"Left 4 Dead: Butterflies in the Southern Breeze"

Our heros:

"Zoey, Francis, Louis, Bill, Ellis, Rochelle, Nick, Coach, and our Main Characters, Deacon, Jacie, and the pupper, Riley"

I gripped the combat knife tight in my hand, slowly inching closer to the prone Hunter in front of me. I finally reached his side, close enough to smell the blood and God knows what on his stained and tattered gray hoodie. With a expert's precision, I plunged the knife into his collarbone, angled so that it was sever a major artery. I quickly shoved his face deeper into the mud, turning his cries of pain and surprise into mere gurgles that were inaudible over the heavy rain that began to flood the small town. When the Hunter finally stopped struggling, which felt like minutes, I removed the knife and wiped the dark blood onto my already blood-soaked cargo pants.

I froze as a piercing howl echoed through the town, then I submerged my body almost completely, only letting my nose stick out so I could breathe.

The origin of the howls emerged from the thick treeline, it's silver fur matted with caked blood and its front right leg bent in a odd way. It limped over to the water just to my left and began to sniff the water. When it smelt the nearby dead infected's blood in the water, it growled and moved a little bit upstream. After a survey sniff, the silver wolf began drinking.

Animals are a enigma these days. Most of 'em died when the Green Flu mutated and they couldn't adapt quick enough. But this majestic animal right here is proof that they don't stay alive for a long time by being stupid. It knew that the infection travels via blood entering a healthy body via wounds or ingestion. Which reminds me, I need to move or I'll be ignoring my own knowledge.

I slowly began to crawl my way out of the water as the wolf was too busy drinking. But I didn't see the Hunter in the bushes in front of me until he screamed and leapt onto me, tearing into my back. Thankfully I wore heavy clothes in case of this situation. Well, mainly cause it's fucking pouring rain. But the first reason sounds cooler.

I stifled a yell and knocked him off with my elbow. Quickly scrambling to my feet and holding my knife at the ready. Slightly crouching, I dove to the side as the Hunter screamed at unnatural speeds toward me.

Instead of me, the Hunter crashed into the wolf who was minding his own business. The wolf roared in pain as the Hunter slammed into his injured leg, and returned the favor by tearing the infected's right arm off at the elbow with only a twist of his neck.

I leapt at the recoiling Hunter and drove my knife into his throat, silencing and killing him. I dragged him into the water and pushed him further into the creek until he was caught by the current and began to float downstream.

I put my back to a tree and sat on the exposed gnarled roots, catching my breath. "Two Hunters in five minutes. Whew..." I stabbed my knife into the tree so I could take off my old leather gloves. I tossed the pair of them on my knee as I inspected my body for any wounds that needed immediate attention. Only a few scratches and blisters on my palm. All around, miraculously unscathed.

Then I turned my attention to the wolf, who I'd yet to notice had been severely wounded by the Hunter's collision. I fished a medkit out of my bag and slowly crawled my way toward the wolf, who was laying on his left side whimpering in pain. When he noticed me, he didn't even have the strength to do so much as growl. His body was limp as I opened the medkit and began to search through the wolf's matted fur for wounds. When I eventually found the worse wound, I hissed in pain as I remembered the exact same wound being my introduction into this Hell.

The wolf managed a whimper as I began to tirelessly wrap gauze-coated bandages around the wounded area on his chest. I moved down to his legs, thankfully the only wound was his broken leg. But unfortunately, his leg was broken. With animals, they tend to keep moving even if they're wounded. So it's most likely much worse than it looks. I took off my heavy leather jacket and grabbed a part of my ripped Rolling Stones shirt and tore a long strip of the black cloth off, destroying it further. I grabbed a few sturdy sticks and snapped them into smaller pieces. I set the makeshift splint materials to the side and took a deep breath. I put my hands on either side of the broken leg and leaned my shoulder against the canine's massive body. "This is gonna hurt. Just don't tear my head off." I took another, much deeper breath and snatched with all my strength, snapping the bone back into place. The wolf barely struggled, probably because he was nearly unconscious and was heavily wounded. I quickly placed the sticks in place and began hastily wrapping the sticks and leg together.

Just then, the worst possible thing happened.

A Screamer, an infected that's rarely seen, emerged from a house and locked eyes with me. Then it took a deep breath, preparing to call the horde my way.

I quickly scrambled to throw my jacket and bag back on. "Damn it, can't leave you here." I made the split second decision to heave the wolf onto my shoulders, using the healthy legs as a grip to hold the wolf in place as I ran with all my strength. Adrenaline replaced my blood as the roar accompanied by the literal wave of infected tore through the swamp toward me.

I ran through the underbrush and through small trees, plowing down anything in my path that wasn't a solid stump or a huge tree. Eventually I ended up crashing through the woods and landing on top of a red Nissan, triggering the alarm and even more friends came running from all directions. I was too busy running to even acknowledge the significant increase in infeced idiots chasing me. My foolish ignoring of the infected was repaid tenfold when I heard a woman shriek and pain exploded across the right side of my face. Within a heartbeat a Charger rammed into my left side, throwing me into a car door and the wolf onto the ground a good three meters away.

I attempted to open my right eye again once I'd pulled myself to my feet, but it was like a black veil was pulled over it. The damn Witch blinded me. The roars of infected all but stopped as the Charger slammed it's meaty fist into the ground as a intimidation attempt.

I reached into my bag, careful not to let my good eye look away from the two special mutated infected in front of me. I rummaged around without looking for a few seconds until my hand found the handle of a weapon. I grinned and unsheathed my weapon.

There was complete silence in the street except for the rain as the two infected watched me flip the balisong butterfly knife around.

I finally relaxed my wrist with the razor sharp blade pointing down, "Let's dance."

With that, the Charger roared so loud the ground shook. The Witch followed with a shriek that cracked what was left of the car windows. The Charger tore through the street, flipping cars that were to big to plow through.

When he got close enough for me to smell the damn thing's rotten breath I slid under the Charger's oversized arm and used a car hood to jump onto its back. I wrapped my left hand around the little flab of flesh that was supposed to be its neck and plunged the balisong into the Charger's eye. With a yell, I ripped my knife backwards, effectively cutting the right side of it's brain and skull apart. The Charger flopped into a puddle with a splash and began to pour blood from it's fatal wound.

I dug my hand and my knife out from under the giant's head and stood to face the Witch, who'd watched the fight unfold. "If I'ma go out, I'ma go out slicin'." I smirked and began to sprint toward the Witch, who did the same, a hungry smile pasted on her wrinkled face.

I felt the Witch's claws tear through my jacket and stab into my stomach, but I used the opportunity to drive my knife into the infected's shriveled arm. I snatched backwards, tearing the Witch's clawed hand right off. Blood splattered all over me as I gripped the clawed hand and pulled it out of my stomach. The amputated hand fell into a puddle of both the Witch's and my own blood as the Witch wailed in pain, clutching her wounded arm.

"You took my eye, I take your hand. Remember this, Witch." I turned, eyeing the Witch who was now curled up in a fetal position crying.

Suddenly the Witch roared in anger and dashed toward me, ignoring the four silhouettes that had appeared behind her.

I slammed my elbow into the Witch's face and stabbed my knife into her chest. Repeating the second step over and over again until she stopped moving and my entire arm was covered in blood. Her limp body fell onto the legs of the dead Charger as blood from him, her, and me pooled into the flooding water and began to flow off the edge of the highway into a ditch that bordered the swamps of Louisiana.

I slowly limped to the wolf, who lay unconscious on the cement as the flooding water began to slowly get closer to his snout. With a heave, I picked up the wolf and laid him on a car's hood so he'd not drown. Then the shock, pain, and exhaustion overcame me and I fell unconscious, falling to the road as a woman's voice yelled, "Look!"

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