkness.
A shuffling figure passed by her line of view. The line of view she'd had for as long as she could recall. The others who groaned along every single lonely day of their never-ending existence were not like her. They did not feel, could not evoke the harrowing memories of pain like she could.
Why am I treated like this?
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. The others tensed as a total of four beating hearts filled the room. They were so loud they almost drowned out her wailing. Almost.
Footsteps, speech, breathing. They were undoubtedly humans; they were undoubtedly ready with their guns. The small objects that exploded out of their guns knocked down the others effortlessly. However, she did not know what the objects felt like. Every human that had come near so far had avoided her, becoming quiet as so not to disturb her.
Had she not been filled with jealously and rage every time a living, breathing human came within her line of view, she would have felt gratitude towards them.
Why did they not get the same fate?
The humans were coming dangerously close. The light tore through the darkness, temporarily blinding her. She felt the same envy and hatred fill her from head to toe as their beating hearts became increasingly louder.
She rested her fingers on the frosty ground, and pushed herself slowly up onto her feet, something she had never done in this state. Her wails became warning growls as she writhed around. Acting on impulse and instinct, she flung herself at the nearest human, the nearest radiating warmth.
She slashed at the human's chest; crimson red splashed in all directions. The objects embedded themselves into her for the first time. Although they gave her indescribable pain, that was nothing compared to the emotional pain that had swirled and entrapped her mind as she had sat there howling for what had felt like eternity.
The new sensation gave new experiences. The humans were shouting incoherent sentences as they shoved more of those small objects in her skinny frame. The one that lay underneath her became limp, and the other human's shouts were even louder.
Why was nothing worth it?
Her instincts had suddenly become bored, now that her prey's heart had slowly strangled to a what she'd done, her monstrous thoughts swept away; they were instead replaced with regret. She was consumed in more pain than she ever had been before.
Clutching her head with her blood-drenched talons, she ran aimlessly around, screaming. It was no longer her usual screams. They were throat-deep, and they were cries of despair, self-loathing. The small objects were making her grow weaker, more tired.
As she took her last frantic step and collapsed in a heap on the stony ground, the pain that had furiously gripped her started to fade away. One last glimpse of the human's feet made her come to realise the fact of the situation. What she had thought impossible had become possible.
She was dying.
She could no longer see or hear. She could only feel as the wind whispered around her lying frame. Gratitude for the humans finally came. They had saved her from herself.
Thank you, were her dying thoughts. I was never truly taken away from being human.