Falling for the Beast
"LMFranklin20"
Disclaimer: Left 4 Dead does not belong to me and I do not make any money off of this non-canon fiction.
Summary: Dr. Angelica Pavlov is put on the worst possible job she could get: training and socializing a feral Alpha male Hunter. When he shows an unnerving interest in her, Angelica finds herself falling for the beast.
Rating: M+ due to blood, gore, violence, language, and intensely detailed adult situations (In other words, its Infected/Survivor SEX. Don't read it if you don't like it!)
Chapter 20: That Dastardly Evil Bastard
"You're coming with me," Jake grunts, finally satisfied that most of the fight has gone out of the Hunter. He hoists him over his shoulder and stands, not quite sure what's happened. The Leaper had started hyperventilating when Angelica was carried away, struggling to get to her like an animal struggling for air. Scott simply remains limp over the guard's shoulder, quiet and stunned.
"Doc's hurt bad, man," Jake grumbles, not quite sure why he's even talking. "Lost alot of blood. And here I was thinking she had you in good enough shape that..that you wouldn't have done that to her!" He knows he shouldn't be that angry. It was just a mindless, stupid creature, right? But that-that hadn't been the impression he'd gotten when Scott and Angelica were together.
With his eyes downcast, the large man sighs slowly before he's startled by a hiccup from the Hunter. He's stunned by the sound of a sob, edged with the slightest of whines. The Hunter claws at his shredded and bloodied hoodie, yanking it over his head hard. Put on edge, he turns a corner, glancing at the rather ominous looking door at the end of the hall.
It opens into a very clean examination room and Jake gulps some as he settles the begrieved Hunter onto a gurney fitted with restraints.
Sitting at the counter and writing quickly, a very familiar blonde-haired man remains calm, stoic in the face of such panic. "Dr. Lancaster," Jake mutters, "You'll be handling this?" Joel briefly glances up in acknowledgement, nodding, "You may leave now."
Gritting his teeth, Jake simply nods, strapping the Hunter down and glancing at Joel's now-turned back. "Sorry, man," he mumbles to the distraught Hunter, too quietly to be heard even in the sall room. He doesn't like being so close to the male scientist for long. After the other man has left, Joel stands, looking over his new subject appraisingly, one brow raising slightly.
The Hunter doesn't seem to be capable of containing his emotions, arching off of the gurney with a pained shriek, his hands flexing and struggling against the restraints before he falls back, snapping his teeth and letting out wails. Joel looks on with curiousity, finally attributing it to the effects of his hallucinogenic tranquilizer. He'll have to run some tests to try to stimulate a similiar response later, to be sure. For now, he simply observes the Hunter's behavior.
The creature shudders, as if cold and turns its face away. Its chest still rises and falls with deep shuddery breaths. Joel is aware that it had been living in Angelica's quarters, along with a small child.
Finally, he approaches the Leaper with a small flashlight in hand, flicking it on and shining it at some distance from the Infected's eyes, to see if the pupils are behaving as normal, only to have it jerk its head away. A snarl rips through the creature and snaps wildly, jerking up but too tightly restrained to do much else. Joel glances up at the sound of a squeaking wheel, frowning at the break in his work as he watches a gurney roll by. The body is covered by a sheet, one hand dangling limply off of the edge.
Putting his little flashlight away, Joel watchings as the Hunter peeks from under its hood. Its mildly off-putting, seeing tear streaks through the bloody, dirty tracks on its face and he recognizes an expression of strain on the creature's face. After a moment of consideration, Joel closes his eyes with a small sigh, stepping out of the room. When he returns, he has Dr. Pavlov's lab coat in hand. "Unfortunately, Dr. Pavlov lost too much blood from her injuries," he says flatly, and then states a bit more bluntly, "She's dead."
He watches carefully. If it understands, it will certainly be an interesting development. The Hunter's nose twitches and Joel is aware that its picking up on Dr. Pavlov's scent. A whine works its way through the beast and it glances back out of the window.
With a raised brow, Joel gestures back towards the covered body, now disappearing around the corner and then holds out the bloodied garment.
He can see the moment it clicks in the Leaper's head.
Its eyes widen and it begins to flail wildly. Joel takes a step back, flinching at the shriek that rings through the room. Its claws dig into its palms as it struggles to get free. At a pause in the mindless shrieking, Joel gives a dismissive shrug, "There's nothing to be done now. Its not as though she can be brought back. I suppose that you can't be blamed; its only in your nature."
He turns towards his clipboard, quick to write down notes on the behavior as the Hunter cranes its neck, still making loud, alarmed noises, as though trying to call to someone out there. What can only be described as a heartbroken scream rips out of its throat as it sags against the gurney.
Joel approaches when it seems the creature won't be struggling anymore and checks his restraints, tightening them when they seem to have loosened. Nodding and satisfied that it won't be escaping, Joel glances down at his watch. "I suppose that testing will begin tomorrow," he mutters to himself, straightening out his own lab coat as he stalks out of the room, flicking off the light and closing the door.
Within the room, the Hunter turns into his shoulder, wailing and sobbing.
The Next Day
Early the next morning, the door into the examination room crackes open and a figure outside fumbles for the light, flicking it on and peeking in to be sure the Hunter didn't get loose at night. He's awake but still on the gurney, his face oddly blank and his gaze distant. Blood stains his entire being, from his jaw down and his hoodie is shredded and torn, stiff from the dried blood.
Glancing side-to-side, the guard steps into the room, a loaded syringe in one hand. Orders are to move the Hunter back into the pit so that Dr. Lancaster can do his testing and observation.
Tapping the syringe, the guard edges towards the strapped down Hunter nervously.
He finds a spot on the inside of one of the Hunter's elbows and presses the syringe in, injecting the drug slowly and watching the Hunter's every movement. He flinches but otherwise doesn't respond, his head turned to the side and quite listless. Encouraged, the guard unstraps the creature and lifts him up, attempting to shoulder him as he'd be shown.
A low, half-hearted growl works through the Hunter and he yanks himself away, falling unceremoniously onto his backend. He grumbles and rubs his back but then scoots a little furhter away, crouched near the end of the gurney.
Tense for an attack, the guard has a hand resting on his gun already, ready to draw but the Hunter gives no other signs of life, collapsing onto the ground and staring blankly at the wheel of the gurney. Confusion flits over the guard's face before he shakes his head, sighing, "Let's go."
The walk down the hall is disturbingly uneventful, except for the Hunter's soft whines.
A few moments later and the guard is grateful to be swinging the door to the pit open. He settles the Hunter on the ground, shifting and muttering awkwardly, "Dr. Lancaster will be in, in a little bit."
When the door closes, the stale but all-too familiar scent of Angelica smacks Scott in the face and he curls into himself, whining pathetically. He hurts so much. His claws dig into his arms as he hugs himself, letting a sob wrack his already aching body.
He manages to slowly drag himself to his "Hunterhouse", laying half inside it, hiccuping in his grief.
Far above him, the door to the catwalk opens and Joel steps out, walking towards the edge of the pit, his expression, as always, painted with detachment as he looks down. He spots the Hunter's legs sticking out of the makeshift doghouse in the pit and the vague sounds he's picking up tell him that the Hunter is apparently grieving again.
Joel needs some observational data though and he digs through the small pack he'd brought in, bringing out Angelica's lab coat and tossing it into the pit. It flutters down, landing with barely a whisper but the Hunter knows its there. Joel can see it, in the tense of its legs. It turns slowly, peering out and dragging itself slowly towards the article.
It gathers the coat in its hands, pressing its face into it and then curling up again, clutching the coat to its chest and letting out a sharp, scratchy sob.
Joel shrugs his shoulder when the Hunter turns a baleful glare up at him. "So you do have some sort of an emotional attachment to Dr. Pavlov," he says softly, settling into a chair and pulling out his clipboard, "I thought that I did too, at one point. You'll see though. She's really quite a forgettable woman."
The snarl that greets him is one of disagreement, as though the creature below can understand him. Joel can't help the slightest upturn of his lips, the ghost of a smirk. The Hunter drags itself back towards the little shack of a shelter, stowing itself and the lab coat inside and Joel digs through his pocket, pulling out a small wireless controller.
Pressing the button sends a mild shock through the Hunter and it comes back out, snarling ferociously at him with its hands hooked around the shock collar.
So it is vaguely intelligent, Joel observes. Its directed its attention towards him, which shows that the Hunter is aware that the pain is caused by something. It can learn then.
The moment it turns back towards the shack, Joel sends another shock through it. He turns towards his small stockpile of supplies, picking up a paintball gun and leveling it before the Hunter can escape. A few shots glance off of the floor before Joel lands one on the Hunter's chest, splattering him in blue paint. The impact is painful and the Hunter jumps, shrieking in distress.
Ignoring the Hunter, Joel picks up a large mirror, tied to a long rope and lowers it over the edge of the catwalk, slowly dropping it into the pit. Inevitably, the Hunter turns to look at the mirror. With what Joel imagines to be a wearied sigh, the beast starts for the mirror, sniffing it over and swatting at it, toppling the mirror. It doesn't take long for the Hunter to pick it back up though, sitting on his haunches and jerking in surprise when he sees the reverse image in it.
He stares at himself, seemingly in confusion, his mouth slightly open. His claws click over the glass and he moves left and right, recognizing himself as he touches his now paint-covered chest. Joel observes as the Hunter touches his bloodied sleeves and then his jaw. He starts to back up, whining in apparent panic before he darts forward with a mad shriek, slamming its fist into the mirror and shattering it. His shriek morphs into an enraged roar as he turns to glare accusingly at Joel.
Joel nods, jotting down everything he's observed before standing, crossing to the door and leaning out to speak briefly with a guard.
When he returns with guard in tow, the Hunter has managed to make its way back towards the shack, though now its wary of going in.
The guard levels a tranquilizer gun and fires, catching the Hunter in his already sore chest. For a moment, he remains still, his eyes wide as he looks down at the red-tipped tranquilizer in his chest and the muscle in his jaw twitches. He roars suddenly, exploding into a mindless ball of rage. He slams his arms into his Hunterhouse, knocking it over and then goes through, tearing through what he can and flipping what he can't break. His claws screech over the metal walls as he screams his mindless fury to the world.
Eventually though, the drugs flood his system and he stumbles, panting and still wild-eyed as he pants raggedly. His claws flex for something to tear into, something to destroy.
Eventually, the lower door opens and the guard walks in, eyeing the Hunter carefully for a bit before approaching any closer. Joel stays well outside and out of the line of danger.
For his part, the Hunter is still enraged and he snarls, stumbling in his attempts to attack. The guard bats his claws away, looking over the demolished pit before shouldering the uncoordinated Hunter. "Damn, Dr. Lancaster," he mutters, "What did you do to the guy?"
Joel just shrugs, closing his eyes, "I just ran a few simple tests. He launched himself into some kind of fit. He is one of the Infected, after all."
Sighing, the guard follows behind the doctor, frowning. Its not his place to question whatever's going on, after all. Joel doesn't break pace as he leads the way down the hall. Its going to be a long day.
A/N: ...Well, I guess all there is to say for now, is that no one's gotten it right. No one has quite figured out why Scott flipped his shit in the last chapter. Leave your answers in the reviews please!
Just a Hint: What are the things you try to avoid, during gameplay, to avoid drawing the Infected to yourself?