Biscuit and Nutters: Pilot
A/N: Been a long time since I wrote anything. College has been hell and I decided maybe I should get my mind off it once in a while. What better way than to start a new series?
Welcome to my wonderfully awful fan fiction of Left 4 Dead (+ L4D2)! This is the story of two unlikely friends, Biscuit the Smoker and Nutters the Hunter, and their lives as special infected. Not only must they deal with the stress of survivors, the crap from the other infected, but each other.
This series is written as though it were a cartoon or comic. As in often exaggerated, and visually silly action wise. The rating is M due to mature language.
A pilot chapter will be released (which is this... duh). If popular enough (as gets reviews), I will continue this mini-series.
Thank you, and enjoy!
Xoxo, Kitty Sensei
*Cough*... *Hack*... *Wheeze*...
Sounds escaped from a raspy throat and into the moonless night of the swamp. The ground was dampened by a rain that would come and go. Fireflies lit the air and buzzed past heads of the undead. Commons roamed the small little town of wood cabins and murky waters filled with alligators and God knows what else.
*Hu-HAAAAAAAA...*
Slithering up the porch of an abandoned home was a long and slimy tongue, still attached to the grumpy special infected. He rest both elbows upon the wooden railing and stare out into the dark woods. In his grimy fingers he held a freshly lit cigarette. If there was only one good thing that humans left behind in the world, it was some good ol' fashioned nicotine. Bringing it too his lips, he inhaled deeply, but still could not tell the difference between this smoke, and his own that emits from the pores of his body. He sighed before taking a long drag, and let the treasure work it's magic in making him feel better addiction wise.
Another uneventful night. No action, no hilarity from watching the common. They were lame after they got bored swatting at each other. What use were they? All they did was stand around with idiotic expressions and a mouth full of multi-colored drool. Not to mention they were messy slobs that puked practically fifty times a day, and they puked more than they ate.
The smoker grunted, hating his duty as look out more and more. Then again, it was peaceful. Quiet, relaxing. Nothing could possibly make this night-
*grrrrrrrrrrr~*
A deep growl in the distance took him out of his mind for a second. The smoker straitened up and narrowed his eyes, focusing out in the distance.
*Clickclickclick~*
It was getting closer, he could swear he heard nails scraping against wood too. Was there a cat around or something? Couldn't be. He was pretty sure they ate all the animals in this area. All except for the alligators pretty much. Damn those water demons.
*Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrr~*
This was getting annoying, and the smoker clenched his teeth ready to snap at the being responsible.
*Click-*
Closer.
*Click-*
Closer.
*Click-*
The cigarette butt fell from his hand as he turned in a 360, greatly upset. "That does it!" He growled, "I'll give ya-" *Cough* "to the count of three! One! Two-"
"RAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWR!"
A loud thud right in front of him threw the smoker off balance, causing him to stumble back and land smack into the rocking chair behind him. He sat down with a loud huff and blinked, trying to see through the thick clouds in front of him. Soon, the silhouette of a squatting figure could be made out. He stare at it, and it stare back. The figure tilted it's head to the side and lowered itself closer to the ground. It carefully placed one claw in front of the other, approaching the smoker with caution.
Finally, the air cleared enough for him to make out that it was, none other than, a hunter. The smoker frowned, very upset that this guy had no respect and came crashing in. However, this particular hunter didn't look like he was from around here.
Instead of the normal, dark blue hoodie, this one wore a burgundy colored one. The strangest part of his get-up was the tiny pink button in the shape of a bunny's head over his right breast.
The smoker spiked an eyebrow, staring down the hunter who must have been staring back. It was hard to tell since his eyes could not be seen from under his hood.
All was quiet, neither of them spoke. "Uh.." The smoker muttered, and then proceeded to clear his throat. He stood up slowly, and just as he was about to straighten up-
"RAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWR!"
"FUCK! GEEZ!"
"HEY! SUP! HEY!" The hunter screamed at the taller infected, and then smiled a goofy, sharp-toothed grin. The smoker did not respond, and so the hunter took this as a sign to continue, "I'm Nutters!"
"Yeah, no shit." He replied, turning back to the railing and reaching into his pocket for another cigarette.
Nutters made some clicking sound deep in his throat and climbed up on to the wooden railing, staring down the smoker. "No, that's my name! Cool huh! Know why that's my name?"
"I have a faint idea."
"Because I love peanuts!" Nutters responded, lifting his right leg and scratching the back of his own head feverishly, as though he were a canine.
"Well better than my guess-"
"So what were you like before!" The hunter was quick to change the topic.
The smoker really didn't feel like conversing with this moron, but the more he answered, the closer he would be to getting this guy to leave him alone. Or so he figured. "I dunno, I was a nobody who smoked and ate meat, mashed potatoes, biscuits-"
"HEY! Hey Biscuit!" Nutters shouted, making the smoker flinch.
A small awkward silence. The smoker glared at him, "Pardon?"
"I'm gonna call you Biscuit! AND WE'LL BE BEST FRIENDS!"
"Look crazy ass, I'm not-"
"WANNA SEE ME CATCH A FIREFLY?"
And before he could respond, Nutters hopped away with a growl that initiated the start of his new hunt. Biscuit, huh? So that was what he had to deal with? Not cool.
From behind him, he could hear the gargling and groaning of a very familiar college. He turned to see Brian, the head boomer around here. He wore frameless glasses and a green stripped tie that made him appear as though he were pro-slytherin house. The big man made his way to the porch, giving the smoker a small smile before lifting a clipboard.
"So, I see you met the new guy."
"Is he for reals? Nutters?"
"Well, we kinda gave him that name. Dropped on his head when he first changed."
"Figures."
"So, Biscuit-"
"Aw come on man, you know that's not my name."
"Hey, the kid seems to take a liking to you. He wouldn't talk to anyone else."
"Yeah, probably because everyone else avoids him."
The boomer ignored this and looked down at his clipboard. "Well you have the honor of showing him around, get him used to his post."
"Wait, are you telling me he's been assigned to MY unit?"
"Oh gosh will you look at the time? I best be going! Gotta make sure the jockey twins don't startle Wanda on purpose!" As fast as he could, Brian spun around and hurried off despite the weight of his bloated body.
Biscuit watch him leave, very upset with what he has been stuck with. It was then a loud thud from behind him made him jump. He spun around quickly to see Nutters sitting on the railing with his mouth shut and face content.
"...Well? You catch any?"
Nutters said nothing at first, but then smiled as wide as he could, revealing a bright and glowing mouth from the many fireflies he had caught.
Before Biscuit could say anything, Nutters' nose began twitching slightly and his back began arching.
"Ah.. AH.. AH! CHOO!"
He should have seen that coming, but of course, not soon enough. Biscuit was now taking the blow of a missile of fireflies being launched at his face. Buzzing and hissing rang in his ears and all he could see were bright lights as he stumbled back a bit. He signed, bringing his hands to his face to wipe the bugs off.
Through his glowing vision, he saw Nutters beginning to clean himself like he was a cat.
Biscuit sighed, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette, but then realizing he had none left.
He sighed, accepting his fate.
"This is going to be a long, LONG, undead life..."
End of episode 1!
Future possible episodes:
Biscuit and Nutters: Alligators
Biscuit and Nutters: Poker Night
Stay tuned!