L4D Double Feature

Sequel to Movie Night. After a night to remember, the group "visitor" mysteriously disappears. As the four pursue their missing companion, they discover they have more in common than one night of passion, and more to look forward to than just movies.

Legal Disclaimer: All characters, as well as the plot about the zombie apocalypse, are property of Valve. However, I do own the particular sub plot to this story, so no plagiarizing or I will hunt you down with my cat launcher and shoot you with stray felines (cat launcher property of Seth McFarlane, here's hoping he actually develops one).

Sexual Content Warning (Rated M): This story contains sexual themes and is not suitable for those under the age of 18, men & women of the cloth, members of the "promise ring" fellowship, bible jockeys and other deeply religious sticks in the mud, or anyone else who would be offended and blow the whistle on me or flame me to death with promises of damnation or accusations that my twisted imagination is the product of inbreeding. Like Movie Night, I apologize for absolutely NOTHING in this story. If you don't like stories with sexual content, stop right now and go find some Disney to read. If you are part of the aforementioned groups and you read on, don't ruin it for everyone else by flaming me on my reviews page. Just like television, if you don't like it, watch something else.

Authors Note: Whew. Ok got the important stuff out of the way. This is a sequel of sorts to L4D Movie Night. If you've read Movie Night, then we both know why you're here. Don't worry, no one saw you coming I promise, you can take off the fake mustache and remove the trench coat…perverts. "Now step into my parlor," said the author to the reader.

WARNING: If you have notread Movie Night, pick up your things and get out, it's a prerequisite for this story, otherwise a lot of this won't make sense. Go read it and leave me a review. This story, much like its predecessor, is an OoC (Out of Character) story, so don't flame me about how Bill would say this over that, or Zoey wouldn't know anything about giraffes or orange flavored lube. I promise to attempt to remain as on track and as close to the characters' personalities from the first story as I can. You won't suddenly see a Tank clapping his hands while a smoker jumps rope with his own tongue, but still… keep an open mind. Save the nitpicking on minor details for a story that's more serious. :-)

One other gripe, don't be a "Favorite Story" whore. You guys know who you are. You lazy bastards won't leave a three word review like, "Great! Want More!" but you will add my story to your favorites list, which I then discover is longer than the lines will be at the clinics with Universal Healthcare. Nothing makes an author feel special like seeing his/her story is your favorite number 1022 on your list. Seriously, if you like the story that much and you want to add it as a favorite, great, but leave a review. They make me smile and give angels their wings. ;-D

Having said all that, enjoy and please review, anonymous reviews are enabled! Also time you dedicate to read this is non refundable, no exchanges, no returns, blah blah blah…



Chapter 1 – Coming Attraction



Golden orange rays of morning sunlight peeked through the bars on the safe-room door, sparkling off the long mane of platinum-white hair that cascaded like a waterfall down the smooth, gray back of its waking owner. The warmth of the morning light felt so pleasant on her skin, as did the warmth of the body resting beneath her. Her amber eyes fluttered open to the sight of her lover. His head was turned to the side and he was snoring quietly, a small pool of drool forming by his beard.

The witch yawned quietly, lifting her head to stare at the human who slumbered beneath her. The "witch" felt more like a queen as she remembered the night of pleasure and ecstasy she'd shared with him. She could feel his heartbeat against her breasts as his chest steadily rose and fell with his breathing. His hands were still folded around hers, gently squeezing her claws. The gray woman blushed, remembering the feel of those skilled hands all over her body. The way his rough calloused fingers pinched her nipples, his palms pawing at her tender breasts, and his intense grip on her ass when he plunged into her. She couldn't help the shiver of excitement that rippled through her body, her nipples hardening beneath her tank top and a moist feeling growing between her legs. Oh, how she wanted to take this man again, but she felt bad about waking her lover from such a peaceful sleep.

She sighed and gently laid her head against his chest, thinking about the circumstances in which she found herself. That was new to her, being able to remember and think. Nearly all of her memory as well as her cognitive faculties had been wiped out by her viral transformation. All she could feel was raw, directionless emotion, but not the rage the other infected felt. Instead her mind was blighted with utter sorrow. And her only way to convey her suffering was to cry.

And crying was all she knew.

Bawling, sobbing, wallowing in her misery. For the only things she could remember were horrifying visions and fragmented memories of torture and anguish. However, since she met these four survivors, she had nothing to be miserable about. She thought to be doomed to spending forever utterly alone and unhappy, until the moment her sorrow was interrupted…



"God damn it Francis what are you doing?" Bill asked in exasperation while Zoey and Louis simply shook their heads. The biker simply laid a finger by his smiling lips as he began creeping up to the sobbing witch that was off the side of the path in the woods, clearly out of the way of the survivors' trek.

"Dusk is coming man!" Louis said in a hushed gripe. "We have to get moving, and that witch isn't in our way! Just leave her alone!"

Francis ignored Louis' pleas, determined to cr0wn yet another witch. "Gonna give her somethin' to cry about," the biker said with a smirk as he drew ever closer to the infected woman sitting on the ground. She was covering her face with one huge claw and sobbing to herself, feeling lonely and miserable. As Francis approached, one of the laces on his boot had untied itself. With his next step, he'd snagged himself.

Francis tripped and fell with a cry, his shotgun landing right next to the witch who let out a surprised gasp of her own, staring at the human on the ground, too afraid to move. She noticed the other three humans behind him were equally surprised, all of them frozen in shock. With a curious growl, she began to stand.

"Run!" Francis shouted, breaking the silence as he quickly scooped up his shotgun and scrambled to his feet, hauling ass with the rest of the group to the safe house that was just up ahead. The witch, half on her feet, was yelling and crying, reaching out with one claw to the only company that was now running away. The aged, bearded man paused and turned around, locking eyes with the sobbing witch for a heartbeat before coming to his senses and breaking into a sprint, passing the younger biker who was half running, half hopping, trying not to trip over his untied laces.

Was she that hideous? Was she that frightening? Everyone, including other infected, made it a point to stay away from her. These four people were the first to actually approach her, and even though they ran away she swore she felt "something" when the gray-eyed human stared back at her. She couldn't let them go.

Sobbing quietly, she ran after the fleeing survivors hoping she could catch up.

A gurgle in her stomach interrupted her memory. The witch couldn't remember when she'd last eaten, but right now she was craving something sweet. She carefully climbed off her lover, taking care not to wake him. A cold morning breeze blew through the bars causing her to shiver. She spied the green jacket of her companion in a heap on the floor. She threw it about her shoulders, her claws preventing her from slipping her arms through the sleeves.

With light feet, the witch approached the door and carefully removed the steel bar. It was strange, before she never would've known how to unlock a door, but ever since last night her cognitive and motor skills seemed to be piecing themselves together. The sheer fact that she could remember everything that happened the night before with such clarity was proof that her shattered memory was slowly coming back.

The witch took one last lingering glance at her lover, who had turned on his side in an unconscious effort to cover himself, his pants still half around his knees. On the other couch the two naked men were snoring quietly, though they seemed to have shifted towards their shared lover in the center. The girl had curled up between them, a look of utter content on her face as she was snuggled between the two men. The witch smiled, thinking of all the excitement those three had stirred within her when she watched them.

The golden-eyed woman quietly closed the safe room door and took off in a fast walk. She would have to hurry if she wanted to get back before they awakened. As the morning sunlight kissed her gray skin, she began to sing. Singing while she walked was not uncommon for her. She used to sing a sad song whenever she walked around, her anguished sobs and cries coming out in her melancholy wailing. Now her singing was more like the sound of an angelic choir, her happiness flowing into every note.

She never noticed she was being followed.



Bill awoke at the sound of a soft "clank" of metal, his eyes popping open as he reflexively reached for his side arm, instead only grabbing bare thigh.

"Wha? What happened?" The vet asked no one quietly as he slowly sat up, trying to remember. Another cold breeze blew through the bars, and the war vet blushed, realizing his "gun" was completely exposed. He stood quickly, pulling up his pants hoping the others wouldn't see him in a state of undress. As he looked down to buckle his belt, he noticed his shirt was sliced up the center.

"When the hell did this happen?" Bill asked no one as he looked around for his missing jacket to cover himself. The couch cushions were sliced and punctured in numerous places, the white stuffing poking through the fabric. Did a fight occur in here? He swore he shut the safe room door. As if that weren't enough, the war vet glanced over at the other couch and beheld a shocking sight.

Louis, Zoey, and Francis were sleeping together, naked as jaybirds.

The surprising sight jolted the old man's memory as last night's events came rushing back. The movie make-out scene, the witch cuddling up to him, Zoey indirectly encouraging the witch to act rather forward, the witch lighting his lustful fire, Zoey initiating a threesome with Louis and Francis, and then… the wildest night of sex he'd had in a long time.

But… where was the witch?

"Did she leave?" Bill asked himself as he gave up trying to find his missing jacket. She must have taken it with her.

The safe room door was closed, but the reinforced bar was leaning against the wall. The witch had left at some point between last night and this morning, and that of itself was strange. Infected weren't able to open doors, but the witch had done just that, and apparently she was rather quiet about it.

That aside, Bill pondered the motive for the witch's mysterious disappearance. His "movie date" had snuck off, and he felt strangely discomforted by that. The fact that she'd taken his jacket and was so careful not to wake him was surprising, yet a small part of him was disappointed that she'd left so abruptly. Then again, all that had transpired last night seemed so surreal. The old vet still couldn't believe he had the most intense sex in his life with a witch, or that Zoey, Francis, and Louis had a threesome.

He sighed resignedly. Trying to decipher the night's events would accomplish nothing. Regardless of why the witch left, the safety of the group was paramount and it was time to get going. Bill quietly approached the naked trio on the couch.

"Zoey…" Bill whispered as he tried to rouse the nude college girl. She murmured quietly, but didn't wake. She was curled up in an attempt to cover most of her naughty parts from the morning chill. Bill paused, staring at her in puzzlement. Zoey had certainly been the catalyst in last night's events. However, even when she was completely involved with Louis and Francis, he'd noticed her eyeing him on more than one occasion, especially when the witch was riding him like an enthusiastic cowgirl. He knew college kids these days were more liberated and open minded, but last night showed just how much. Still, he wondered if there was more to her constant stares than mere fascination with the circumstances.

Bill shook his head. This wasn't the time to ponder if Zoey had a thing for older men. Everything that happened last night would affect the group's focus, and it was important to clear the air about it as soon as possible. The last thing any of them needed to do was think about the night before while fighting for their lives.

"Zoey," he whispered again, gently nudging her.

Zoey stirred as Bill prodded her shoulder. She yawned quietly, stretching as her eyes adjusted to the morning light pouring through the safe room door. She slowly realized that she was still completely naked, and that Bill was standing right in front of her staring at her nakedness. What surprised her was how turned on she suddenly felt at the idea that Bill might be lusting after her body.

"Good morning," she whispered with a smile as she carefully moved Louis' stray hand from her butt. Bill's ripped shirt was hanging open, exposing his rather toned and muscled chest and abs, earning a stare from the college girl. Zoey was very impressed that a man of his age had a body that younger men would envy. Her face began to flush as she remembered last night, the way the aged war vet screwed his pretty gray lover into next week. She shivered in excitement at the thought, the wish, of being the one bouncing on him last night, feeling every forceful thrust reaching all the way to her womb.

It was time to make that wish come true.

Zoey stood, not bothering to pick up any of her clothes or cover herself in any way, smiling coyly at him. Her auburn hair was hanging freely about her shoulders, the tips stopping just above her hardening pink nipples. Bill's jaw was hanging open, the words stuck on his lips as Zoey casually faced him, naked as the day she was born and not the least bit modest about it. This was throwing off his plan to talk about the night before.

"Zoey… ahh…" he stammered, mentally chastising himself for ogling her. Christ he was old enough to be her father. "We need to… uhh… talk… yes… talk about…"

The petite college girl giggled inwardly at the typically fearless war vet's apparent nervousness. It only made her want him more.

"Talk?" She asked sultrily, entering his personal space. The war vet backed away, as nervous as he was last night when the witch was coming on to him. "You seem to be having a difficult time talking," she said, backing him against a wall, her body less than an inch away. "Talk is cheap and overrated anyway. Actions speak louder than words you know." She punctuated this remark by running her hands over his chest, rubbing and squeezing his muscles.

Bill's head was swimming. He had to stop this now before it got out of hand. He firmly grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her away and glaring at her.

"Girl, don't make me get physical," he said, trying to put forth as much faux anger and parental insistence as he could. The truth of the matter though was he'd never, ever raise a hand to her, and he was pretty sure she knew.

Zoey smirked at the double meaning behind Bill's words. He could threaten all he wanted, she knew he wouldn't act on it. She quickly shoved his hands from her shoulders and ran her hands into his shirt, grabbing his back and grinding her perky breasts against his pecs.

"I love a man who's aggressive. Like when you spanked your movie date for being impatient with you," she purred, leaning in close to nibble on his ear. "That was so... hot," she drew out the last word with a lustful, heated breath on his ear. "Are you gonna spank me too? I'm misbehaving right now…" She suckled his earlobe, earning a groan from the aged veteran as his "gun" poked at her exposed charms through his pants. "Something tells me that's not your side arm poking me," the horny survivor murmured, amidst her oral affection.

Bill growled, a mixture of both sexual and literal frustration. Zoey was pressing her body against him, rubbing her mound against his bulge. She wanted him badly, especially after coming to terms with the fact that she cared for him, as well as the other two survivors, more than anyone she'd ever known. Bill's hands betrayed him as they traveled to her butt, his fingers squeezing and digging into her soft cheeks, grinding her bare front against his. Zoey moaned, moving to nibble at Bill's neck, her erect nipples brushing against his chest hair.

"I'm old enough to be your dad, or even your granddad for Christ sake," he mumbled, trying to think of what to say to stop her without hurting her feelings.

"I don't care." She said matter-of-factly, slipping one of her hands into his pants to feel his heat directly. The situation was very exciting. Louis and Francis were still passed out, but they could wake at any moment, and the danger of "being caught" really turned her on.

"Zoey…" Bill said as she continued nibbling at him. He had to stop her, for a lot of reasons he was sure, even though he couldn't think of a single one at the moment. If she kept this up he wouldn't be able to stop himself from throwing her down on the other couch right now and screwing her silly. This just wasn't the time. He needed a real curve ball to throw her off.

"I… I love you." He stated.

Zoey halted her sexual advances and stared him as a huge smile spread across her face. Her eyes sparkled like a bride on her wedding day, and Bill was a little unnerved. It reminded him of the witch's expression when he'd cuddled with her. What was supposed to throw Zoey off had completely backfired, taking him off guard instead.

"Bill..." Zoey sighed.

"That is," Bill stammered, trying to recover, "I… I love you like a friend and I have a lot of respect for you. And I don't want to lose that due to acting impulsive…"

Zoey's broad smile flipped to an upset frown. Her sparkling blue eyes began to water as her lips trembled.

Bill's swallowed; maybe that was a little harsh?

"I think I understand," she said quietly, stepping back as she fought to contain her tears. "You think I'm just the group slut who wants to 'let off steam' and you're the 'sloppy seconds.' Is that about right?"

"No! No!" Bill said quickly as she turned away, truly hurt. He gently touched her cheek, wiping away one of her tears. "I just don't understand how you can…"

"Want to sleep with you after everything that happened last night?" She finished, wiping her eyes. "Or maybe you don't understand why I did what I did?"

Bill nodded. He hated to see his petite comrade upset, but he did indeed want to know what was driving her actions.

"Bill, I..." Zoey sighed. She wished Francis and Louis were awake to hear this, it was important to lay it out right now how she felt about all of them.

"Woah. Did I miss something?"

Zoey spun around in surprise at the sound of Louis' voice. Both he and Francis were awake, sharing an equal expression of confusion.

"No." She said firmly, turning to face her two lovers. "In fact your timing couldn't be better. I have to tell you all something very important."

"Sorry… what?" Francis asked, rather distracted. He was gazing at the nude college girl with a lustful eye, remembering the fun from last night. Zoey rolled her eyes. Leave it to Francis to break the tension in the room with his boorish gawking.

Louis laughed and slapped Francis on the shoulder, startling out of his dreamy-eyed state. "Zoey maybe you should get dressed first." He said, passing in front of the biker to retrieve his own clothes and hers, giving the tattooed survivor an unwanted close up of his lower half.

"Watch where you point that thing!" Francis growled, getting up to retrieve his own clothes. Louis just snickered as he tossed Zoey her clothes, who began dressing as well. She shot Bill a look of disappointment that their moment was interrupted, more so by Bill's misconceptions than Louis and Francis waking up. The three survivors finished dressing and re-equipping their firearms.

"Now I know without a doubt the rumors about black guys are false." Francis quipped as he threw on his leather vest, earning a glare from Louis.

"Hey man, I'm likely the last black guy left alive so that makes the rumor true, 'cause lord knows my 'package deal' overshoots that 'quarter-inch killer' you've got by a country mile!" Louis retorted with a snarky smile as he adjusted his red tie. Francis growled, ready to go toe to toe over the shot on his manhood until Zoey interjected.

"Guys, you both are top-billing in my book," she said, smiling and holding their hands. Francis simply grumbled while Louis grinned ear to ear, "in fact, all three of you are, and that's what I was about to explain to Bill."

"So where's the witch that rode Bill hard and put him away wet?" Francis asked, recalling the horny infected who took part in the little sex party.

"Later Francis," Louis said dismissively. He looked apologetically at Bill who seemed to flinch at the mention of the missing witch. "Zoey… you were saying?" The three men faced the college student, her nervous posture a stark difference from her bold attitude last night.

"Well… all three of you are very special to me. We're kinda like a family, albeit a crazy dysfunctional one," she said, earning a chuckle from the group. "We're all we have, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I never would have met such great men under any other circumstances..."

The three men smiled as Zoey turned her head down in embarrassment; pouring her heart out wasn't something she was used to doing.

"All of you have done more for me… heck for each other as well, than anyone I've ever known… or dated for that matter. I've become attached to you all, and…" she paused, blushing hard, "well… attracted to you all as well. That's why I… did what I did last night." She said looking between Louis and Francis, both of them nodding in understanding. She turned shy eyes to Bill. "I want to share everything with all of you, because you three are all very special to me."

Louis smiled, gently touching Zoey's cheek. "I understand completely. I've grown pretty fond of everyone here too, even Francis." He said. "I'll always do my very best for you, Zoey… for all of you." He finished, addressing his comrades.

Francis scratched the back of his head. "I hate to admit it, but I'm pretty fond of you guys too when you aren't pissing me off," he said as he placed a hand on Zoey's shoulder, "Even when I have to baby sit grandpa and the college boy wise ass over there." He smirked at Bill and Louis, who both just glared at him.

Bill sighed, mulling over his own feelings towards Zoey, Louis, and Francis. They really were like a family, at least in the sense of a very close group of friends. He felt like the father figure of the group, being protective and sometimes a bit scolding. Bill knew it probably came off a bit harsh, but that was simply because he felt responsible for them. He'd lived a long and happy life; it wasn't fair that these kids had their futures stolen away by this nightmare. They deserved any chance to make something of the rest of their time on this earth, and Bill had promised himself that he would give his life to protect his "adopted children." He looked on them fondly. Louis was a positive young man who believed in only the best from people. Though he was green, he'd adapted to the situation very quickly for a civilian, a fact that didn't escape the war veteran. Francis appeared a cynical bastard on the surface, but the aged war vet knew it was only a defense mechanism. When the shit hit the fan, the biker was there to pull everyone out. As for Zoey, she was spunky, brave, passionate, loving, and a killer shot who didn't crack under pressure; definitely not the typical college student. Although she was young, he couldn't deny that she was attractive, and knowing that what she wanted was more than just causal sex made it a little easier to for him to understand why she wanted to give herself to him.

Still, he didn't want her, or any of them, to become too attached, lest he had to make good on his promise.

"I care a lot about you too," he said as he pulled his petite comrade in for a hug. Zoey sighed in resignation, kissing his cheek, wondering if that was just a cop-out for the old man.

Despite this very heartwarming confession and the entire group's understanding, Bill's thoughts kept wandering back to the witch who was likely long gone by now. He hoped she was alright, wherever she was. He wished he knew why she'd snuck away, but all these questions would have to wait. Surviving this nightmare was all that mattered. At least now everything was out in the open. The group could focus on heading to their next destination.

"I'm glad the air has been cleared, because we need to keep bringing our 'A game' to these crazy bastards," Bill said. "Are we ready?"

The three young survivors nodded, readying their weapons.

"All right people lets go," Bill said gruffly as he readied his assault rifle, turning his back to the three as he faced the daylight streaming in from the safe room door.

"Uh… what about the witch?" Louis asked, recalling Bill's reaction when Francis mentioned the missing woman.

"It doesn't matter," Bill said firmly, grateful the others couldn't see his crestfallen expression. "What matters is we make it to the next safe house. According to the writing on the walls, we just need to follow the hiking paths until we reach the river."

The four survivors exited the room to the morning lit skies above the Pennsylvania woods. They were relieved to find very few common infected scattered about. Most of them were leaning against trees or staggering around aimlessly. The group followed the beaten path that was the hiking trail, dispatching the few commoners that took notice. Although they were making fast progress, the lack of action was beginning to bore the leather-vested biker.

"So what do you think happened to Bill's 'vampire'?" Francis asked no one in particular, hoping to get a chuckle or two. "You think she hurried back to her coffin to cry about sleeping with an old man?"

Zoey kept several choice four-letter expletives to herself, while Louis simply continued scanning the woods. Bill snorted as he lit a fresh cigarette, knowing that Francis was simply bored with the lack of action and trying to stir up shit.

"For the last time, they're zombies, Francis." He said dryly as he pocketed his lighter, trying to ignore the shot at his age. Frankly, he was more upset that Francis was indirectly picking on the witch.

"Sorry." Francis said sarcastically. "Did that zombie have to blow the dust off your di-"

Francis' remark was stopped dead. Bill quickly turned around and sucker punched him hard in the gut, landing him on his ass and knocking the wind out of him. Francis coughed hard and gasped, his lungs sucking in air frantically. The seasoned veteran glared at the downed biker, his steel gray eyes a conundrum of calm fury.

"Francis, we may all be comrades here, but if there's one rule I expected even you to know, it's never poke fun at another man's Johnson… or the woman riding it." Bill said in an even, yet angry tone, staring him down. Francis grumbled as he picked himself up. Louis chuckled, remembering how pissy Francis got when he poked fun at his "package."

Zoey bit her lip as she stared at Bill's alpha male stance, feeling that familiar hot flush of excitement towards the war vet's aggressive action. He was likely almost twice the muscled biker's age, and he'd just laid him out flat with one punch as though it were nothing. It was clear that Bill was just as tough as the burly biker, if not more so. "That witch was one lucky bitch." She thought to herself with a hint of jealousy. "Why on earth she'd leave him is…"

The four survivors froze as a peculiar sound emanated in the distance.

Bill held up one hand, a silent motion to the group to freeze. A slight breeze blew, rustling the leaves in the trees. As the wind died down, the sound could be heard again. It was a little ways off, but in the direction they were heading.

"It almost sounds like… singing?" Zoey asked in a half whisper.

"Yeah," Louis said as the distant notes reached his ears, "though I don't hear any words."

Francis cocked an eyebrow. "It doesn't sound human." The others nodded slowly. It certainly didn't, though it was no less beautiful. The four survivors were in awe at the attraction of this "sirens' call."

"Keep alert, team." Bill said as he lowered his hand and resumed the advance. After everything he'd seen, nothing would take him by surprise him at this point.



He'd been following the scent since his enhanced sense of smell detected it on the wind. The hunter knew that smell all too well, the smell of a survivor. It was faint and ordinarily would've gone unnoticed, but this hunter hadn't eaten in days and he was becoming desperate for a meal. The mutated infected leaper had scaled some of the taller pines in the woods to get a better vantage. He spied his solitary prey walking along a beaten path the humans had forged, heading towards the river.


The hunter licked his chops in anticipation. He sprang between the trees, getting closer still, preparing to pounce from a high branch. Only until his target was about 25 feet away did he realize his approaching "prey" was not human. The jacket was the source of the human scent, but the wearer's enormous claws and glowing amber eyes meant only one thing: The approaching singing creature was one of his very unstable and very dangerous infected sisters.

Crier? Witch?

The hunter growled in confusion. He'd seen his infected sisters walking around during the day, but rather slowly and randomly, wailing sadly and sobbing the entire time. They hated being disturbed and their huge claws were lethal, allowing them to decapitate anyone with one swipe. Luckily their slow walking, loud sad caterwauling, and almost agoraphobic behavior made them easy to avoid. However, this witch was nothing like the others. She sang aloud happily, and her walk was deliberate, quick, and focused as she followed the path.

He lept to another tree to get a view from the side. She was headed towards the large abandoned cabin. The hunter remembered humans gathering at that cabin, though for what reason he didn't understand. All he knew was they made easy prey there. The cabin was huge, with many places to hide. It was an easy meal, so long as he was inside when the large red door closed. However, he hadn't scored a kill in over a week at that place. Why was she heading there? Was there food he didn't know about?

Suddenly his nostrils picked up another scent from the approaching witch. It was foreign, yet vaguely familiar. He could smell the witch, though it was more than just her body scent. It was… something else… something that nearly excited him into a frenzy. It made him want to pounce on her, despite his gut instincts that such an act would be suicidal. Though he was famished, more than hunger was gnawing at his mind. He wanted her, but not just to feed. His face flushed and a strange heat built within his groin. It was very confusing, but very insistent.

Pounce! Ravish! Feed!

The hunter growled, trying to ignore this strange new craving. He was so hungry that even another infected seemed delicious, especially this one. Unlike his bony looking sisters, this one appeared full and healthy, much like the survivors he'd been tailing the night before. He had planned on waiting for them to come out of their safe refuge, but the smell of his "false prey" had thrown him off. He stared at her voluptuous form, his eyes wandering down her body…

He growled gutturally, this new urge for the witch was clouding his mind. He retreated through the woods towards the cabin. Inside, behind the door he would wait. She would come. He would take her by surprise and silence this strange new desire.

Then he would feed.



The witch continued her search for food, her singing echoing throughout the forest. The sweet scent grew stronger as she followed the path. And yet despite her hunger, she kept thinking of her lover, her memory playing the events from last night over and over. She was arousing herself thinking of him constantly, and on more than one occasion she thought about turning back. She didn't want to leave him or the other humans, but her stomach's insistent growling demanded sustenance. She'd been walking at a hurried pace, hoping to find something soon. As she followed the path over the next ridge, she came upon a large cabin in the distance, the sweet smell beckoning to her. She made her way down the slope as the aroma grew stronger. Her mouth was watering as she climbed the steps to the entrance. Suddenly she paused, her singing coming to an abrupt halt.

Something didn't feel right.

Her stomach gurgled, pressing the urge to eat. She hesitated, her sense of unease strong. She walked in slowly, scanning the first floor. In the living room a strange black box sat on a table next to the wall, with strange noise emanating from it. Perhaps that's what was giving her a sense of unease? There were stairs to her right, and an open room to the left.

The witch smelled the air again. The lingering sweet scent was off to the left. She walked into the kitchen area, spying some open cupboards. Tipped over on the first shelf was a jar of honey, its gooey contents spilling onto the cupboard and counter top. She greedily snatched up the jar and began drinking the sugary liquid.

The hunter crawled from behind the open door, slowly creeping towards the witch. Her attention was diverted as she supped her honey. He would be on her in a second…

The floor beneath the hunter's feet creaked, causing the witch to turn around in surprise.

With a blood curdling screech, the hunter lunged towards his startled prey.


A/N: More coming. I hadn't planned on this being more than one chapter, but the story just grew on me. Review please.