I made a little L4D story. I have been reading a lot of L4D fanfics and I decided I wanted to do one. There is a bit of femmeslash in here so if yer not into that then fuck off.
I took this down because I noticed many mistakes I didn't catch before and I fixed them.
Yeah.
Sobbing filled the dingy room; the walls were covered in ripped photographs and the floor covered in broken glass and paper. Random tables and chair were turned over or broken and among them were the abandoned personal items of people that had once been there. In the center of this sat a sobbing girl.
Her skin was a sickly grey color and hair once fine was matted and dirty. Tear leaked out of glowing red eyes and she sat hunched over on the floor. Her cries filled the building, leaving a hollow echo behind them.
Witch they called her. Survivors would accidently stumble on to her and say, "Shit! A witch! Flash lights off!" or "Don't startle the witch!" Their words made her sad; did everyone think she was a monster?
Witch. Witch. Witch. Witch.
Their voices chanted mockingly at her inside her mind. Her sobs deepened; her clawed hands holding her face. Even fellow infected avoided her for fear she would be startled and attack them. The witch remembered nothing about her life before as a human, only her painful transformation. Sometimes she would try to think back and try to remember. A name is what she wanted. All she wanted was to remember her name.
The sad zombie knew that she had to of had one; everyone had a name. Her grey face would scrunch up in concentration as she tried to remember but eventually she would just give up and go back to crying.
There was a noise of shuffling in the room causing the infected to look up slightly. Before her stood a female hunter, crouched as she walked carefully towards the other infected. The hunter's sweat shirt was black with big white letter that were no longer legible on the back. Shaggy black hair stuck hung in front of yellow eyes that gazed at her curiously. The witch sniffled, holding her claws in front of her eyes as she started to sob again.
The hunter let out a small growl, moving closer to the witch. "I know you." The creature growled to the witch, ready to pounce away if the other should attack. The witch looked out from between her claws but said nothing, simply studying the other. The hunter took another step forward, "I know you." She growled again. The witch let out a sob, "No you don't!" she cried. "I don't even know me!" the zombie wailed.
To the ears of the uninfected the conversation between the female hunter and the witch sound like a mixture of gumbles, growls, and wails (though that was mostly the witch). Zombies were more animal-like then human, but they still had some intelligence to them. While mostly relying on instinct and their senses they were able to communicate between each other and solve small problems like opening doors sometimes and moving things out of their way.
The hunter gave a friendly growl, "Well, I don't know who I am either." She said as she came to sit in front of the weeping zombie, "No one does." The witch looked up, her red eyes filled a grief and pain only witches felt, "I don't want to be alone anymore." The hunter grinned, her large sharp teeth showing, "Okay." She replied and offered her a clawed hand. The witch felt confused and sad, like always, but something about this just seemed familiar. The weeping girl took and hand offered, her large claws making it difficult to grasp the appendage just right.
Outside the building another growl was heard, causing the witches head to snap up. The female hunter looked behind herself, "Quiet." She said as another hunter made his way towards them, "What are you doing?" the other hunter asked, looking warily at the witch who had began to cry again. The female hunter frowned, "I know her." Was all the said. The blonde hunter next to her, also donning a black sweat shirt with a band logo that could no longer be recognized, "Okay." The creature said, staring at the witch.
Soon another special infected came into the room to see what was going on. The black haired girl hunter apparently knew it and explained the situation. The witch let out a sudden cry, startling the other zombies, as faceless people flashed through her memory. She shut her eyes tightly as the vague memories came to her.
Soon red eyes soon opened slightly, looking at the other infected, "I know you." The witch muttered. She really did. They were there before she was infected; before everything went to shit. In front of her sat two hunters and spitter. They were the faceless people from her memories. The witch gave a small smile, "I know you." She repeated.
The female hunter perked up and grinned and toothy grin, "Good." Was all she said and the four left the abandoned building that smelled strongly of coffee beans.
They made home in an old abandoned white house with two floors. The top floor's windows were broken out which made it perfect for the hunters to pounce on their passing prey. The spitter wandered around the house and usually stayed in the downstairs area. For the witch, well, she usually would stay in the front porch and cry, because that is what witches do. Sometimes the spitter would come out and talk to her or bring her something the hunters caught, but she usually stayed inside the house. They became like a family; helping each other and staying together, knowing that it was right thing to do. Knowing that they were meant to be together because they were all each other had.
One day the witch looked up from crying softly as she heard the hunters growl from the windows above. Coming down the road were a group of humans, guns in their hands. The witch continued to cry; she would not attack unless provoked, it was her nature after all. The youngest survivor stopped to looked at the house, moving her long grimy brown hair away from her face, "This is-" she began but buried her face in her hands to cover her sobs. The older girl sighed, "Yeah, we know."
The blonde boy with them frown, "Ssh, I hear a witch." He said, pushing long blonde locks out of his face. The group fell silent creeping closer to the house to see where the witch was.
The witch continued to cry, not noticing how close they were getting. The survivors stopped dead in their tracks when they saw her. The boy gasped softly, "That's-" The older girl held up her hand, "No, that's not her." She said, "That's a monster." The young brunette whimpered and pulled her gun closer to her, "I don't know if I can shoot her and don't call her that." She muttered, whispering the last part mostly to herself. The older one sighed heavily, "Then don't startle her."
Then came a growl as the two hunters lunged at the humans. The survivors screamed, dodging the zombies. "That's fucking them! Those monsters are our friends!" he yelled to the oldest of them. She frowned, "Well now they're zombies and are trying to fucking kill you and then eat you!"
The spitter came out to investigate the noises coming from the front of the house. The zombie let out a shierk and spit acid towards the group, burning the older girl. The younger girl was forced onto the porch as she avoided the acid and bumped into the witch.
She let out a wail and jumped on the girl, ripping her apart with her long claws. She raised his arms in defense, "No! Stop! No!" she continued to yell that as the witch continued to tear her to shreds. Soon the other humans were dead and the girl was close to it. Her blood stained the witches' body and the floor beneath her, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you from turning." She gurgled out, causing the witch to stop her mutilation, "I love you..." And then the girl was dead.
The witch jumped away from her like she had just been burn. Red eyes studied the young girl and she carefully approached the human, setting down beside her. Her long bloody claws ran through the brown hair while the other hand stroked the girl's face gently with one long claw. "I know you!" the witch wailed, pulling the dead human into an embrace and cried. Her friends gathered around her to see what was wrong but quickly back off as she growled at them.
For weeks she would not leave the body of the human girl, even as it began to bloat and rot. The other infected knew it was best to stay away from the body or face the witches' wrath. The smell of rotting flesh began to attract many common infected to the house. The hunters did their best to kill them, seeing as they were pretty weak and keep them away from the witch. They all fed on those common infected for a long time. Each day the witch would hold the girl in her arms and cry, running her claws through the now disgusting brown hair.
The female hunter dropped down next to her and sat down. The two sat in silence for awhile as the witch continued to hold the rotting corpse. Finally the hunter looked at her, "We knew those people." She said, yellow eyes glowing with hurt and confusion. The witch looked up, "Yes." She replied, tears leaking out of her eyes. The hunter looked back into the street and said nothing more.
After a very long time, more humans came; they came to reclaim the land. They were soldiers with guns and armor. By this time the brunette girl's body with only sunken flesh and bones. The long brown hair that the witch loved so much was almost all gone. A group of soldiers came cautiously down the street with their guns at the ready. The witch was crying like usual as they approached the house, holding the body of the girl. "Shit." One of them cursed quietly. "What is it holding?" another whispered. "Looks like a body." Came a reply.
The hunters were quietly perched in the shadows of the upstairs windows, watching the humans. The spitter was inside, but saw the humans frown a window. The witch continued the cry, rocking the body back and forward in her arms. The humans raised their guns and pointed at the witch. "Okay, fir-" but the command was interrupted by the hunter's shriek as they launched themselves out of the window and onto the soldiers. The humans screamed at the sudden attack, scattering like cock roaches. The spitter came out of the house and began to spew her acid on and around the humans. The armor they were wearing seemed to protect them from injury and soon the spitter was dead. At the gunfire the witch became startled and attacked the humans. But just like the spitter before him, the male hunter soon was killed.
The female hunter let out a loud, painful shriek and attacked and killed one of the soldiers before she was killed. The witch killed one human before the soldiers surrounded her and the body of the young girl. She growled at them, her eyes filled with anger and sadness. She knew that her friends were dead and that she was not going make it out of this alive.
With a loud sob she grabbed what was left of the girl and held the corpse close to her and cried a witches' cry. The soldiers seemed confused by this, but they all raised their guns and shot her.
The witch died with a cry and a 'thump' as her body fell on the porch, still holding the body of the young girl.
The humans turned to leave and continue down the street, but one stayed to behind to gaze down at the two corpses. He smiled sadly and took off his helmet to run a hand through dirty black hair, "They're all dead." He muttered, looking around at the corpses. Another guy from his unit came back to see what he was doing.
The man frowned, "Dude?" he questioned.
The black hair man looked up at him, "I grew up in this town. These were my friends." He told the other soldier. With his gun he motioned to the blonde hunter, "When the infection hit, he was the first go get infected. Then he bit her and she turned." He said, motioning now to the female hunter. "Then she got infected." The man whispered, motioning to the spitter.
He looked back at the witch and the girl, "I-I got out of here before she got infected," he muttered, "She didn't get to the plane in time." A lone tear ran down his cheek. The other soldier looked at him sadly and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Sorry man." He mumbled. The black haired soldier shook his head, "Let's get going." He said, running to catch up with the unit. The other soldier stayed behind for a minute, gazing at the witch and the rotting corpse of the girl. He sighed and turned, running towards the wounds of moans and screams of zombies.
They had a job to do here and it was not going to be done easily.