So you’ve finally bought Left 4 Dead.
The game you’ve been looking forward to for a year or so. In response to your dedication toward one of the greatest multiplayer games ever made, you’re given a small demo in the lead up to the full game. Humbled by this small (but greatly appreciated) gift from Valve, you set about installing it and informing friends and family that didn’t pre-order and don’t have the early demo that you’ll be thinking of them while you’re caving in the brains of every rage-filled infected you can get your gore-spattered hands on (virtual hands of course…).
The download percentage slowly shifts from 90% to 91% to 92%, and you’re growing excitement seems as if it might force the majority of your internal organs burst out of your chest, excitement overflowing into every fiber of your being! The moment you’ve been waiting for is finally here – the game has fully installed!
Shivering with anticipation (and a chilled sensation coming from between your legs accented by the unmistakable (yet not entirely unpleasant) smell of… sorry, got a bit sidetracked) you pull yourself closer to your desk and try to contain yourself as the opening cinematic and menu loads.
When the cinematic finally ends and you look at the menu you immediately become unsure of yourself. “What the hell? Where’s the server browser?” Deciding to attempt to go along with this atrocious mutation of a once great server browser you click on “Play Online” button, looking forward to playing your first game with fellow Left 4 Deadites. You sit there silently bouncing up and down on your chair impatiently waiting for the game to find a server. You wait… and wait….and wait. Until finally the lobby UI shows up just as you got up to hurl the entire computer out the window in frustration.
Forgetting about the long wait almost instantly in the excitement of finally joining a game you hurriedly greet the Left 4 Deadites that will be your teammates that evening, requesting that the lobby leader start the game straight away. After another 5-10 painful minutes of waiting impatiently for the lobby to finally find a game server, the poster for “No Mercy” shows up and a new wave of anticipation drowns the feeling anxiety that had been building up for every second you had to wait for a server.
Faults galore?
By this time you have had to put up with just a few too many game faults with the new server “Matchmaking” system, launching fails and other such errors. But they are to be expected of every new game… Right? Can’t really blame Valve for making a few mistakes… Still, you are becoming increasingly irritated at the amount of problems seeming to pop up everywhere. Hopefully the gameplay and the raw feeling of fear will simply all the doubts and second thoughts you were beginning to have and bring the game back up and over the standard you were expecting, just like in all those reviews and gameplay videos you’ve read and watched for a countless number of hours.
But it was not meant to be…
Following the little opening scene of the rescue helicopter flying past you totally let go of everything on the outside world and become the character you’ve chosen to play as in-game. You take on all their emotions, skills, features and personality, making them your own, ensuring your enjoyment of this epic adventure is taken full advantage of. Picking up a health pack and shotgun (the obvious choice), you take your place near the stairway door, waiting for your teammates to get organized and join you on your struggle against hundreds upon hundreds of mindless killing machines willing to scale 10 story buildings just to scratch you…and that’s when you realize why your teammates were taking so long to get into gear. Slumping back against your chair all you can do is sit there staring with your mouth hanging open slightly as the appalling scene unfolded before your eyes.
They were idiots.
The player that had chosen Louis had decided that the only way to survive a zombie apocalypse was to jump off the side of a 7 story building as soon as you could, leaving yourself dangling and useless.
Zoey had already broken the glass on the roof of the apartments and was already pinned by a hunter on the ground floor of the apartment complex.
Francis had unfortunately not given into the thrill of self-destruction. In stead he had decided it would be much more amusing to attempt to kill you, regardless of the masses upon masses of enemies he would have to face by himself.
Screaming into your mic at him to stop whilst trying to fend him off with your own weapon you hear a fast-paced music playing in the background of all the mayhem that could only bode ill for you and your would-be killer. Try as hard as you might, you could not kill Francis before he inevitably took you down. Just as you thought things could not get any worse, the just-as-inevitable horde smashed down the door to the roof and poured through, bringing an instant halt to what was turning out to be the worst experience of your life…
You’re finger finds it’s way to the power button on your computer, ending your brief (yet painful) experience of what was meant to be an almost orgasmic gaming session, as you cry uncontrollably into your now ruined, homemade “I Love Left 4 Dead” t-shirt.
A lesson hard-learned.
The next day you wake up a changed man. No more will you play with randoms. No more will you ever play with randoms on expert. And you will never Ever EVER again write about it on a site that gets hundreds of hits a day if you wish to keep what little self-respect you still have…
Does this sound anything like your first experience of Left 4 Dead? Ha, not mine!……not mine….
