Left 4 Dead: Dread and Sorrow


(Alright, this is my second story that is being put on here and I'd like it if some of you amazing readers could take a moment out of your time to review and leave a comment on this story and on my other one, Teen Titans: A Demon's Redemption. If someone has questions, just ask by either PMing me personally or just leave it in a review and I'll answer you within a day. Thanks everybody. Now, without further ado, Let it begin!)

I've been tracking them for a few days. The old man, I had thought he would die first but consider me surprised. He is remarkably strong and well focused. He might be old and reek of smoke but he holds them together. It's obvious he is a veteran soldier from both his stance and his pea green beret and uniform. He uses some kind of assault rifle, perhaps an M16. There is a man, possibly in his thirties, dressed mainly in leather which he smells of. His weapon of choice is a pump-action shotgun. There are two other males, one is black and the other is white but quite tanned. The black one wears a white, blood-stained shirt, a loose tie and torn trousers. He reminds me of a business man except he has a submachine gun in his arms. He also smells of sweat, like the others and faintly smells of paper.

The last guy has the look of a soldier about him, like the old man but he seems lighter on his feet. He is far less aware then the older men and yet, he is experienced. He's wearing a pair of black combat trousers, blacks boots and a grey hoodie with the hood down. His short brown hair is cut severely and professionally. He smells like the old man, of sweat and smoke. He has a pistol out and he has a sniper rifle on his back. Then there is the youngest looking of the group, a girl with long brown hair that's in a pony tail. She wears a bright pink hoodie, some ragged trainers and some jeans. Her scent is nothing special, just full of sweat and hormones. Although, it does make me drool thinking of tearing her soft flesh away from her bones and drinking her blood. I feel revolted with myself a moment after this.

The Infected side of my mind, my instincts, they battle the part of me that remains. They fight for supremacy of my mind. I've let go of my human side at moments of weakness and hunger. The results were…terrifying, to say the least. I don't wish to hurt them but they intrigue me. Why aren't they like me? Why aren't they like my Lesser cousins, the ones that shamble about? The animal, the instincts, they scream at me to tear them apart, to rend the flesh from their bones, to hunt them. I wish to speak with them but they have killed many of the Lessers so I dare not. So I threw both of these ideas away completely and help them while they sleep instead.

I clear their path just before the sun rises so it's easier for them. That said, I wasn't prepared a few minutes ago as a fat man with boils on his face wandered towards me dribbling green ooze. I clawed him like all the rest but unlike the Lessers, he exploded. The green slime splattered all over me and I could instantly tell my clothes were ruined. The Lessers that were in the dirty alley at the time attacked me in some kind of frenzy.

I had to leap to the rooftops to escape most of them but there was a few that attacked me up here. I dealt with them. I'm currently using a few spare rags I pulled out of my bag to clean myself up when I hear voices in the alley down below. Placing the rags inside my shoulder bag, I look over the edge and see the Humans. The older one is checking out the corpse of the vomiter. It so needs a better name then that... 'Ain't seen nothing like this before…' He mutters, inspecting some of the slime. The leather clad man grumbles 'Don't let that stop you from wiping it all over yourself.'

The old man gave him a dirty look and wiped the slime on his leather vest causing him to jump away and moan about it, calling the old man 'Bill.' Well, that's obviously his name. The biker looking guy is such a bitch. The dark skin, the young man and I all chuckle at his reaction and they freeze and look up sharply. Luckily, I roll backwards out of sight and a Lesser has just stuck her head over the edge.

Her head exploded in a shower of gore. 'Nice shot, Hugo.' The girl exclaims. I nod in silent approval. I growl, angry with myself. This feeling needs to stop! I haven't had fresh meat in days! I've eaten leftovers and human food! HUMAN FOOD! I'm not HUMAN; I shouldn't be eating their food! Then again, I need to appear human if they see me and not eating fresh meat will change my appearance to a more human form... My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a woman crying from the room five feet away from them and a chill runs up my spine as I remember my own experiences with a very specific Infected that always cried.

'Someone's still alive!' The girl says. There's a weird catch in her voice. Maybe It's hope? The others seem to share it. I hope as well, that it's not what I think it is. The old one nods toward the girl and they head towards it. Bill opens the door and mutters 'Flashlight.' She nods and flicks the switch. The young man looks to the others and says 'Hey Lou, Frankie. Guess Zoey's gonna have to share tampons now, huh?' The leather clad man and dark skinned guy smirk as the girl –Zoey- yells 'I heard that, jackass!'

The crying woman's moans intensify. A lightning bolt flashes across the sky and Zoey and Bill stop speaking suddenly. A few moments later, noises are coming from the other end of the alleyway. The dark skin and the leather clad man instantly look around, as do I. A horde of Lessers is charging down the alley heading right for them.

The leather clad man and the y begin to shoot at them with their guns, the leather clad man using a shotgun, the young man using his hunting rifle. 'Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit! OH SHIT!' The dark skin begins yelling and rushes in after Bill and Zoey. An inhuman, unearthly screech fills the room and they come rushing out of it. Zoey and Bill join Hugo and leather man in slaughtering the Lessers. The dark skin braces himself against the door as a large dent appears in the door. Then another and suddenly, a gray arm claws through the door, leaving a large hole in it and a woman I gravely recognize it as a Witch.

Her skin is gray and each of her fingers ends in razor sharp claws, each a foot in length and she wears torn grey panties and a sports bra. The dark skin begins screaming and unloads his bullets into the screaming woman. The bullets don't even faze her and she swings her hands wildly, trying to slice him up, barely missing him. He just keeps shooting her. He yells 'OH, DO YOU LIKE THAT?!' She gives a pitiful moan and finally dies. They gather together and make a line from wall to wall. 'Stick together!' No sooner that these words were yelled, Bill, who's at the back of the group, is grabbed by some kind of purple rope.

He's quickly dragged backwards and something tries to pull him up the fire escape. My eyes follow the rope until they reach the top of the metal stairs where a disgusting sight meets my eyes. An infected is standing at the top with the purple rope coming out of its mouth. 'It's a tongue!' I mutter, fascinated. As Bill struggles to breath, I leap about fifteen feet over the rooftops to save him. At a closer look, the creature is grotesque.

Its mouth is covered with painful boils and its goes down his right arm. His every breath is punctuated with green smoke and racking coughs. I strike downwards with my right hand, my claws shearing through the disgusting weapon. Bill drags in a ragged breath and the dark skin looks around and sees Bill, still wrapped in the tongue. He rushes over, shooting left and right to stop the Lessers from overwhelming them both. As he's pulling him up, I'm staring down the Tounger. He takes a swipe at me, I duck down and do a claw uppercut, remembering my experiences with these particular creatures. His jaw is destroyed and he explodes in a cloud of more smoke.

I leap again, this time on top of the roof opposite the fire escape. 'Thanks, Louis.' Bill grumbles as the dark man picks him up. A Lesser charges at them from behind, only to have its head blown to bits by Frankie. He says 'Merry Christmas' with a smirk. Zoey has something in her hand that has a lit fuse. 'FIRE IN THE HOLE!' She screams and she throws it over the Lessers. They instantly go after the beeping, flashing object. I feel a slight urge myself to attack it myself but easily repress it.

Soon the beeping becomes one long, shrill noise that hurts my ears. A sudden explosion lights the night along with a shower of gore and most of them are dazed from the explosion but Louis is not. He stands up quickly and looks up. So do I. It's a news helicopter, for channel five. Louis runs after it yelling 'Hey! Down here! We're not Infected!' He runs outta the alley shortly followed by Hugo and, unbeknownst by them, me.

Louis has a head start and I see him standing next to some cars and the street. It's pretty deserted actually when compared to other parts of the city. Not a single Infected in sight. Good, I was getting tired of seeing them all the time. I hear him saying 'Dammit!' Heh. Man seems pissed. A slight growl cuts through the silence like a knife, coming from across the street from me, I look over, and I see an all too familiar Infected.

Its build is similar to me but it's definitely different from me. For one thing, it smells like more like the Lessers then anything else I've encountered and it smells nothing like me. For another, I wash my clothes and myself. I also don't have sores and boils on my arms. For another thing, I've already met this kind before. I named them 'Hunters' because of the way they track their prey down and wait for the right moment to strike. They're quite intelligent, for being undead.

It wears a dark blue/gray hoodie with the hood up and dark stains on it, blood maybe? The sleeves of the hoodie has tape and bandages on it, probably from injuries or to lessen the wind resistance when leaping. Brown, dirty combat trousers, perfect for moving about cover its lower body with more tape on it and with boots on. It's hanging off of the rooftop with one arm and with its feet on a window sill just beneath it. I notice movement beneath it.

Hugo see's it. He looks back down to Louis and runs at him as the monster tenses. Hugo shoves him outta the way the same time I leap to the floor and at the same time the Infected leaps straight through the air at them. The Hunters' aim is true and he lands on Hugo and begins tearing at him, with Hugo putting up a real fight. He's incredibly brave and loyal. As I leap straight at them, The Hunter chomps down on his forearm.

Hugo roars in pain and the Hunter is about to slice his face off when I shoulder barge it. Louis is still dazed and the others are still in the alley and Hugo can barely move so it's up to me I guess. Greeeat. Now I'm a fucking zombie hero. That's not completely messed up, is it? The Hunter is not happy to say the least. It pounces at me, murder in its glare. I duck down, letting it pass over me. It lands and turns, teeth bared. Dropping my bag, I dash to him and he slashes at me with his claws. I block his attacks and he starts to get desperate, slamming his fists and claws into me. I grab his arms and I slam my leg into his gut, hearing a cracking sound. He tries to pull away but I kick him again and this time I let go, letting him drop to the floor as he clutches his torso. He rolls onto his back and whimpers pitifully as it tries to crawl away on its stomach.

Its ribs and organs are so messed up.

It struggles weakly as I grab its head with both hands. My arms tense up as I apply my tremendous strength and with a vomit inducing sound, its head comes off followed by a large quantity of blood. I throw the head to the side and walk over to Hugo. The prognosis is not good. He's covered in blood and his clothes are a bit torn but they should be repairable. His worst injury is easily the bite he's been given. It's deep and is already turning yellow, although, that could have been from its saliva. A tooth from the Hunter is in the arm.

Thankfully, by some miracle, none of the major tendons or veins have been damaged. I grab his med pack from beside the car and I begin to clean the damaged area. After I do, I begin wrap him up. He starts to mumble stuff and begins to struggle in his unconscious state but I push his arm back down and I slap him. 'Stop pushing me and wake up, ya moron.' I growl. He needs to wake up or when the others show up they'll just shoot me dead. Again. I hate being like his, it's so damn confusing... My thoughts are interrupted by the tooth in his arm as I go to wrap it. I pause, grab it and begin to pull. Hugo moans in pain but I ignore him. The tooth comes free easy enough and I begin to wrap his arm.

As I finish, I hear footsteps in the alleyway. Grabbing my bag and leaping to the rooftops, I look back down and watch the rest of the group reach Louis and Hugo. I look around, sit and close my eyes, bored and tired. No infected in sight? What miracle is this? I comment within the vaults of my mind. A gunshot runs through the air and a car alarm activates. Jumping to my feet, I look down at the group of survivors and curse myself. Blood covers the car near where the Hunter was dispatched and a Lesser with a hole through his chest lies on the hood of the now shrieking vehicle. Goddammit! How could I miss one?!

They gather in the middle of the street, Hugo swallowing a couple of pills. He stands up a little straighter but puts his rifle to the floor, the stress on the bite on his wrist too much too handle. He pulls out his pistol, checking the clip and, seemingly satisfied; he points it at the approaching horde. I look down the street and I consider helping them directly. The horde coming at them is enormous. All of them except Francis turn and being firing at the Lessers trying to climb over the twelve foot fence.

Looking back at the horde approaching the survivors, I notice a true monster heading for them. A hulking mass of muscle with no visible lower jaw with veins throbbing in his whole body, It moves like a gorilla, using its knuckles as another pair of legs to move. Roaring, it punches a car through the air which narrowly misses them. They all flinch, except Francis who is staring the monster down, and they begin to back away as one. 'Run or shoot.' Louis mutters. No answer. 'Run or SHOOT?!' He says a little louder. I can tell he's panicking.

'BOTH!' Bill's voice rings with authority with this command and they run down an alley opposite the buildings I'm standing on. Taking a few steps back, I run straight forward. When my feet are on the edge, I bend my legs and jump. It was strange, training myself to do this sort of thing. I felt like I could leap over buildings when I first turned but I took precautions first. I land on the building roughly and go with momentum, rolling and getting to my feet with the same motion. I run across the rooftop, killing a Tounger near the edge, watching them.

I recoil in horror as The leather clad man drops his gun in a daze and as Bill comes to his rescue. He narrowly misses being turned into paste by the behemoth as it slams into a wall, destroying it and going through it. They all run up the fire escape, Zoey giving them cover fire with dual pistols. They are all up the fire escape when the monster hits the fire escape that Zoey is standing on. She falls against the edge, one of her pistols falling down. The muscled zombie jumps and rips the metal from the building with the girl still on it!

I don't even think as I drop down at the same moment she jumps up and is grabbed by the hand by the young man, Hugo. I feel momentary relief but returned horror as his grip fails and she falls through his bloody fingers. Leaping, I grab her in mid jump and go through the window of the building. The glass shatters and I feel cuts all over my bear arms and a gnash on my shoulder. I look down at her and, thankfully, she's unconscious.

I get up and carry her bridal style over to a half destroyed couch and lay her down on it. I straighten and I realise that it's only now that I actually get a good look at her. Small, pink stylish hoodie, dirty jeans that are turned up at the bottom and a pair of bedraggled converse which means she obviously hasn't washed them for a while. Maybe since the beginning of the Infection. She has long brown hair in a ponytail with a fringe. She's obviously very beautiful. Her scent up close is strange; it reminds me of something that I can't name.

I lean down over her until we are a few inches away. I take in her scent, my primal side screaming for flesh and my logical side trying to pull me away. 'No. I won't.' I mutter, turning away and limping towards the window on the opposite side of the room. I climb out of it and go down, slowly and painfully. I reach the floor and I walk for what feels like hours. I eventually collapse against a building as the pain and fatigue catch up with me. I spot a shattered window and what looks like a bed inside. I weakly walk over to it, barely standing.

I Go inside through a broken window and I find a makeshift bedroom with a hunting rifle propped against a bed with ammo for it on a night table. I resist the urge to fall into the bed and I instead check my injuries and clothes. My white t shirt is completely torn and stained with some of that green shit that smells funky, several tears in the fabric on my torso and a large slash is on the shoulder of the material. Sighing, I grip the now worthless top and tear it off with my steel hard claws.

I notice that my light jeans and trainers are almost completely covered in dry slime. I open my bag and pull out a pair of artfully faded dark jeans and a pair of flexible boots. I put them on and throw the other jeans and trainers out of the window. I then pull out a familiar jacket. It was mine before the Infection, I can remember that. It has fur lined cuffs, shoulders and a high collar and it has fur on the inside. The fur is a light brown and the leather is a dark brown. I put it on top of my bag on the floor and head towards the bed. Collapsing onto it; I fall into a restless sleep as a few tattered memories bubble to the surface of my dreams.


'FUCKING CAMPERS! I'M GONNA BEAT THE SHIT OUT OFF ALL OF YOU!' I glare at the screen, enraged at the terrible skill level of the campers on Halo. 'WHO CAMPS WITH THE POWER WEAPONS?! OH YEA! EVERYONE!' My door opens and in pops a man with a small beard. His features are striking and his hair is a dark brown, along with his eyes. A small irritated smirk causes his features to become almost arrogant.

'Would you mind keeping the volume down? Not everyone is as shit as you on Halo ya know.' His voice is condescending and arrogant but his eyes are alight with humour. 'Go fuck yourself.' I growl, not bothering to try and play anymore. 'Oh, that was sooo harsh. You really hurt my feelings.' He grins, arms crossed.

I snarl and leap at him, grabbing him with one hand and trying to pummel him with my other. He laughs out loud and begins to block all my punches and even pins me to the floor. 'You're just too slow, baby bro! Ya gotta get quicker!' He is genuinely amused as I struggle underneath him, frustrated. I yell out and with great effort, I push him off me. He falls back but gets to his feet in quick time.

I throw in a quick kick but he dodges to the left and he doesn't hit back. I raise an eyebrow as I throw a couple of jabs at him and he dodges them all. He cocks his head to the side and asks 'Are you even trying?' I grit my teeth and throw my arm in a wide arc to his head. He blocks it with both arms and I quickly kick his exposed side, winding him slightly. He steps back, rubbing his side, still smiling. 'Nice. You're beginning to learn, Fi-!'


My eyes wrench themselves open just as the last word is about to be uttered. I sigh deeply, depression settling in my mind. The Infection doesn't just alter a normal human being's body. It destroys their minds. It's why most Infected are like mindless animals that only go on instinct.

A scarce few of us have retained our human minds but I don't think any have still got their memories. I shudder as I remember the metamorphosis that turned me into this creature. A few faces swim before my eyes as I remember a building and screams. A brown skinned man and a face hidden in shadows burn themselves in my mind as I feel a multitude of emotions for them both.

Anger, sadness, shame and more fill me but I don't know why. I growl angrily and sit on the edge of the bed. Uneasiness settles in my thoughts as I think about the faces. The brown skinned man. Now that I think of him, I remember small things, things hardly worth remembering. He's nineteen, he hates his father and step mother, he doesn't like tuna and his nickname for me is 'Little man' which is ridiculous as I am about six foot and two inches. I shake my head, mourning my lost humanity and stolen memories. I pull my bag close and I rummage through it, seeking a memento from a recent memory.