Left 4 Dead: Blood Harvest Novels & Stories

The growls and snarls blended with cries, shrieks, and gruesome noises of grumbling and choking. I couldn't comprehend what was happening or why I was still alive. I struggled to open my eyes and shifted my exhausted body toward the fading noises. Once my eyes regained focus, the terrifying sight stopped the breath in my throat. Slaughter. The vicious flow of blood turned the ground around me into thick, sticky mud. As the dead lycans gave out their final breaths, they shifted into their human forms, and now there was only one beast standing—the black lycan that killed them all.

I collapse to my knees beside the ruined corpse, blood pouring from a hundred torn seams in my body, the shard clutched tight against my chest. Kael drags himself to my side, breathing hard, blood soaking his fists, his arms, his throat. The prisoner slumps beside us, laughing weakly, cracked, and wild. The Pit trembles. The stones groan. The blood pooled around us shivers— then begins to drain away, pulled into the cracks, vanishing down into the earth like it’s being drunk dry by the bones of the world. We’re not safe yet. But the Heart is dead. The gate ahead— the final gate— cracks open on its own, a yawning maw of frozen wind and black stars beyond.

J lifted the hatchet effortlessly, and in one full swing, the peerless weapon hacked the whole part into two. Zap! The head rolled on the ground in one clean move. Blood gushed out like a water fountain, drizzling its surrounding in the ominous, crimson color. Some stained the tree's bark, and some even stained J's clothes. However, the man ignored it. His gazes were on the gruesome scene in front of his eyes. The thick liquid pooling under the unmoving body created a blood puddle. And the churning smell slowly permeated the air. J knelt with one knee down on the ground beside the corpse. He put away his hatchet and fished out a small pen from his pocket.

It turned out that people like them eventually meet someone worse. I lowered the brim of my cap and turned to leave, not wanting to be recognized. However, fate has a twisted sense of humor. My leather shoe stepped on a dry leaf. Crunch. Brian's head snapped up. Our eyes met. His eyes went wide. Like he had seen a ghost. Or a savior. "Bro?!" That single shout drew everyone's attention. My dad looked up, too, a flicker of light in his eyes. "Chester… Chester!"

During my three-year-old son's preschool physical, his blood type didn't match mine or my wife's. I had just printed the divorce papers when I suddenly heard my son's voice. [This disgusting man is so stupid. He's raised me, his own little brother, as his son for years and still has no idea!] [Lol, hurry up and get divorced. Once they divorce, I can cling openly to my real mom!] [And divorced men are unwanted anyway. From now on, every dollar he earns will be mine!] My wife was still anxiously explaining, "Honey! I really never betrayed you! Do you really want a divorce?" I looked at my son's tightly closed lips and excited eyes, then tore up the divorce papers instead. "No divorce. S

Taken from far away, probably by someone with a telephoto lens who shouldn’t have been there. He’s on a balcony. In a wheelchair. His face is turned away from the camera but I can still see enough. He looks like a ghost. Like someone who’s already dead but doesn’t know it yet. I did this. My brother did this. I close my eyes, and I can see it. The crash. The sirens. Lily’s face on the news. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. My voice breaks. I don’t know if I’m apologizing to him or to Lily or to myself.

And I saw the four billion souls, trapped in the intake, being dragged toward the "Trash." I reached out with my mind—now amplified by the "Hard-Line"—and I grabbed them. "NOT. TODAY." The "Red Blood" erupted from the server room, traveling through the old copper wires, into the city’s fiber-optics, and exploding out of every Wi-Fi router in Seattle. The Harvester let out a metallic shriek as a wave of violet fire slammed into its intake. But as the souls were released, I felt my own "Signal" beginning to fade. My heart was stuttering. The "Developer's Chair" was smoking.

Stupid shoes for a death game, but I didn't dare stop to take them off. "RED LIGHT." The doll's head whipped around so fast it made a cracking sound. I froze mid-step, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. I could see the doll's face now. Empty black holes where her eyes should be. A smile painted in blood red. She was looking at us, scanning back and forth. Don't move. Don't even breathe. "Player 4 eliminated." I heard a sound like a gunshot, then a thump. From the corner of my eye, I saw a young guy fall to the ground. There was a perfect hole in his forehead, smoking slightly.

When the time was right, he would consume his blood until all his life force was drained inside the Hall of the Sacred Bone The Constant had one human left on his left side who was spared to watch everything. When his human companions were all dead, he would be dragged in the middle of the Hall. When it’s done, the Night Children would stop and wait for the Constant to bite and drink the blood of the remaining human. Those Night Children who walked on the pavement and who stood on his right were given one last chance

A creepy anxiety slid into their nerves when they realized their un-shut eyes ogling them from the afterlife. Besides, the mess wasn't just limited to the ground, but even the leaves and burned tree trunk had organs and dried-blood sticking, giving the section the appearance of an aftermath of a barbaric gorefest. "What the hell is this?" Grisha uttered with bewilderment. "I don't... understand!" Alia replied with a mortified face, confusion and concern dripping down, "Have God's Heritage members beat us here?" "Fuck! This is a massacre!" A male assassin from the team asked, "How many hunters did they bring?"