The Apocalypse
A/N: First Left 4 Dead fanfic, let's see how it turns out ;)
Chapter 1: The Insane
A lone man walks through the city. Not a soul in sight, save for the random crow in the distance. We take a look at the man, and find that he is wearing a bloodied orange straight jacket. He has white pants, that have been stained beyond any cleaning supply's power.
You can see a smile upon his face, walking with a slight limp. He starts giggling. The giggling soon turns into laughter. The laughter gets louder, and louder, drowning out the crow in the distance.
A roar is heard. He clenches something in his hand. It's a shotgun. He brings it up, pointing it at another person. Only this person is different. He is staggering across the street, with blood pouring down his mouth. He looks starving, as if he hasn't eaten in months.
He sees the man, bears his teeth, and sprints to him. The man in the orange jumpsuit is un-phased. He doesn't bother shooting, holding up the shotgun in a still menacing manner. His laughing hasn't stopped. Right as the sprinting man got within a mere two centimeters from the barrel of the weapon, it fired.
This was only the beginning. Soon, a monstrous roar was heard. He looks behind him, and sees a mob of other humans, looking quite like the one that he just murdered.
His laughing subsides into giggles again, and he starts running. He doesn't even bother looking back, since another mob was on his left. He looks to his right, and another. His only direction was straight, and that route was blocked off by a giant, "tank" like being.
The man is still giggling, and running. He acts as if he is running towards the ice-cream truck when he was five. But this situation is not as forgiving as that. He was most likely going to die.
He starts running faster, and faster, closing the gap between him and the humongous beast. It screams at him, picks up a piece of debris, about the size of a car, and hurls it towards the man in the orange straight jacket.
Then, the man does the unthinkable. He jumps over the debris that was thrown at him, gets the shotgun, and aims it right at the "shrunken," for lack of a better word, head of the beast, and fires. The entity falls without struggle, being bested by a man half its size.
Never actually stopping during that brief battle, he continues running. He eluded death, as if it was a mere theory. He looked as if he were a god, unable to die.
But he was no God. He still had his limits. He started to slow down, letting the enemies behind him gain on his position. He was losing stamina, and he knew it.
But throughout the entirety of this nightmare, he never stopped laughing. He is still giggling, letting a hiccup out every now and then.
He turns around, and starts to stare at the monsters. He stares at them, hiccups a little, and points his middle fingers at the crowd. His last words to them were:
"SAYANORA YOU UGLY PIECES OF SHIT!"
With that, an explosion blows the ground underneath the mob of hell-creatures. Blood and shrapnel from the explosion fly everywhere. The man is still un-phased, despite getting a cut on his cheek from the flying rock and metal.
He puts is finger on the top of the cut, runs it down the length of it, and licks the blood that was collected. He was an insane person, who's only thought about the plague that is ravaging the country, is to kill.
The line between survivor and murderer is very thin, and this man crossed it. And to think, last week, he was a business man, with a wife and three kids. How easily it is to lose yourself in a hell on Earth.
But hell, hell would be nicer. Here, you are alive and suffering. Welcome to the Apocalypse, my friends.