It was dark, so dark that the Hunter's hoodie could barely be seen. Only movement would show he was present, if not the loud screech he sounded as he pounced on his victim. Or even the eerie orange glow of his eyes. But he wasn't out tonight to feed on a Survivor's flesh. No, he was out to see her. All he had to do was listen to the sound of crying, only then would her presence be confirmed. He leapt rooftops, pausing every now and then to see if maybe he had missed something. After getting tired from leaping so much, he dropped down onto the ground. I may as well give up. . . He began to walk back to where he had came from, feeling disappointment making his steps slow and sad, until the sound of a moan hit his ears . . . Yes! She was close by!
He ran into a dark alley, knocking down a trashcan in his haste, to see a beautiful girl standing a dozen yards away. Yes, it was the Witch! He knew most others would find her hideous, the grime plastered to her body, her torn clothes, everything about her. But he found her quite beautiful. All you had to do was look past the unattractive features. Before she got infected, she was probably a sight to behold. But right now, to him, she was pretty enough.
He peeked around a trashcan he had been hiding behind, not knowing if he should let his presence be known yet. Besides, he didn't want to startle her. No, that's the worst thing you could do. Startling a Witch is like begging for your death. But he knew she would leave soon, still crying, mourning over something that nobody knew about, except for the Witch herself. He didn't want to think about that. Seeing her cry made him want to cry with her. Taking one shuddering breath, he dashed towards her, his feet thumping against the ground. Putting weight on his legs, he pushed with his arms when he was halfway there, proppeling himself through the air, only to land barely a foot in front of her. He froze as a growl rose in her throat, which turned into a steady snarling. What had he gotten himself into? The girl he had thought was the most beautiful thing to him was now a danger to his life, and any moment she would attack, slashing at him with her claws, until he was nothing but scraps . . .
He took a few steps back, but not because he was backing down. No, if she was a danger to him, he wasn't going to cower down and show her he was afraid, even if he was. He let a snarl escape his throat, even though he knew he could never attack her. But she stopped. All the noise she had been making was gone. He stared at her, even though he had no eyes. Only an orange glow, but it was just like hers. They were alike, Infected, and he knew that once she had calmed down, she would realize that they were on the same side. They only stared at each other, taking in each other's presence. After a while he finally managed to say,"Hi."
The Witch only looked at him as if he had hugged a Boomer. "Uh . . ." He looked away, feeling embarrased and self-concious. Why was she staring at him like that? He looked back as the Witch replied in a shaky voice,"H-Hello." Wait . . . Was she afraid of him? Yeah he had snarled at her, but it was because she was a threat. Now they were just standing there like two idiots, not knowing what to say to each other. "Well , um, what are you doing out here alone, anyway?"he asked, wanting to at least start a conversation. Maybe he could even find out why she would always cry.
The Witch said bluntly,"What are you doing out here?" He felt a trickle of irritation as she only answered his question with another. But then again, he knew she was only afraid. He looked away again, feeling his cold, pale skin turn warm as he replied with a few moment's hesitation,"Looking for you." Silence. He looked back at her, only to see her looking away. Well, he had done it. Of course she wouldn't like him, not in the same way he liked her.
Still silence. So now he was only going to stare at her while she only looked away at nothing? No way. He turned and said out loud,"Forget it. Forget you had even met me tonight." His voice was filled with disappointment and hurt, and his heart beat painfully in his chest. He began to walk away, only to stop as the Witch's voice called after him,"Wait! Why are you leaving?" He looked back at her, feeling surprised and joyful at the same time. He waited until the Witch caught up to him, and relished the pleading look in her eyes, but also a different look he couldn't identify. Maybe it was the same feeling he felt, how his heart beated so fast when he saw her.
"Witch, why did you follow me?"
The Witch replied quietly,"Because I couldn't leave you. Seeing you walk away only makes me feel sad." Shock replaced the lovely feeling. Had she been watching him too? Had she been waiting for him this whole time? Maybe the reason she wouldn't speak to him was because she was embarrased as well. He smiled a small smile and replied in a voice filled with love and compassion,"And leaving you would make me feel sad as well." They stared into each other's eyes for a while, until the Witch leaned in closer. The Hunter stifled a gasp as he realized what she was going to do. A kiss? His heart beat faster and faster, until their lips almost touched. He wrapped his arms around her, but suddenly at the same time, an ear-splitting sound split the air.
He felt the Witch's body stiffen. But she didn't get up to attack whatever had hit her. The Witch's blood spilled onto the Hunter's hoodie, turning it a dark purple. The Witch's body grew limp, and she fell out of his arms onto the ground.
A small sound similar to a whimper sounded in the Hunter's throat, and he whispered pitifully,"Witch? G-Get up . . ." No movement. He felt overwhelming sadness sweep through his body, and tears formed in his eyes. "Gotcha! That'll show you, Witch!"a Southern voice echoed into the alley. A Survivor? The Hunter felt hatred and anger replace the sadness, and a loud growl sounded in his throat. But he wasn't going to charge up and attack the Survivor. No, that's something only a Charger or Tank would do. He was more clever than that.
With one last agonizing look at the Witch's dead body, he sprang at the side of a building, climbing the side of it with ease. Once he got to the roof, he glared down at the Survivor who had killed his precious Witch. A young man with a green baseball cap and a yellow T-Shirt. He prepared himself to leap. With a loud snarl mixed with fury and grief that echoed throughout the whole area, he jumped off the roof and landed on top of the Survivor. He ripped at the man's stomach, tearing his shirt into rags and ripping through his skin. He felt cold satisfaction at the man's agonized screams. He would show him what the Witch had felt, just ten times worse.
"Help me! Somebody get this thing off of me!"the Survivor hollered, and the Hunter knew who was going to come. He knew that Survivors wouldn't just wander alone. But all he could do was slash at the Witch's killer, avenging his love's death. But suddenly, a sharp pain sliced through his back. He turned his head to see another Survivor, a female with dark skin with a pink T-Shirt, holding an axe high above her head, preparing to hammer it down on his head. He could only stare in horror for a split-second as she brought it down on his head and everything went bl-
But within that brief moment, the Hunter realized why the Witch cried. She only wanted someone to keep her company, to hold her close and never let her go. For that cold loneliness to go away, and be replaced by the warm feelings of friendship. But, even after the Witch got what she needed, those humans killed her, along with the one who loved her, unaware of the thing they had done.