left 4dead 2

sassmoustache  asked:

Lalochezia - Nick (left for dead) have fun! ;)

Lalochezia - The use of abusive language to relieve stress or ease pain.

well here goes nothing


The rain was hitting his dirty skin, hard.

It had been hitting his dirty skin for hours. But he hadn’t noticed, and when a sliver of his mind did, he put it at the bottom of his priority list. That white suit, that had become dirty with mud and dust quickly, slowly became dirty with blood. Blood from a body that mattered to him. He didn’t want it to matter to him, but it did. He did.


The young man who was sloped in his arms, rested half awkwardly on his knees’, breath slowed. But it was still there, fighting its ass off to stay.

To stay with Nick, stay with him.

“-fuck, you need to stop bleeding, and start breathing better.”

He’d lost enough from the start. Plenty from the start that he didn’t care about it. Could it even count as losing, considering he didn’t care?

He didn’t give a shit about any of it. And he sure as hell didn’t care about it now.

This young man in his arms, was bizarrely the only thing that was important to him. There were no pills nearby, Rochelle had the last of them.

“Fucking, fucking hell…”

His voice was low and quiet, but enough for Ellis to hear him.

He’s wishing he can hear in the tone of his voice that he can care, because it pains his throat to even try and tell him that he cares. His ego doesn’t give a shit if hes letting out his feelings. It just hurts having to know that if he said it, it meant that he’d acknowledged that Ellis’ survival rate didn’t look good.

“Why the fuck are you so heavy, for fucks sake. Fucking fucks sake Ellis, you’re sure as hell not going down now but, fuck. Jesus Christ, I can’t. We’re kinda stuck at the minute.”

His own blood had seeped into the weave of his shirt. Ellis’ blood too, mixed in.But you couldn’t tell, it had all become one blur of red. Scattered on their clothes, on their hands, smudges on their faces.

He had his fingers in his hair, the slight curls bloodied. His eyes winced at the memory. It wasn’t even the zombies.

“It wasn’t even the fucking zombies, zombies that got you.”

He was so important to him. Why?

He took a sharp breath, and his throat hitched.

It was him.”

“It was him, Elllis… But he’s gone now. And he’s not coming back -”

His voice hitched again, and half sobs caught in his throat. That low murmur, was just about a murmur. Whispering hurt less, so he took to that instead.

“I’ll try and take you into that house. I know its dark, and empty… It better be fucking empty but fuck, Ellis, its the only bastard chance we’ve got. And it’s gonna be hard, because you’re fucking heavy. All that muscle. Don’t worry, hah, you barely got a brain. I don’t think that brain’ll be heavy.” He managed a smirk, hoping to fuck Ellis heard him.

They both shifted upwards and side wards, and he scooped him over his shoulder.

Shuffling slowly through the dark street, the rain hit their dirty skin hard.

Hit them both hard.