Left 4 Dead 4

"It's been ages since I played one of those, sure" James says, glad to get his mind over Roma.

"Count me in" Mathias says as he comes out of the bathroom.

"So where is your uncle?" Gus asked as he grabbed a console.

"Anyone want to play some black ops zombies" James laughs as he picks up a game

"Reminds me too much of what I saw today."

"I'd rather check out the armory." Max says as he walks to where the guns were stored.

"Well I guess he went to one of his other stops but I don't know why he would leave this one"

"We should check the armory out, yeah- but whatever these thing are, they are attracted by noise, if we can find silencers, then that would be great." James points out

"We are outside the city for heavens sake! You guys can RELAX" Gus said with emphasis on relax.

Meanwhile Roma vomited again, this time a clear fluid - except for the bits which were slick with blood. "&^%$." he muttered; everyone else had at least left the room. He vomited again, and then looked in the mirror. It looked like the stuff coming up from his gut was literally eating away at his mouth, and he paled.

He staggered to the door as his vision dimmed slightly, turning red. He felt delirious, and he collapsed on the couch he had been sleeping on.

$#!@. Now he was hungry. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand (never mind the burning sensation on his hand now, he could barely feel that through the fevered haze of his staph infection. Staph, that was an odd name for a disease) and headed for the pantry.

He opened the door and staggered in, leaning his weight against a wall. There looked to be quite a bit of stuff here...including saltine crackers. Saltines were good for an upset stomach. He reached for them, but stopped as his body instead decided to vomit explosively all across the pantry, a bright green opaque fluid with reddish-brown slicks of blood spattered throughout. Oh, and mucus. Snot. Hehe. The others would be disgusted. Ha.

The boxes of food were turning to mush. Weird. Hey, he wanted those crackers. Speaking of which, his shirt was falling apart. How did that happen? There were a bunch of holes in the front. He looked in the mirror again, and saw a face smiling widely back at him. He felt somewhat smiley so he decided that must be normal.

Of course, smiling becomes non-optional once your lips have dissolved off your face, but Roma was too deep in his fever-induced delirium to care much about silly things like lips. Or his tongue, which was currently running down his chin and dripping onto the floor in some sort of dissolved slurry of flesh. Or the hole in the side of his face where normal people had cheeks, leaking acid. Or the holes eaten in the front of his shirt that were beginning to sizzle as they ate craters into his chest and stomach.

All Roma knew was that they'd need some more crackers, so he decided to tell the others. They were all downstairs playing that game, right? He took a step down into the basement and immediately fell down the full flight of stairs, landing in a heap about ten feet behind the couch where the others were playing Halo. He grunted, slightly annoyed.

Fortunately for the retinas of the others he had landed face-down, so the exercise in horror fiction that his mouth had become was not visible.

"Roma, you've finally decided to join us" Gus didn't bother to look in Roma's direction "look at how I am beating your friends up [xbox]."

"Hey you only two kills ahead so don't get to high on your horse"

Roma grunted again, about the only sound he could make given his lack of a tongue or lips, followed by a groan.

"Hey I think he hurt"

"Trying to distract me?" Gus said. Obviously he wasn't paying attention to what was going on around him.

Roma pushed himself up from where he was sitting. Why did nobody have their guns? There was something out there, wasn't there? And them without guns. Silly. The last bits of his tongue dribbled out through his teeth as he started forward. Shouldn't leave their guns like that, what if something got in?

The thing that at one point had been Roma straightened, acid boiling up from its stomach, before with scraping, wet noise it launched a spray of acid at the couch, spattering across the back of Gus, Max and Mathias' heads and burning like liquid fire.

Hearing screams from the game room, James grabs his laser-sighted AR-22 and runs to the game room.

Max walked out of the armory and saw Roma, or what was left of him.

"Hey Roma. Mind helping me in the garage? I can't get inside at all." Max says trying to sound like nothing was wrong. Roma had turned. "Hey Gus grab your shot gun and swap with James!" Max yells over the Xbox.

Infected!Roma turned and glared at Max before lunging forward. With his face now visible it was quite clear that he wasn't a typical zombie (if such a thing existed) - with his mouth a half-dissolved ruin and a constant stream of bright green acid dribbling from his jaws.

"Dangit!" Max yelped before jumping out of Roma's charge. "Roma is gone! He is a zombie now!" Max shouted at the others before drawing a handgun and opens fire.

Max's aim was put off a bit by the fact that he had to keep backpedaling rapidly to keep Roma's swiping claws away from him. The bullets slammed into Roma's shoulder and then stomach, but he didn't seem to notice. Then he stopped coming, a hacking sound building in his chest, before spewing another burst of acid at Max.

James entering the game room aims looks to find the problem and fires the semi-automatic at the now dead Roma. All of the bullets hit around center mass.

A few of the bullets tore holes straight through Roma's chest, causing more acid to leak out. The zombie collapsed - it wasn't dead, nor did it seem to be in much pain, but had simply sustained enough trauma that it could no longer stand upright. A pool of acid was beginning to form as the zombie attempted to thrash its way toward Max.

"Do we need to shoot it's damn head?" James says as he fires a bullet towards the neck if the creature