Chapter One;

The Thrill of the Kill

The world had fallen to chaos. As the world fell into the clawed hands of the un-dead; human kind was reduced to a few desperate Survivors in the fray and a few million in safe houses across the world's major continents. Families were ripped apart at the seams and the billions of American citizens were suddenly reduced to a few hundred thousand rag-tag fighters. The smoke of hundreds of fires rose to the sky and gathered in massive black plumes. The 'zombies', as the survivors had deemed them, were everywhere.

There were the common and the uncommon. The commons stumbled about with no direction or literate thought, just waiting for some form of living creature to wander by and be torn apart. The uncommons were a bit more clever, setting traps where buildings allowed them room to and gathering in numbers. Either way they all waited for the same thing. A kill.

One strain of the uncommon was called the Hunter by some, Predator by others, Hooded-thing by even more, and maybe even those crazy emo kids with the scream. They were the terror to the uninfected and wrecked havoc on all who crossed their path. It was almost impossible to avoid them.

Those who were changed into them had it even worse than those who were hunted.

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He gazed down at clawed hands. Confused he slowly flexed the razor-like fingers, watching them move. He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. Things would never be the same. Things couldn't ever been the same. He hurt all over. Groaning in pain and leaning against the nearby brick wall he balled the hands into fists. What was happening? One moment there was darkness and then there was pain and colors and light and noise and a rotting smell. Before the darkness there had been…nothing he guessed. And after everything hurt. Every noise hurt his mind. The colors practically blinded him. The light felt like it was melting his skin. The smell was foul and he couldn't stand it.

His fists began to shake as the pain intensified. The groan turned to a high-pitched shriek. Then the shriek faded into a soft whimper. Blinking he turned his head slowly, ignoring the new waves of white-hot pain. He was alone. He could smell others close by, but they didn't matter. Slowly he pulled himself to his feet, relying heavily on the wall for support. His legs shook as he took one step after another. His whole body argued with each movement. His lungs threatened to give up as he stumbled along. Panting and struggling the figure finally reached the shade of a peculiar green box. Sinking back down to his knees and letting his muscles all relax the newly created 'un-dead' slumped over.

The darkened eyes slid shut as the breathing slowed to short puffs of air. The hands slowly unclenched and relaxed. The neck lolled to the side, the owner enjoying the relief shade brought. Without the light he could think straight. Blinking back to reality the creature tried to make sense of things. If the coolness of the darker areas were what it took to help him get through movements then he'd have to bring it with him. Glancing at the box again he knew he couldn't bring the shade with him. Feeling a bit distraught he sighed, thinking hard.

There had to be something to help…

Looking about himself, the 'zombie' spotted a rectangular hole in the brick wall that was within the reach of the shadows. Struggling to his feet he scrambled over to the hole and looked in. MORE darkness. With a happy growl tugging at his lips he slipped in. His eyes no longer hurt and his skin quit burning. Without the bright colors he could focus. The smell was worse, but he would gladly trade that for the comfort of the shadows. Resting again he let his eyes adjust.

He saw everything clearly from his resting place. All kinds of clutter were strewn about, but that didn't interest the creature. What caught his attention was another hole like the last one. If the first one had caused comfort then another may eliminate the pain completely.

One last time, struggling to his feet and hobbling over to the opening, poking his neck around the corner, looking in, and observing the scene: Vaguely familiar bits of things were hanging in the tiny place beyond the hole. Not knowing why, he reached out and closed his hand around one of the things. It was soft and almost comforting. Giving the object a good yank he was pleased and a bit surprised to find it in his hand and no longer attached to the top of the little place.

Examining the object a deep part of his instincts told him this was the answer he'd searched for. Without thinking he hooked a claw through the metal on the front and pulled down.

THREE DAYS LATER

The human was far ahead. That didn't bother the creature in the slightest. In fact, it only made him enjoy the hunt more. Dropping to all fours and rocketing ahead would place him and his prey face to face. But he would wait. Oh would he wait.

The commoners were giving the prey such a hard time that the predator was beginning to worry about the chances of getting a meal. But then the human threw something and those pests chased after the blinking object. The hunter had to fight off the urge to scream at them for being so mindless. It didn't matter though. They were all too ignorant to listen anyways. Still he waited.

The human staggered forward, coming closer. Just the smell of the prey's blood was driving the hunter to just jump now and take him out. 'Just go!' His instincts screamed. 'The prey is weak! Kill now!' But what fun was there in jumping weak prey? The hunter still waited.

It was there… it was RIGHT in front of his hiding place on the top of a roof. Just a jump would have the thing at his mercy—or lack there of. But he waited longer.

NOW! The prey was running now. Fast. It's back was turned and it's strength had returned for a while. Now the hooded creature dropped to all fours and charged ahead noiselessly. Several other attacks had taught him to keep silent and swift. Shrieking his battle cry ruined all surprise. It was far more fun to take the prey out before it even knew what was happening.

Leaping through the air with one last powerful surge to his legs had the hunter taking out the prey. With another sick scream he plunged his great hands into the prey, ripping and tearing ruthlessly. The prey screamed. The prey tried to fight. That did the human no good, the predator was far too powerful and the prey far too weak.

After killing the human the hunter sank back on his haunches, chest rising and falling in great breathy pants. Feeling a bit tired; the creature ate slowly, letting the thrill of the kill sink in.

Totally rejuvenated by the kill the hunter rose to two legs and sauntered off, leaving whatever scraps behind for the commoners.

He wasn't sure of where he was going. He hadn't been sure for the past bit of his life. Three times the sun had disappeared and reappeared and still it seemed like it was just his first day. There hadn't been need for sleep and there hadn't been need to stop, so why should he?

Now it was different. His muscular legs ached and the wonderful hood he had above his head was bloodied from the previous kill. His hands were sore. His eyes were tired. It was time to rest.

The nearby hole in the wall would do. He slipped in and curled up beneath the window. Tired and satisfied with the past kill, the hunter let himself rest.

Tomorrow would bring more.

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Yayy!

Mmkay there's the first chap of my first L4D fiction.

If you don't review, I don't continue;

Simple as that.

If you DO review a lot then we'll get along just fine :D