Author's Note
Hi! Sorry about the wait, but I've had to dive into bushes, go under tables, go up creaky ladders, climb up a wall, and go into my attic. Its been a tough day. Oh, I don't own Left 4 Dead, but I do own my OCs, blah blah blah. Okay, I've decided to change the ending on the last chapter in this chapter, if that makes any sense. But I think it will make this a lot more interesting. So, enjoy!
(Joeth's POV)
I wish that last part was true. Really, I've never wanted anything that bad. But the truth is the truth. Besides, I'm not that good a story teller. Anyway...
(Violet's POV)
The blast from the grenade sends Joeth flying back. From the ash of the grenade comes four people carrying guns and other things. Three of them go after Joeth, and fourth one kneels in front of me. He's a teenager, about my age, with short brown hair and hazel eyes.
"You okay? That hunter didn't hurt you now did he?" he asks me.
"No, he's my friend, he wouldn't hurt me." I say, how could they think that Joeth would hurt me?
"Well, thats not your friend anymore, hes a hunter now." he replies.
"No, really he wouldn't, he- what the hell are you doing to him?" I say, looking at the boy's friends, they look like they're tying him up.
"Joeth!" I scream, hoping he'll be okay. I see Joeth look at the two people circling him, then I see him give two long punches to the sides, making the two go flying into the wall. His fangs grow and he bites through the thick chains connecting to the two people. He turns to face me, about ready run. But a sharp gunshot sends him flying to the side, slumping against the wall. The shooter then walks calmly out of the shadows, reloading his pistol.
"You bastard! You shot Joeth!" I shout at him, but the hat covering his eyes hides his reactions, and he walks past me without a word. The other two come out, rubbing their heads.
"I've never seen a hunter so smart; usually they just jump at us." the girl says. She has chocolate colored skin and frizzy black hair in little curls.
"Yeah, but we got him. But did you see those eyes? And that mouth. What the hell was that thing?" the boy asks, his pale skinned and black hair shining in the light.
"His name was Joeth, he was my friend, and a-" I'm cut short by another voice.
"It doesn't matter what the hell it was if its dead now." says another boy as he emerges from the smog. "Now we should get outta here before more of em come." he looks at us with steely black eyes, then turns on heel and walks away, and the others follow behind him. The boy next to me glances at me, hazel eyes soft, then grabs my hand and starts to lead me away. I whisper Joeth's name one last time, just hoping that he'd hear me and just pop up out of nowhere. I look for blood red eyes and a Cheshire grin, but none come. I look sadly at the shadows until we turn the corner and it disappears from sight.
(Joeth's POV)
I can't breath. I clutch my arm to stem the bleeding until I can find something else. I've never been shot before, and I'd actually had nightmares about it. I gotta tell ya, a bullet is a zombie's worst nightmare. So, thanks to the bastard with the pistol, my nightmare is now real life. Well, I got lucky. He wasn't shaken, but I could tell he was unsteady with the gun, and he missed my head by a long shot. But, to say, the guy with the gun, he was familiar. I couldn't see his face, but I could sense I knew him. Oh well. I take a deep breath, then urge myself to stand. I wish Madle was here. She would know how to help. But my thoughts bring me back to Zak, my lost brother. They tend to do that. A lot. But despite my mind trying to get off the subject I can still imagine Zak telling me to "take it like a man".
"I'm trying to take it like a man, Zak. But I just got f&in shot!" I mutter under my breath as I struggle to stand up. I finally stand up, only to fall back again. I groan as blackness creeps in around my eyesight. The blackness covers my sight after a moment, and I go unconscious in the the black alley.