Author's Note
Hi! Reaaally sorry! Alright, well, happy belated holidays to all, and happy early New Year's! But for right now, happy New Year's Eve! Okay, I don't own Left 4 Dead, but I do own my OCs...blah blah blah. Eh, okay we left off with Joeth being shot and Violet being taken by some survivors. I think its gonna get a lot better with the other ending to the chapter, or I hope so. Anyway, R&R and enjoy!
"Joeth... Joeth!" I snap awake to see Madle trying to wake me up, and Mel next to her.
"Hi Mel, hi Madle." I say weakly. "Good to see you're okay Mel."
"Yeah, Mel's alive. No thanks to you." Madle says angrily.
"Joeth got shot." Mel quietly sniffs, her black eyes searching my arm. She then gives a sharp poke with her long claw at the bloodstain on my right arm. I give small cry and grab my arm, rolling over slightly. Mel gives a whimper and fresh tears spring to her eyes, which she covers with her murky pinkish hands. She starts crying, and Madle puts her hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. She shoots me a nasty look.
"Great job Joeth, you got Mel crying again." As if on cue, Mel gives a loud sob. "Its okay, Mel, its okay." Madle tells her, ignoring me. I take the chance to crawl away, and look over the side of the building we're on. I would ask how I got up here, but I'm too worried about the girl-Violet was it?. A thought comes to mind, and gritting my teeth, gather the strength I have left-which really isn't much-and stand up.
"And where are you going?" Madle asks me grouchily.
"To find someone." I say quietly, jumping off the roof.
(Violet's POV)
He's in my dreams all the time, with that Cheshire grin and those blood red eyes. Everywhere I look, he's there. And at night, when the shadows start to look like demons about to rip my soul out, I imagine he's there beside me, ready to protect me like a guardian angel. I miss him so much, it hurts. I can tell that the boy who so-called 'rescued' me-Hale- tries to comfort me, but he doesn't understand; he thinks I'm traumatized from him. None of them understand that he's my friend, and when I try to tell them that he's half human, they ignore me. And that damn one with the hat, he never talks. He's the one who shot Joeth. And because of him, he's dead. That's the thing; I don't know if Joeth's dead or not. It kills me every day, the not knowing. I just hope he's okay.
12:00 am
They're all asleep, and once again, Hale sleeps next to me. I hate him. No, I despise him. He took me away from Joeth. I hate him for that reason, and that reason only. And as I look around the camp they've set up in this alley they picked, I realize that I hate all of them for different reasons, but all of them connected with taking me away from Joeth.
I sigh, deciding to look around at my surroundings instead of just glaring at the survivors about whats already been done. My eyes rest on the building in front of me, and as my eyes pass over the shattered and rotten windows, my heart skips a beat and I just manage to stop myself from screaming.
A pair of blood red eyes and a Cheshire grin stare down at me. The face winks, then disappears, only to reappear on the roof. I start to smile as the grin grows wider, then disappears. I look around to see where he is next, only to feel breathe next to me. I swivel my head around, only to see straight into blood red eyes. Despite myself, I grin widely, and throw my arms around him. I don't care if he smells like blood and rotting flesh; I've missed him. I feel one of him arms hug me back, and I see his other one pull his hood off, revealing a grin as big as mine. I let go of him, but maintain eye contact with him.
"Whats up kid?" he asks in a whisper, the gap in his teeth almost making me laugh.
"Well, I thought you were dead for a day or two, but I think that's about it." I tell him quietly.
His smile drops. "I was knocked out in that alley for two days?"
"Yeah, I guess so." I say, shrugging.
He shrugs. "Guess I-" He stops and his ears perk up, his eyes wandering. He pulls his hood back on.
A thought burns into my mind, undoubtedly from Joeth.
"They're waking up." he says, his voice echoing in my head and his eyes wandering along the survivors. His usual Cheshire grin is now in a flat-line frown. "I gotta go." he says, nervous now. He starts backing up, looking at the now waking survivors.
"When will I see you again?" I ask him, worried that I might never again.
"Soon." And that last word before he disappears into the night again echos in my mind for hours.