Fourth
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Connelly had luckily had enough foresight to keep his sneakers on before leaping out of the bushes. The shoes were by this time worse than useless to him, the rubber worn thin, the cloth falling apart and dirty, and the constant friction causing painful blisters on the sides and bottoms of his feet. He was planning on tossing them soon, as the calluses on his feet were so thick that he didn't even need them. But they had finally proven themselves to be useful, as his hind claws were fully out from his recent battle with the hoard. The shoes offered a good disguise, and it would have looked suspicious for him to be running around at dawn barefoot, anyway. His front claws were also out, but he made due with stuffing them in his hoodie pocket.
This was simply to draw off suspicion so that Connelly could make a clean kill. His last experience with survivors was still fresh in his mind, the wound on his shoulder, though mostly healed, still ached. Their purpose was to kill him, so he would have to kill them first. Simple. The fact that he could talk, unlike most hunters, was simply an extra advantage to him.
The survivor would have to be eliminated.
The human was obviously off guard, endlessly blabbing off about one thing or the other. His shotgun was loosely held over a t-shirt clad shoulder. It was clear that he was in shape, no doubt from working on a farm, or something like that. His accent certainly made Connelly think of that. Hell, he had a very slight southern twang himself, but it was nothing compared to this guy. His muscles seemed relaxed, for the most part, although there was slight tension in his neck, a sign that he was still on guard. Connelly took a very tiny step forward and to the left, in order to get into a better pouncing angle. The human didn't seem to notice.
The truly frightening feature was that as he talked, his figure became warped, his teeth elongating, his face and body becoming more angular, his eyes all but disappearing. Everything was tinged in red. Only the gun remained black, and shiny, and suddenly much too big and intimidating. As the human talked, his voice suddenly became too loud, and almost incomprehensible. The noise hurt. Connely wanted to rip out his tongue.
But then he stopped talking, and with a smile stepped forward, with his hand out. He introduced himself as "Ellis." The large stride had fucked up Connelly's angle, because now the human was too close. So close, in fact, that he could smell his sweat and the metal of the gun, and the hint of Tabasco sauce on his breath. But not fear. This survivor was confident. Connelly silently snorted in annoyance. He didn't memories to tell him that the stupid, confidant ones died easier.
Ellis was frowning now, and seemed a bit uncomfortable. Unsure. He glanced down at the outstretched hand. Oh. He wanted him to shake it and introduce himself. Talking would prove, at least to this guy, that he wasn't infected. That the hoodie was a coincidence. Well, he couldn't shake his hand, because his claws were still out. This wouldn't seem very polite, but luckily, Connelly wasn't a very polite person. With another wary glance at the hand, he grunted,
"Connelly."
Relief flooded Ellis's face. The elongated, red pointy mouth stretched. Ah, yes. He could talk. Nothing wrong with him, move along folks. Ellis shifted his gun to his other shoulder.
"Well, Conn'lly, I hope you don' mind me askin', but...are you by yerself?"
Isaak's smirking face briefly flashed through Connelly's mind, but he decided that that asshole obviously didn't count. He nodded.
"I am."
Ellis scratched the back of his head. Connelly raised one of his feet and used it to scratch the back of his leg, using this movement as an excuse to move back into position.
"Well, heck man, it sure is dangerous out here. I got a group close by, you wanna maybe join us for breakfast?"
Connelly let out a huge grin of pointy teeth. "I was just thinking the same thing," he purred.
He lunged.
Had this been another survivor, the hunter's claws would have quickly sunk into his chest cavity before the human had had any time to react, and half his organs would have been out before realizing that he should scream. But Ellis wasn't a normal survivor. If he had been, he wouldn't have still been alive. Even he didn't have enough time to move out of the way, his reflexes were fast enough that he was able to raise his gun to block the hunter's claws.
Connelly sneered and tried to knock the gun away with a swipe of his claws. This earned him the butt of the rifle being rammed into his stomach, and he went down with a choked gasp. The rifle butt came down again, but this time Connelly dodged it and pulled down the arm attached to it. Ellis went down with a grunt as he painfully landed on his side. As he tried to roll over, the hunter jammed him elbow hard into Ellis's throat, choking him and bring him down once more. With a victorious snarl, Connelly dug his claw deep into the shoulder of the struggling human, eager for fresh kill. Ellis weakly grabbed onto the hunter's garb in vain.
A flashlight beam pierced through the trees and the rapidly disappearing darkness. "Ellis?" Called an annoyed, almost nasally voice with a northeast accent. "Where the fuck are yah, kid?" The beam of light drew closer. Leaves crunched over heavy feet.
Connelly let out a deep growl of annoyance and released the human, disappearing into the trees on the opposite side of the clearing in one bound.
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He had not been more than ten minutes into the forest before Isaak appeared, lounging directly in front of him on an overturned log.
"Hello," he purred, a shit-eating grin splayed across his features.
Connelly let out a loud, enraged snarl, adrenaline still pounding through his veins.. "Fuck off." He immediately crouched into a defensive position, his eyes wary.
"Oh, come now, surely you aren't still mad about before?" Connelly let out a growl of warning as the other hunter casually strolled closer. "I brought you something," his voice taking a teasing tone to it.
The large hindquarter of a buck was dropped before the blond, its juices and blood still dripping, heat still radiating off of it. Connelly tried not to lick his lips. He was still hungry. But his wariness of Isaak won out, and he glared up at him.
"Just eat it," the older hunter intoned boredly. "I know you missed that deer before, and that scrawny human afterward. Pitiful. You have much to learn." Connelly sneered at him. "Well, do go on! Before it gets cold!"
Slowly lowering his head, and trying to keep his eye on the hunter, Connelly bit into the warm flesh. "I can hunt my own meat," he muttered between mouthfuls. "Fuckin' asshole…" But he had lost the edge in his voice.
Isaak watched him with some amusement. He stood there silently, waiting for his comrade to finish. When little but bones remained, he took off into the woods, with Connelly at his heels. The least he could do was be polite after that meal, the blond figured. Something the back of his mind tinged, as if something was wrong, but he ignored it.
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I was barely sunrise when they lay down to rest. Small shacks were apparently frequent around the swamp, and the one that Isaak had picked seemed particularly crappy. It contained a living room full of ripped and dusty furniture, a rusted out kitchen with no running water or gas, a laundry room with no washing machine, and a bedroom, where the two hunters currently resided. Isaak had claimed the space under the bed, which left Connelly with the small, cramped closet. Of course, there was plenty of bedding to be ripped from clothes, but he wasn't sure just how tightly he could curl himself up.
"You could always join me under the bed," Isaak had sarcastically answered to his complaints, flashing him his cocky grin.
Connelly had growled in response and stomped into his nest.
He was weary as the sun rose, and immediately felt his eyes grow heavy. Something tinged in the back of his mind that something was wrong again, but he didn't know just what…
'Here' she smiled, holding up his present with a chubby hand, 'happy birthday!' he smiled, fingering the She screamed, small hand clutched over the wound that A set of teeth gnashed over Oh god get it get it get back those things in the white suits Get it back from them kill them kill them KILL THEM
He awoke with a start, hand reaching to clutch at his throat. His hand only met fabric. Now fully awake, his hand desperately searched for the thing that wasn't there. Frantically, he searched for it, pawing through the ripped clothes. It was gone, though. He knew it was gone. That was what had been bothering him. Bursting through the closet doors, he leapt over to the bed and started violently shaking the body under it.
"Isaak! Isaak!" he hissed, "Wake up. Wake up god dammit this is serious."
The raven hair let out a snarl at being woken up, his teeth bared, but his countenance quickly turned playful. "Change your mind?" Connelly let out a growl and pushed him.
"We have to go."
"What?"
"Now."
Isaak let out a lazy yawn. "And why is that?"
Connelly let out a shaky breath. "My necklace. The one with the cross? It's gone."
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Some half mile away, a group of survivors finished their breakfast around their campfire.
"I still think you're shitting me," said the one in the white suit. "A talking hunter? No way."
"Ahm tellin' you, it's true," replied the other, "An' he wouldn't ah run off when he heard you if it were a regular hunter, neither. This one got some sense."
The black woman stifling the flames, the only female in the group, looked up with some concern. "Think he'll follow us, then?"
Ellis fingered the silver cross between his fingers. "I don't know," he said slowly, after some thought.
"Depends how stupid he is…and how much he wants this here fine piece back."
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Yay, nother chapter! And don't worry, you'll have more of Ellis and the rest of the gang from now on. Connelly's point of view, by the way, (when looking at Ellis) is taken from the official l4d Valve comic, found on their website.
