The Split Part 1

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GUYYYS

GUYYYYYYSSSS

I GOT FANART AND I LOVE IT

_______

Taking that small amount of time on the safe room couch wasn't one of the most satisfying breaks.

Being covered head to toe in boomer bile had been both disgusting and exhausting, and not being able to see if something was going to attack you- not knowing which silhouettes were friend or foe.

It left you dry of adrenaline, and letting yourself lay lifelessly on the couch like you were now just made you want to sleep even more.

Not to mention the smell.

It wasn't as bad as it was when it first hit, and now that it dissolved it's definitely better then before, but the small leftover scent lingered all over your body, etched into your clothes in a vague residue.

In the time that you sat there you had decided to pull out a small bag of stale swedish fish. Partially out of hunger, partially out of wanting to give your hands something to do.

The crinkling bag made most people in the group look at you- to which you offered some.

They were all happy to have sugar- excluding Bill- and it was nice to be thanked for sharing. As opposed to taking your food like it was mandatory.

Your hunter perked at the bag as well- drawn like a dog to treats. With him literally on your lap- it was hard to say no- so you'd toss a few his way.

When finished, the empty bag was tossed at him as well- bad idea on your part.

Not a moment later he had his head stuck in the plastic, wriggling around and nearly headbutting you when he freed himself.

It was strange to be so passive with him so close. Before this you would use force to keep him a safe distance away from you, but now? Here he was, resting his broad upper chest and neck in you lap. His legs, which you felt frightened to notice, looked even more bowed then before.

You weren't sure why they kept... bending.... like they were, but you hoped they weren't going to incapacitate him- or better yet pain him.

Either way, thoughts aside relaxing with him and weakly putting your trust so willingly out there was nice.

As was this break.

All breaks come to an end though- and with a hefty clunk of boots, Bill shifted from out of the corner to draw attention. His heavy voice was as commanding as it was the time before, "We're moving out everyone- grab your supplies."

Packing up, you took one last moment to look at the killer on your lap. He rumbled when your eyes met his, to which you nervously smiled before gently nudging him off your lap.

He complied- dropping to the floor in a stretch and a shake, patiently waiting for you to get up as well. You got up a bit more clumsily, fiddling with you gun, and fixing your backpack to keep everything in order.

With everyone standing and at the ready, the line was formed-you trotting in front of everyone with your usual anxiousness. Your hunter lumbered after you, tensing when you tensed, and pausing when you paused.

The mimicry felt like a form of comfort- he validated what you were feeling- validated that he would back you up when need be.

Even if you wanted to check up on all the straps on his chest and even wash his face- you didn't want to hold the team up, and unlocked the door.

No infected charged you, surprisingly.

Just a dark and damp alleyway.

Taking it in stride, you kept walking, hearing the team follow after. The soft jingle of the chain echoed through the alley, and quite soon you came upon an open back door to a food joint. Two infected lingered at the door, and it was easy to let your hunter take action.

Two smacks with his claws and they were out, and he took the liberty to crunch into one of their arms as he passed.

Walking through the small restaurant was a breeze as well, not many infected were there, and the group finally picked up on the whole 'being quiet thing.'

Your hunter did the brunt of the work, and if some got too close to the others, they'd give them a few quick shots.

When you got outside the food joint, you were at a bit of an impasse, looking at the unscalable building, and a fence that looked too tiresome to climb with guns.

Glancing back to the group for direction you asked the short question of, "Where we going?"

Bill did a quick look around, before just taking the lead. The fact that he trusted you that much made you feel pretty happy, so you followed.

"A lift huh?" Francis muttered.

"Seems like it." Bill replied.

"I hate lifts."

You couldn't repress your smile even if you wanted too. It was so uncharacteristically pleasant being in the company of these people. So much less tense then it was by yourself. Especially less tense then the first day it all went down.

Bill stepped onto the lift first, making room for others to get on. You waited to get on last, squeezing in on the end and trying your best to make room for your hunter.

It was a difficult task, mind you, but after enough struggling, he managed to get on, one leg almost off the side, and crunched into a ball because he was too stubborn to stand up.

Bill huffed at the lack of space, before smacking the button and starting the lift.

Oh god though.

After he pressed it- a loud beeping noise came from the lift, the whole thing whirring to life as it chugged to lift us all up.

If only you knew the future, as the screaming of all the infected you hadn't seen filled the streets, and you couldn't have wished more to be somewhere else then you were now. Your hunter made a quick flurried look towards you, feeling the unease that settled deep into you and immediately responding to the screaming with a scream of his own.

It was loud, ear piercingly so, and you felt everyone go more on edge then they were before with his unwelcome roar.

However aggressive it was, you knew the difference between his killing crys, and warning crys, wrapping the chain tighter around your wrist out of pure habit and sheer anxiety.

Bill climbed onto the building the minute the roof was remotely within distance, being the soldier he is and quickly grabbing Louis's hand to help him up.

This went the same for everyone, helping you up before the thing was even finished lifting. Your hunter jumped up no problem after you. Bill ran side by side with you, shooting at infected the best he could.

A nasty coughing noise was just barely heard over the sound of the hoard- screeching- and clawing their way up the building. By the time you recognized the tell tale sign of a smoker, it had already shot its deathly tongue.

Right around Bill's neck.

How convenient.

And how utterly terrifying it was to see him start to get tugged off the side.

He stumbled, tumbling backwards, gripping the noose around his throat, and you followed right along.

Rushing forward- stretching out your hand and grasping his own to keep him from falling off. The tug o' war battle that started with the smoker was painful for Bill, if his groaning was anything to say.

Straining everything to keep yourself on the roof, and trying to pull Bill back onto it was exhausting. The screeching only grew louder, sounds closing in faster and faster- the stress tugged at the pieces of your mind, you couldn't help but yell.

"SHOOT THE FUCKING SMOKER!" Your voice cracked.

A ghastly wheeze was heard over the harrowing sound of the hoard, over the sound of gunshots, and you still struggled at the edge of the building, tugging to get Bill back up but failing. The fall itself wouldn't be too deadly- but a sprained ankle would be life threatening, as would being swept away into the horde that just reached the ground below.

With one last huff, and Bill finally reaching a hand out to grasp the ledge, he heavily dragged his body back onto the safety of the roof. Or however safe the roof could be.

You forced him on his feet and hurried him along, barely being able to focus on the infected that were closing in, simply letting your hunter do his best and squirming to get Bill to safety.

When you climbed into the window after Bill, you glanced back, meeting your hunters chest as he pushed you farther into the room.

"Hey- I need to shoot too-" He kept pushing, and pushing, until you reached a shelf, and the strange behavior wasn't at all appreciated, as you immediately shoved back at him after the initial shock wore off.

"I have to help protect the group you idiot!" A few infected climbed through the hole through the floor, and you turned to meet them with your gun.

Your hunter stared intensely as you did this, tensing his claws where he stood and clearly flickering his gaze at every sound he heard.

Did.... did too much sound freak him out?

Abruptly, he ushered himself towards you once more, pushing you into his chest as he defensively puffed himself up. His head kept snapping towards the gun shots. The shelf behind you pressed into your calves, rooting you to your spot against him.

When another infected weaseled through, he turned to them, shoving you behind him a bit too harshly, before screeching his kill or be killed scream and pouncing that poor infected. All the nervous energy he had just built up started to be violently released against that things body.

Ripping, and tearing-

Unnecessary snarling and squelches of blood.

You stood, watching him- a bit disgusted at how prolonged his violent attack against the now dead body was.

The hoards screams began dying out to a few stragglers, and gun shots finally began to cease. Yet another fun fact you learned.

Too many loud sounds put him on edge. Too much overwhelmed him- psyched him out.

Good to know.

Making your way towards him, who mind you, was still tearing at a very dead body, you placed a hand on the middle of his back. He tensed, slowing in his tearing and crunching before letting his hands fall lips next to him.

The low rumbling in his chest shook your hand as he continued to stare into the body he just tore into.

That low rumbling matched with a happy tone, pleased- yet still vaguely uneasy.

You couldn't help but feel like he was taking comfort in your touch.

How he knew it was you, you weren't quite sure.

But you were glad he settled.

A vague cough came from Bill, drawing your attention as you remembered, that yes. You had been supposed to help the group.

Francis let out a long whistle, before speaking, "Damn- he ripped that freak like it was tissue paper." You stood to attention, looking at the group with a sweaty stare.

Louis let out a nervous chuckle, and you followed with a chuckle yourself, before subtly kicking your hunter.

He was jostled with the kick, to which he shuffled about and stood up, getting off the dead body and letting blood drip smoothly off his claws.

The first thing he did once standing was cling onto you, trying to force his face close to your neck in a pleased rumble. Despite his chin being covered in blood, you let him. God if you knew why. The vibrations from his chest felt pleasantly domestic, but that doesn't justify letting him rub human gore on your clothes, much less in your hair.

Brushing past him, you let him rest his left claws loosely around your forearm like a lost child. With a blank look, you glanced down the hole in the bottom of the floor.

Bill strode up on your other side, giving your hunter a skeptical look, before following your eyesight into the hole.

A dry chuckle flourished past his teeth, before he ruffly patted your shoulder.

No words, just a nod of his head before he walked off into the hole.

All three of the others came up to your side next, looking at you with a look similar to the one Bill gave you. Zoey pat your shoulder, "Thanks for putting yourself out there for Bill."

You read her like book. The wistful eyes, the weary smile. The sweetly tinged scent of sadness ruminating about her furrowed eyebrows. She was scared- scared of what could have just been lost.

She looked up to Bill, you concluded.

Father figure, perhaps.

Louis nodded at you, in confirmation of her word, before Francis ambled off the into the hole without much to say.

Louis followed next. Then Zoey herself.

Leaving you with your hunter. Still standing atop the hole.

This moment felt important. Deeply so.

Standing above a choke point, everyone else gone on without you. They're waiting for you. It would be easy to follow. But it would be just as easy to turn your back and leave.

You had the inkling that them, and you, and your hunter, had even bigger threats ahead you then just a smoker.

Bigger decisions, bigger consequences-

That thought was frightening, and you turned ridged.

Eyes still firmly looking down. You could hear the others grabbing supplies, and reloading guns. A faint, "PILLS HERE." was heard, as well as rushed footsteps to grab a container.

Your hunter tensed, chin pushed into your neck, eyes staring intensely at you. You turned to look at him, those dull green irises and dilated pupils as sultry as they ever were. His brows were drawn tightly.

With a shuddering huff of air, you relaxed your body, feeling him mimic you and relax.

Down the hole the two of you NEED to go.

So down the hole the two of you would go.

Walking towards it, you leaped down onto a pile of rubble, turning to face the group. Your hunter leaped after you, landing firstly on his hands, before his feet touched down in his signature crouch.

Bill was finished grabbing ammo, leaning against the door frame and keeping watch. Zoey and Francis were still reloading, and Louis was trying his best to fit a third bottle of pills on his belt.

"How many pills are you gonna use Louis?" was the first thing out of your mouth.

Louis just let out a strangled almost embarrassed noise, not stopping his attempts to put them on his belt.

"He's been like that since we first met up." Was all Zoey said, her pistols ready with full stocks of ammo.

Francis cocked his shot gun, walking over to Bill with a confident, 'This badass is ready.'

Zoey subconsciously followed, giving her pistols a once over.

You decided now would be a time as any to go grab some supplies, pulling your backpack off and dumping a small stack of the ammo in. You were conscious enough to leave a lot of it for other survivors that make it this far.

Your hunter rose, resting his claws and chin on the table. His eyes were turned towards the ammo, giving it a curious looking frown.

Giving his head a quick pat, you pushed him off the table- a sinking suspicion that he would try and eat the ammo forcing your hand.

You followed the other two's lead with a quick reload, stopping as you reached them, before looking back at Louis.

Still struggling to carry more pills.

The whole group was watching him at this point, to which he glanced up, before huffing and throwing the pill bottle to Francis.

"Hah- told you it wouldn't fit." Was what he smugly muttered, clicking it onto his belt and following Bill out the door.

It was strange to see Louis so salty, but you could see the annoyance already starting to fade. Back to his chipper self you supposed.

Chipper indeed, as not a moment after you began walking down a hallway, Louis started humming a small tune. Honestly it was quite catchy, and you resisted the urge to join him in his happy hum.

Down the steps, and towards a storage room the group lumbered, to which all of you walked to the opposing side.

There was a door that lead to the alleyway, and from the alleyway into another warehouse type building. You all trudged into it, following the safe house markers in whichever direction they decided to point.

Down steps, and straight into a dead end of a room. Boilers were uniformly lined row after row. Bill took a moment to glance around, shooting the two infected that darted for him.

He gave a glance downward. At a sewer lid.

You immediately decided you weren't going in there.

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