User:LoneWolfHBS5/Fanfiction

I've read a few fanfictions based on Left 4 Dead (the most recent was Nightmirage's) and I was pretty inspired to make my own. Yes, I once said I am not going to make one but temptations are hard to resist. I am not really a good writer but believe me when I say this: My best effort is usually there. Thanks for visiting this page and if you have any comments or complaints, I welcome them. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings. All was created by Valve and hence, is not mine. This is purely fan-made so please, don't sue me.

 Left 4 Dead Fanfiction: 

 The Blood Pact 

12 days after first infection

 Chapter 1: 

Chaos looms over the once peaceful country of the United States. Screams of the dying echoes throughout the lands and shall remain in the ears of the surviving few. Buildings were torn apart and blazes surrounded the destroyed terrain. No man can ever walk through the streets without awe at such a horrible sight. Hell has come to Earth.

A lone man walked past the empty street, staring at the damned city which he once remembered as his hometown and a place where smiles were a common sight. The gloomy sight it shows brought misery into his eyes. “Whiskey One. Do you read me?” the voice of a young man was heard on his radio. He took it out of his pocket and replied, “Whiskey One here. I hear you son.” Seconds later, a reply came, “Good to hear you alive there old timer. Many volunteers have lost their lives already. We don’t want yet another. Do you need me to remind you of your objective?” Despite his age which ranges within the sixties, Whiskey One was confident about his memory. “There is no need for any recalling boy. I know what I am supposed to do.”

“I see you are pretty confident. Alright but just be careful gramps. Remember that the safety of any survivors is your key objectives. Ignore everything that CEDA said about firearms; just give the survivors any guns if you have any extra. Don’t rely on them too much though. Good luck. King four out.” The radio went silent and Whiskey One placed it back onto his pocket. Turning on the flashlight attached onto the barrel of his reliable M16 rifle, he marched slowly through the dark city. With the finger on the trigger, he was ready to shoot should the situation calls for it while keeping an ear out for any still living and healthy humans.

Suddenly, he heard what appeared to be frenzied screams coming from a dark alley next to him. He turned towards the scream and was nearly shocked by the sight of angry humans, sprinting towards him at a speed which he felt was impossible to reach. The flashlight did little to blind those humans temporarily. Their faded skins, yellow eyes, nonsensical wails and bloody clothes only revealed one thing: They are infected by the virus. “I survived Nam and I certainly won’t let you bastards eat me!” Whiskey One shouted. He pulled his rifle’s trigger, sending a wave of bullets flying at the infected humans, slaughtering them one by one. Blood spurted onto his face and he wiped them off with his old army clothes. As he stared at the blood, he wondered about his fate in the future.

“I hope I’m immune.”

* * *

Even in these desperate times, people still willed themselves to respect the dead when survival was clearly a number one priority. Deep within a city, a young, lonely man was inside an abandoned warehouse, scanning the whole building for any blankets or towels which he might be able to find. After minutes of searching, he found a large pile and brought them to a room littered with corpses, both human and infected. He placed the blankets outside the room and went in to pull out the human corpses. He carefully lined them up and covered them with the blankets he found. That was the least he could do to the humans who held out against a large horde of infected with him. Before he covered up the last one, he murmured out, “Dave, your old pal Louis is going to miss you buddy.”

Picking up the submachine gun which he relied on entirely to survive, he walked out of the warehouse through the back entrance to find for any glimmer of hope. Holding out led to the demise of his friends and hence, he was not ready to make the same mistake and suffer the same fate. The infection destroyed his former life and took away his job, yet he now knows that his job is to survive and not let his friends’ death come to vain. “Death will have to pry me off the Earth. Things may look gloomy now but it can only get better.” Louis reassured himself as he continued to walk through the alley of darkness.

Out of the sudden, he heard what sounded like a loud, animal-like roar followed by loud gunshots. The amount of shock he received was nearly overwhelming but it gave him the idea that some people are still alive. He followed the noise and the closer he got, the louder the noise gets. Several screams and thrashing sounds were heard and much to his amazement, the ground trembled lightly. Suddenly, there was complete silence. Thinking that it was foolhardy to just run into the scene, he raised his gun and walked slowly towards a corner of the alley. He peeked out and saw one of the most frightening sights he ever seen.

A large humanoid creature was standing in the middle of the street. His skin was completely gray in color and his torso muscles were extremely large. He stood in a way similar to gorillas and was breathing like a rabid beast. The concrete under him seemed to have been ripped out and the surrounding walls appeared destroyed. Blood was smeared all over; some seemed to have come from the bullet wounds all over the creature. Though he did not look like one, Louis was certain that the creature was indeed human. The creature started to turn towards his direction, making light trembles in the process. By instinct, Louis pulled his head in and plastered himself onto the brick wall behind him. He heard the creature growling slightly and the sounds of the trembling ground revealed that the creature was walking. Fortunately, it got softer; the creature was leaving the scene.

After checking to ensure that the creature was gone, Louis ran into the ravaged street to see if anyone may have survived the creature’s attack. Still, all he saw was corpses. However, unlike most corpses he had seen, majority of them were half destroyed. Some appeared flat and on a pool of blood. The creature may have apparently smashed them to death but with what? Louis dared not think about how dangerous that creature may be. Weapons were also found along with the corpses, most of which are shotguns. The clothes of the deceased there reminded Louis of bikers, with their leather jackets and black gloves. Louis was just about to leave the scene when he heard someone growling in pain.

He turned to the sound and it seemed to be coming from under a pile of debris. Using all the strength that he could muster, Louis pulled out the rocks and saw a young man laying there. His face had wounds all over but nothing too permanent. Like the corpses, he was wearing a black leather vest and a pair of black leather gloves. He had a white sleeveless shirt underneath and a pair of black pants. His arms were covered in tattoo and oddly, it was free of wounds. The man was semiconscious but still wailing in pain. Thinking that the man could still be helped, he pulled the large man out and dragged him into the dark alley.

Leaning the man onto the wall, Louis tried to wake him up. After several hard shakes, the heavy-laden eyes of the biker slowly opened up, revealing his brown iris. “Yo, you alright there man?” Louis asked. After several groans, the biker replied, “Mama?” Clearly, he was still dazed. Louis lightly slapped the biker’s face and said, “Dude, snap out of it. Are you ok?” Eventually, the biker was fully awake. “Damn it this hurts.” The biker murmured as he rubbed several of his wounds. When he noticed Louis, he asked, “Who the hell are you?” Louis replied, “Name’s Louis. I found you lying under a pile of debris. You have a name?” Out of the sudden, the biker shoved him away, though his weakened strength did little. “I can look after myself alright. Leave me alone Mr. Goodie Two Shoes.” The biker tried, but failed to stand up.

<p style="text-align:justify">Louis approached the biker and said, “Man, you are pretty beaten up there. Don’t push yourself. Stay down and rest.” “I don’t want to stay down. I got vampires to kill!” the biker retorted. Louis was initially confused by the term, “vampire” which the biker used but decided to ignore it. “Don’t be stubborn man. Unless you want to die fast, you better stay down and rest.” “I hate this world just as much as I hate vampires. I don’t care if I die. I’d rather die than be sitting next to a damned business man reject.” The biker said with a noticeable amount of confidence.

<p style="text-align:justify">Getting rather annoyed with the biker, Louis told him, “Look, I came all the way to your body to save your damned ass. I could’ve save my own ass and let you die under the rubble and if you are going to bitch around when clearly there are bitches are all over the place, I can just shoot you now and…” His sentence trailed off when he realized that his anger was clearly controlling his words. Taking a moment to calm himself down, he told the biker, “Listen, forget what I said. We are both in the middle of hell and there are only so few of us left that I think we should start working together. Like me or not, you know almost too well what those vampires did to your friends. Please cooperate with me here.” Even though he hated to admit it, the biker thought that Louis was right. He sat down quietly and said, “Whatever you say man.”

<p style="text-align:justify">Thinking that there is truce between them, Louis extended a hand out to the biker and asked, “You have a name?” The biker stared at his hand for a while before accepting it and said, “I’m Francis.” They shook hands and a smile slowly formed on Louis’s face. “Now, let’s have a look at those wounds on your face.” Louis said as he reached out for the wounds on Francis’s face. Suddenly, Francis recoiled and shouted, “Don’t you be touching my face! Leave it alone! Let it heal itself.” Louis backed away and replied, “Alright. Your face is more important that your health I guess.”

<p style="text-align:center">* * *

<p style="text-align:justify">Five tiresome encounters with the Infected and yet, not survivors were spotted. Whiskey One’s luck in fulfilling his objective was beginning to fade away, just like his luck in finding peace after years of surviving a war. He was practically untouched by the Infected but even with his background as a Special Forces soldier, an old man with a bad knee was not made to walk many miles and shoot simultaneously. His sight was beginning to blur and his whole body was covered in sweat. The weight of his rifle was not doing anything to help him stand upright. “God damn infection. Nam feels almost like home compared to this.” he murmured to himself.

<p style="text-align:justify">His senses snapped back when he heard a loud scream coming from behind him. He turned his flashlight towards the noise and saw a large number of infected humans running at his direction. He went down to a knee and opened fire on the Infected, killing them as they continued running towards him. Everything went well and the Infected barely reached him, until he heard a loud thud coming from right behind him. He turned around and saw a tall man, wearing a purple hooded jacket and snarling at him. Whiskey One saw his hands and they were unlike a human’s as his nails were long and sharp. The man raised one of his hands and Whiskey One barely saved himself when he rolled forward. He fired on the mutated Infected and killed him with several shots. The brief encounter he had with the man, however, distracted Whiskey One from a bigger problem.

<p style="text-align:justify">The group of Infected he engaged earlier on catches up and knocked Whiskey One onto the floor. A strong stomp on Whiskey One’s hand disarmed him and they began to stamp and beat Whiskey One to his coming demise. Whiskey One began to wail in pain as he was helplessly dying under the hands of the Infected. His world slowly went black and he was about to lose consciousness. Hope seemed lost to him when he suddenly heard a loud gunshot coming from a distance. Several other gunshots followed and very swiftly, the Infected surrounding Whiskey One was killed. Whiskey One turned his head to his right to see several figures in the dark, walking towards him. Before he could tell who they truly were, blessed unconscious fell upon him.

<p style="text-align:justify"> Chapter 2: 

<p style="text-align:justify">“So…uh…Francis right? What were you and your buddies doing just now?” Louis asked as Francis was retrieving his weapon from his previous battle. He picked up the dusty weapon from the floor and shot it once to see if it was still functional. He then pumped it once and reloaded it with a single shell from his pocket. He turned to Louis and replied, “Killing the god damn vampires. That’s what we have been doing unlike you ladies who ran away. We were having the time of our lives.” Louis retorted, “I ain’t exactly running away. I was holding out in a warehouse with a few others. We think it was better to stay there instead of running for the military evacuation centre.”

<p style="text-align:justify">“Screw the god damn army!” Francis bellowed. “You’re pretty smart to not be listening to them useless assholes.” Louis shook his head and replied, “Not really. I realized it was a mistake after all my buddies were killed so I decided to look for them.” Francis’s brows rose upon hearing Louis’s words. He then said, “Right. I take back what I said. You’re an asshole too.” “Yo, easy on the insults alright? We are friends now. So tell me, what exactly killed your friends and nearly killed you?” Louis asked. “Killed my friends? Then why are you still breathing?” Francis said with sarcasm. Louis shook his head with annoyance and replied, “I meant your old buddies, not me.”

<p style="text-align:justify">Francis was silent for a while. He was deep in thought as he remembered the creature which he last encountered. “I don’t want talk about it. I’d rather be hunting that son of a bitch down instead of standing here and talking crap. So, we getting out of here or not? I already hate this place.” Louis nodded in agreement, seeing that his choices were limited.

<p style="text-align:justify">As the duo continued walking down the street, the road split into three different directions, each perpendicular to one another. Francis looked around and began scratching his nearly bald head in confusion. “So…which way should we go?” Francis asked. Louis answered, “Anywhere’s better than here.” “Fine.” Francis said and he quickly made the choice of going to the front direction.

<p style="text-align:justify">“Let’s hope that the army is anywhere near where we are going.” Louis told Francis. “I don’t hope and I certainly don’t need the army. I can stay here and just kill the damn vampires forever. I can get used to a life like this.” Francis said. Louis retorted, “You ain’t right in the head to be thinking that killing the Infected is fun.” “And you ain’t right in the head to be hoping and thinking so positively. We are going be doomed anyway.” Francis retaliated. Louis replied, “It is worth doing at least.” “Well fine then. Let’s see if the army starts shooting us when they see us.”

<p style="text-align:center">* * *

“Are you sure it is a good idea to be staying here and helping this old fella out? We were looking for help, not helping others.” the voice of a young male was heard as Whiskey One saw nothing but darkness. He had awakened but his eyes remained stubbornly closed. Another young female voice followed, “Hey come on. This old man needs help and with zombies all over the place, every man counts. No left behind right?” “Yeah but if we stay here, the zombie might just come in and attack. That always happen in the movies we watch.” the young male replied. Whiskey One opened heavy-laden lids at last and the first sight he saw was a young girl, looking down towards him. Her hand was on his head and the warmth kept him calm.

“Hey Virgo, he’s awake.” the girl said as a beaming smile formed on her face. Her hunter green eyes lit and a boy, who Whiskey One assumed was Virgo, peeked at him. As Whiskey One observed their appearance, he realized that both had jackets on. Virgo’s was dark blue while the girl’s was bright red. He presumed that they were both students, considering their youthful appearance and bright demeanor. He then turned his attention to the surrounding and judging by the stock and the entrance door, they were in a makeshift safe room. “Who…who are you?” Whiskey One asked.

“My name is Zoey. This is Virgo. We heard your screams and found you while you were under attack by zombies.” the girl answered. “Zombies?” Whiskey One asked, confused with the term. Virgo replied, “We call them zombies because the infected people look like one.” “Do you have a name old man?” Zoey asked. Whiskey One sat up and answered, “I’m Master Sergeant William Overbeck.” “Whoa, give us a shorter version of your name.” Virgo said. Whiskey One sighed and replied, “Fine. Call me Bill. I guess I owe you two for saving me.”

“Are you alright Bill? The zombies really beat the shit out of you.” Zoey asked. She passed him his beret and Bill put it back on. He then answered, “I’ve had worse. As long as I can stand, I’m fine.” “I think you should rest though. After being beaten up like that, you must not push yourself too hard.” Zoey suggested. Suddenly, Bill chuckled. “You reminded me of my mother.”

“Are you from the army? Your gun there looks pretty sweet.” Virgo said as he pulled Bill’s M16 from a side of the room. As Virgo started to pull the weapon’s charging handle, Bill snatched it away and said, “This is no toy to be playing with boy. And yes, I was from the military. I volunteered to help the army find survivors, though apparently the survivors found me.” Virgo then asked, “But you’re not even wearing the ACU. You are wearing a green, unkempt jacket.” “You should start listening to your History teacher kid. This was the old military uniform. I fought at Nam many years ago.” Bill retorted.

“Now where is my cigarette? I kept it in my pocket.” he asked as he began stuffing his hands into the many pockets he had. Zoey passed to him his box of cigarettes and Bill immediately lit one up. “Smoking isn’t exactly good for you, especially since we are running from zombies these days.” Zoey warned him. “That’s just a load of horseshit that people make up, just like how CEDA made up about the virus being airborne.” As Bill began to scratch an itch on his back, he felt two holes on the back of his uniform. He then remembered the strange man with the long claws that nearly killed him. He murmured, “I was luckier than many other men.”

“So, you two know how to use a gun?” Bill asked. Virgo nodded while Zoey picked up a scoped rifle and said, “We both spent some time hunting before the infection started and we also picked up some skills from the movies we watch.” “Movies?” Bill asked with awe. Virgo nodded and replied, “Yup. Horror movies. Zoey and I spent a lot of our college time watching movies. Lucky for us since we are in a horror movie now.” Bill smirked and said, “Alright then. I guess things just got easier for me. You two kids want to get out of this city right?" Zoey and Virgo nodded with a child-like beaming smile. "We better start moving now. Those things you call "zombies" have a tendency to attack when we least expect them to."

“Keep your eyes and ears out for anything suspicious people. Don’t want those bastards to be attacking us without us noticing them first.” Bill advised them. Zoey and Virgo could not agree any further. Their hearts race with anticipation at the thought of shooting fast-moving zombies. They never had any near-death experience like Bill had minutes ago but they were indeed afraid of such a thing. Still, after a few minutes of following Bill in the darkness, no zombies were encountered. “Where exactly are we going gramps?” Virgo asked. Bill replied, “To an evacuation center. The military is holding out at that place. We better get there before the base gets overrun by hostiles.” “What if it did get overrun?” Zoey asked.

“Simple. We are FUBAR.”