How could you forget?

Chelsea Goldsmith

*Warnings- Left 4 Dead and anything associated with it belongs solely to Valve and the only things I claim as my own are the two main characters themselves and the "story" they go through.

The feel of skin against skin. The smell of excitement and sweat. The moans he made every time his lover touched him. The sparks that set off wherever they touch. This was completion. The ultimate sensation. Something that couldn't truly be felt except with that special someone.

He shuddered as the caressing hand made it to his hip, one of his many weak spots. Arching his back, his front pressed into his lover's body, setting off more sparks. He flushed with anticipation and glanced up into the blurry smirking face above him, pleading with his eyes. He needed it. The final act that would help push him over the edge. His lover, however, enjoyed making him hold out until he'd start to beg.

Pushing pride aside, he did so. "Please…!" He groaned out, losing breath quickly as his lover leaned down to nibble at his neck.

"Please what?"-

Cayden jolted back into his body, brows furrowed in confusion. Was that a memory from his "other life?" The one he lead as a normal 18-year-old boy before the sickness took over his body, ravishing it beyond repair. They'd claimed to have a cure and he'd taken them at their word. But when he'd even so much as came within a half a mile of a "survivor" he was shot and swung at. Like some kind of lowly beast. Their faces would show a mixture of fear and disgust. He'd shied away from coming into contact until necessary with them since then. And the only time he deemed necessary was when the painful hunger cramps would start in. Something only living flesh seemed to suppress.

Gagging at the thought he glanced down at his hands-or rather claws. They curled at the thought of food. His body seemed to have a mind of it's own when it came to the act of hunting and feeding. Something he was slightly thankful for since there was no way he'd get the food he needed on his own. His personality just wouldn't allow it.

Scanning the buildings and roads around him from his perch upon a chimney he pondered once again why the infection had chosen to make him a hunter. From what he could remember from overhearing some of the survivors, and seen from others like him, they were suppose to be ferocious beings who feared little and would brave almost anything to get the kill they wanted. Cayden had never been a very strong willed boy his entire life. That is to say, at least what he could remember of it. He actually remembered very little. A small scrap of a memory here, a familiar blurry face there. Nothing that helped him in the long run.

'Except those dreams' His mind spoke, almost tauntingly. In the dreams he'd had, whether they came while he was asleep or while he was daydreaming, they always featured him and someone else. Someone special. His someone special. He just couldn't remember anything about them. Every time they'd start speaking or he'd feel like he was making progress he'd be jolted back into himself. It frustrated him beyond belief.

Shaking his head he sniffed the air and growled deep in his throat. He'd finally found what he was looking for. Since he knew he personally could never take on multiple survivors he'd always watched and waited for one to be by themselves. Eventually one either got cocky and ran off or had lost their teammates to one of his "cousins." Either way this saved him the trouble of having to worry and watch his back. Once his body took over his will was much to weak to control it till it was sated. And it didn't always think very intelligently.

Spotting his prey running down the alley close to his perch he felt his mouth curl up into a grin. The beast inside already taking control quickly, it wouldn't let him lose the opportunity because of his cowardice. Waiting till the young male was within reach he felt his back legs coil and flex as they drove him forward towards his prey, claws extended, ready to rip and tear into young flesh.

They never got the chance to however. Before he could even land on the boy his prey was pulled away at a blinding speed. It probably hadn't been that fast but with Cayden having eyes swollen shut and an almost second heat-like vision gained from his heightened sense of smell, it was fast. It was also confusing and caused the beast inside him to screech in anger as his body slammed into the ground. It should have hurt but it seemed that along with everything else the infection had also dulled his sense of pain which enabled him to jump ridiculous lengths without his muscles failing and made landing on his arms and legs easy, no matter the height. It barely even stung.

Lifting his head to "look" towards the top of the building he was crouched by, he could make out the shape of two things, one "living" and the other "non-living." The smells set off by the human showed up as reds and oranges, though fading out quickly, the color was deepened in and around the core. The other set off colors of blue and green, the blue being closer to the core this time and not fading at all. His own body looking exactly the same color as the latter. He could make out outlines as well, that's how he knew he had claws and also how he knew that the one who had stolen his meal was something called a "smoker". He could also tell the smoker was blatantly male, a sort of dominate and overpowering "aura" coming off his body, was just barely visible.

The body was tall and lanky, the smoker having a few inches of height over the teenage male he had killed. The only oddities from a normal human shape were a few tumors on the arms, the left side of the head and a few extra "tongues", as the survivors had called them, coming out of different places.

Cayden growled up at the smoker. "What the fuck did you do that for?" He screeched up, knowing the smoker had to have seen and heard him leaping. All he got in reply was a chuckle and then both the smoker and the boy disappearing from the edge. Cayden's inner beast demanded he chase down the bastard that had stolen his meal but the coward in him, it seemed, was stronger.

Cayden groaned and nearly screeched from the pain radiating throughout his body. He hadn't eaten in days, the smoker from before consistently showing up near the same prey and taking every opportunity to feed from him. The beast in him was not pleased. He had neither fed it nor satisfied it by exacting revenge on the smoker. It was getting almost impossible to hold down; at the faintest smell of healthy flesh it would go wild.

He knew it was all over the minute the team of 4 turned the corner leading them down the road in front of him. As if in a dream the beast in him coiled his legs and jumped directly on top of one the males. He smelled to be about in his thirties and had taken up the back of the group. From inside the back of his mind he could see the younger man that had been in front of the other turn around, clear blue eyes wide.

"Holy Shit! Hunter's got Nick!" He yelled, probably for the sake of keeping the other teammates from leaving, and jumped at Cayden, swinging the bat he held hard into the back of Caydens head. The world instantly darkened and he could hear the beast in him whimper in pain before everything came to a screeching halt.