literature

The Saxxy Games: Chapter 1

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    Cocking his head to the side, the RED Sniper put his eye to the scope of his rifle, staring intently at the incoming BLU Heavy, his support the BLU Medic following eagerly behind. They were moving quickly toward their control point, and it was getting more and more hectic. Earlier, Engineer’s sentries have been sapped by the opponent Spy, who vanished as soon as he appeared, which allowed for the BLU team to advance just a little bit more. Sniper wondered where his team’s Spy was...

    The BLU Heavy roared triumphantly, crackling with the energy of a deployed ÜberCharge, his minigun shooting at rapid speed, and him, completely invincible for several seconds. Grinning fiercely, the BLU Medic rushed behind him, laughing maniacally.

    “AAUUGH!” A scream, followed shortly with a heavy thud, could be heard from down below Sniper’s Nest; the RED Soldier’s left arm was blown off into smithereens by the BLU Heavy’s minigun. His rocket launcher dropped to the soiled ground, useless, Soldier grimacing.

    “YOU MAGGOT! YOU-” His body shook violently, the ÜberCharged Russian roaring and laughing boisterously as he finished Soldier off.

    “You think yer so good...” Sniper aimed his rifle closely between the Russian’s eyes. “Alroight now, stand still-”

    BANG! The room showered splinters over him as he dodged to the right. The BLU Sniper had spotted him from a distant building on the opposite side.

    He shot again. BANG BANG! What was that bloke doing, taking away his opportunity from his kills, he thought bitterly. He lowered his rifle and shook his arms hurriedly; they have been getting so terribly sore. “...aaargh…”

    Another shot overhead and it stopped. Sniper instantly grabbed his rifle and with a CLUNK placed his rifle at the edge of the window and pulled the trigger.

    A frustrated scream answered his shot. He knew he didn’t get a head shot, knowing that BLU Sniper was probably expecting it, but at the least Sniper had shot his arm.

    That’ll buy me more time, he thought as he readjusted his rifle and aimed towards the BLU Heavy again; he was close to the control point and he didn’t see a single one of his teammates around. Where are they?

    This was odd, the other mercenaries usually don’t split up as much, especially if the BLUs are slowly coming in like this. Normally they would be around it. More like surrounding it and hiding, trying to lure the opposing team in and take them out then. Sniper guessed they have been killed and are still respawning, but again, the thought of them not at the control point lingered in his mind. They were acting...strange lately. More different, starting a couple weeks ago. He wondered why, but brushed it aside and reached for his mug, taking a sip of his bitter coffee and resumed peering into his rifle once again.

    “Tsk...” They weren’t getting anywhere with this match. So far the BLUs haven’t gotten too close to the control point. His team was holding up well…so far. RED Demoman had driven the BLUs back with his sticky bombs, blowing up the opposing Engineer and Scout. At least someone was getting something done. It was better than nothing, he supposed. But all the same, now that BLU Heavy was charged and unstoppable, this will give the BLUs a temporary advantage.

    Sniper lowered his rifle to glance at his watch. “Few more seconds, and everything above yer fat neck is going to be a fine red mist," Sniper squinted his eyes. “Guaranteed, mate.”

    His finger twitched at the trigger. Steady...steady…

    Sniper swiftly turned around, hissing and ducking as the BLU Spy slammed down his butterfly knife deadly close to Sniper’s neck. Sniper then rolled to his right hurriedly, grabbing his kukri. He resented the snake of a man. But despite the deep seated hatred flaring up from within him, he cannot deny that he’d been anticipating this confrontation all match.

    Sniper and BLU Spy circled each other slowly, eyeing for sudden movement to initiate again. He cannot determine what it was exactly, but there was something about this man that killing him felt incredibly satisfying. Was it his dapperness, his clever yet insulting remarks, or simply his teeth-grinding personality? Perhaps it was his never ending swagger radiating off of him like an annoying beacon. Yeah. He felt sure that played some role in his resentment for this frenchman.

    But whatever it was, Sniper was itching to drive his kukri home deep in that man’s heart, even though he hadn’t been in the killing mood for over a year. Well, he didn’t mind killing of course. He loved his job, and he loved how professional he was at it. And yet, when his parents, his dear ol’ mum and dad, died almost a year ago, he could not help but continuously contemplate about death, and more death, by his hands- and wondered if that was all he will do for the rest of his damned life. He wished he had spent more time with them...

    BLU Spy had on a smug smile. “Come ‘ere bush man, and fight like a man!” He lunged forward and Sniper promptly brought his kukri up. But the butterfly knife unexpectedly dropped low and swung fast towards his side; a short stab and Sniper clumsily jumped back, slamming into the wooden wall. His back and side roared in pain. Growling, he slashed at Spy’s smug face, unfortunately not landing a cut on him.  

    Chuckling, his foe whispered, “Not smooth as I! Hmm, you are really off your game today... Not to say zhat you have been up to your profession any ozher days.”

    This frenchman... does he take pleasure in taunting him like this? This is all an amusement to him… I’m an amusement to him.

    With a flick of his wrist, the BLU Spy hid his knife inside his clean suit, only to bring out his revolver, clicked and ready to kill. “But do not worry, your death will be quick,” He sauntered over to Sniper slowly. “You’ll learn a zhing or two on how to be smooth with your ugly toy of a weapon!”

    “THE FINAL CONTROL POINT IS BEING CONTESTED!”

    BANG! He rolled to the side and hid behind a wooden crate. Hot sweat trickled down the nape of his neck. He could hear his teammates yelling and screaming, multiple gunshots, and from the control point, a sickening crack of a skull from an aluminum bat. Time was running out quickly for his team. He can’t let them down again. Even though every member of the team plays an important role in these missions, Sniper keeps feeling the pressure of ensuring the team’s victory.

    But it got hard to concentrate ever since his parents’ deaths. Death. It is not something to be toyed with. Yet he and his teammates suffer death’s cold grip like a daily routine in this bloody pointless war. At first it was frightening, and it took a couple weeks to get used to the Respawn. Eventually, everyone dismissed that fear of never returning. They could cheat death, they know they can. Bereavement of his parents wasn’t the only thing that came to cloud Sniper’s mind: anxiety of nearing his end. No one should worry about their last breath every other day. It was not normal. Then again, Sniper’s life isn’t normal in the slightest.

    “Piss off ya mongrel.

    Instead of a smirk, BLU Spy’s face softened a bit. “I zhink not,” he said in a low amused voice. He inched closer. “Waited for me to give you a quick peck on zhe back, hm?”

    What the hell is he playing at?

    Anger suddenly flashed in Sniper’s eyes, and without warning, dived towards him, the force knocking the BLU Spy off his feet. Sniper brought his kukri high and down as soon as it went up, slicing his opponent’s head off clean.

    He was breathing hard through his mouth, no- he was seething. Sniper felt angry, confused, and above all, upset; it was all a jumble of mixed feelings and thoughts. Not now, he thought. What was important was helping out his team. He’s got BLUs to snipe.

    Stumbling up from the dead man, he tossed his kukri down and stared at his face slicked with warm blood. “Bloody hell, ya awful snake.” He spat at the head near his feet as he rushed toward the window the best he could with his injured side, grabbing for his rifle.

    There were two BLUs on the control point: BLU Scout and BLU Heavy. The BLU Medic was nowhere to be seen… yet.

    “Hidin’ like a rabbit,” muttered Sniper. As if hearing the insult, BLU Medic emerged from inside of a building, and according to his ardent expression dancing on his face, Sniper guessed he was ready to ÜberCharge yet another of his comrade. Perhaps to finally end this match.

    A short BANG, the BLU Medic’s gaping mouth in shock, and he was dead.

    “Heh, didn’t expect that did ya?” Sniper aimed at the incoming BLU Pyro and perfectly shot him square in the head.

    He was searching for another BLU to aim at, but suddenly the announcer’s voice boomed all around.

    “BLU TEAM WINS! YOU FAILED!”

    Cursing, he threw his rifle down in frustration and kicked at the wall, only to curse again at the impact. That’s the fifth loss in the row this week! How much longer will this humiliating streak last?

    “Boo!” BLU Spy appeared out of nowhere, his arm around Sniper’s jugular, the edge of the butterfly knife pricking the side of his neck. He can’t be back that quick from Respawn!

    He chuckled that sweet sound. “When you are frustrated, you look so… je ne sais quoi.” Spy smirked.

    Ragged breathing escaped Sniper’s mouth and another soft chuckle from behind. The BLU Spy whispered close into Sniper’s ear, “I like zhis game, don’t you?”

    A sharp, swift stab and twist. He could feel the sharp steel ripping his throat, creating a huge mess inside. Choking on blood, his vision quickly blackened. What’s left of this hell he was forced to live in vanished and flooded with nothing, but infinite darkness.


    Sniper was swimming through some thick fog; so thick, he could almost reach out and feel its texture, like smooth warm milk. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been in this white fog that he was submerged in, or much of anything else. Why was he here in the first place? Perhaps he was dreaming again, but this felt real, or at the very least, semi-real. Maybe he was dead…? He looked slowly to his right. Then to his left. This wasn’t what he expected it to be. It was too quiet, too thick… too eery. If he was dead, he would have expected to be somewhere else in particular, but...

    He continued to waft through this fog for a while. Occasionally, he’d hear voices. Many voices, but none that he recognized… or was it voices that he knew but suddenly could not recall? But for all he knew, they were simply fabrications of his mind, trying desperately to fill the empty fog with something he could hold on to. It was no wonder Sniper was slowly losing his mind; there was just so much emptiness. There was nothing for him to grasp, to remember, to think on, to feel, but the echoes of this unending silence. It was like he had no purpose but to continue floating in this damn fog…


    A rush of cold air filled his lungs as he gasped sharply, abruptly sitting upright. Soft humming from behind the walls could be heard in the Respawn room. And a very loud, very obnoxious Boston accent.

    “GAWD ANOTHER LOSS MAN! CHRIST, I JUST CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!”

    Everyone was in the Respawn room, either sitting or standing, and there was Medic pacing back and forth, thinking.

    “I mean, look at all of ya! Can’t freakin’ help me win!”

    “Oh mein Gott…” Medic placed his finger and thumb at the bridge of his nose, just above his round spectacles, massaging slowly. “Anuhza migraine to deal vith.”

    Scout threw his hands up in exasperation and anger. “Hey fat-ass, HEY! Ya coulda at LEAST just shot those BLUs back at the control point, but nah, ya gotta wait for Medic!”

    Heavy lifted his head from his hands and looked at him, frowning, “What do you know, no ammo and doktor was not with me,” he replied simply.

    “Oh yeah yeah, okay where WAS he then? Huh? HUH?!”

    Groaning, Sniper slowly got up from the floor and sat at the nearest bench, where Engineer and Pyro were sitting. He was already annoyed of today’s loss, why was Scout making it all much more worse than it already is?

    A long sigh. “For your information Herr Scout, I vas busy fending off ze ozher Medic by myself,” replied Medic with a low tone. “But unfortunately, I lost.”

    Now that made sense why the BLU Medic was grinning so excitedly. It was not simply another ÜberCharge underway, but the kill of his RED counterpart. BLU Medic had his Ubersaw, not his Medigun that time, as Sniper recalled.

    Scout snorted and rolled his eyes. “What the hell doc- just- WHAT THE HELL!”

    Medic sighed once more. “Fess…”

    Scout shook his head in frustration and pointed accusingly at Medic. “YOU’RE THE MEDIC FOR A REASON DOC! FOR FUCK’S SAKE, JUST DO YOUR FREAKIN’ JOB RIGHT!”

    Heavy walked up to Medic. “Is okay doktor.” Heavy patted Medic on the back, only to have Medic nod stiffly. Usually Medic wouldn’t mind Heavy’s comfort, but it seemed the match was also getting to him.

    A look around the room, and it was evident that everyone was in a solemn mood. The loss today was breaking everyone’s spirit and vigor. Demoman was drinking a lot more than usual; he was on his seventh bottle of Scrumpy today; he either gets uncontrollable with his attitude, or he just gets too drunk to talk to anyone, let alone himself. Engineer and Pyro had been silent throughout the whole time in the Respawn room. Only time they made a single noise was just a cough or two from the Engineer, or the squeaking of Pyro’s boots as he shuffled his boots. Soldier had left when Scout started yelling and disappeared into the War Room, or to put basically, his room.

    “Ahem.” Sniper nearly jumped at the sound of Spy from across the Respawn room. He had forgot that bloody spook was still here. Always so silent and sly.

    A puff of smoke and the cigarette dropped to the ground, Spy stepping on it, his feet moving side to side shortly to crush the cigarette. “Gentlemen, instead of blaming on each ozher, I propose zhat we find out why we haven’t been winning as of late.” The team exchanged glances at each other, unsure of who to point out first. Even Scout had quieted and stood there, stuffing his hands into his pockets as the room grew more deathly quiet.

    “Well?”

    Lowering his hat below his eyes, Sniper rested against the cold wall and waited for anyone to speak up. He was exhausted and just wanted to leave. But professionals don’t leave, they have standards, and one of them was not leaving until the job was done, or in this case, Spy’s question. Spy was eyeing each member with a look of disdain. If he left, Spy and the team would think something odd was up with him. Not that anything was, or so he believed. He wouldn’t know, he’d been doing his job… hadn’t he?

    “No one? Well, I will make an observation zhen…” Spy folded his arms and cocked his head at Sniper. “Sniper, why didn’t shoot at the BLU Heavy?”

    He sighed through his nose and straightened his back. At first, Sniper didn’t answer. He hated being ordered around, especially from the likes of him. He can’t be trusted. “He was ÜberCharged.”

    The Spy scoffed. “Well what about before he was charged? What about zhat Sniper?”

    This was beginning to become more irritating. Sniper tried to recall where was the BLU Heavy and BLU Medic earlier before they were charged, but to no avail. He had been busy searching for them… right? Or was he distracted? But from what?

    “...I don’t know.” He mumbled.

    “No?” Spy took out his last cigarette reluctantly as this would be his last smoke for the month; HQ had been reducing his monthly rations of cigarettes lately... “Surely you would ‘ave spotted zhe fat man prancing around from zhat filzhy nest of yours.” A slow inhale, a second passed, and then exhale, the smoke appearing and vanishing as soon as it was out of his mouth.

    Spy was taking his time with this...what was that spook doing? What was his motive for asking like this, especially at him first. He wanted something, that for sure. Sniper could only guess it was for Spy’s own benefit...

    “Hold up…” Sniper stared at Spy long and hard. “If you knew about BLU Heavy goin’ in and him about to be all charged up, why didn’t you do something about it?”

    “Must you know everyzhing Sniper?” Spy smirked. “I was sapping zhe BLU Engineer’s sentries, why do you zhink earlier everyone wasn’t on zhe control point?” He waited for Sniper to respond, but he didn’t. “Zhose sentries were in zhe way, you imbecile.”

    Oh...why didn’t he realize? He should have spotted those sentries and got rid of them. Maybe he really was distracted.

    “You are off your, ah, game lately Sniper.” Off your game lately. Now that makes two to point that out.

    “Will ya shut up?” Sniper stood up from the bench and headed towards the door. Spy’s question was answered about him, he didn’t care about what Spy has to say to the other mercenaries. He was done for tonight.

    “Oho, so quick to leave?” Something flicked in Spy’s eyes. He was toying him, stalling him, trying to get Sniper to do something.

    Sniper stopped just at the door, his back against the rest of the team. He balled his hands into tight fists. “Wot do ya want Spy?” he asked through gritted teeth.

    “Nozhing in particular, zhough I wonder why you ‘ave been so out of your league for zhe last five matches. I cannot help but wonder what you are doing. Or what you are waiting for.” A smile tugged at his lips, an eyebrow raised.

    He could end this man’s life right here, right now. He’s just dying to end this torment…

    “Now hold on fellas,” said Engineer. He had stood up from the bench as well and crossed his arms. “Y’all need to stop this childish chit chat. Spy, stop being so hard on Sniper. He’s had a rough day-”

    “Uh yeah, actually, WE ALL HAD A ROUGH DAY HARDHAT.” scoffed Scout.

    Engineer started again, “Look here boy, don’t be disrespecting-”

    “IT’S DA FREAKIN’ TRUTH! AN’ I KNOW FOYEH SURE YA ALL CAN AGREE WITH ME! RIGHT?!”

    “Huhrr…” replied Pyro quietly.

    He elbowed Medic in the arm roughly. “C’mon doc, ya had a rough day too am I right? Ya and that otha Medic today, yeah that was it, you said so. Bad, just bad day, I KNOW ya did- RIGHT?”

    The Medic glowered at him as Scout continued elbowing him, as if that will give Scout a response. “I mean, really, let’s not blame anyone for today’s loss- but for sure, it AIN’T me.”

    Piss off.  “Not blame anyone? Says the bloke who started it.” grumbled Sniper. It keeps getting worse and worse. Though Spy seems to be fairly enjoying it.

    “Hoo boy… aren’t we in some thick gravy…” mumbled Engineer.

    “Da,” agreed Heavy.

    “I have enough ov zhis. Vhat’s done is done.” With a turn of his heel, Medic was out the door, with Sniper still lingering at the doorway. He should just leave too and not dwindle around in this place.

    A moment of silence.

    Engineer rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. “Well... I’m gonna hit the hay. Y’all get some rest now ya hear?” And with that, one by one, everyone left except for Spy, leaving him all alone to smoke his cigarette. Sniper could almost hear Spy’s chuckle echoing around the Respawn Room. Almost.

    Well that was completely pointless and annoying. Gah. His mind was throbbing from a migraine as he continued down the long corridors and out into the open air. Fresh, open air. Sniper inhaled it deeply. He felt a little better already. He continued his trek towards his camper where he could be isolated from the rest of his team to relax and sleep peacefully for one night without having to think too much. After all, thinking is a dangerous pastime- it can lead to many thoughts, ingenious thoughts, and unwanted thoughts…

____________________________________________________________________________


    Medic slid in the Medbay to pick up some paperwork he hadn’t finished the night before and hid them in his coat neatly, and swiftly left. He headed straight for his room, which was down the hall and to the right. Once inside his dark room, he let his exhaustion take over; he collapsed onto his undone bed. Each match is getting vorse, and so much humiliation! He rolled onto his back and stared upwards at the ceiling, the ceiling fan whirring softly. It did nothing to cool the room, so Medic sat up, shrugged his coat off and laid down again. How many hours since the match has ended? How many real hours had he been alive then? It bothered him how he got beaten by his own counterpart. Surely, he shouldn’t feel too bad about it, he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. He didn’t intend to fight the BLU Medic. No, he had been trying to get an ÜberCharge quickly for Heavy, or Soldier, or anyone that needed it.

    Using the Ubersaw was not easy compared to using his Medigun. It required precision, accuracy, stealth. Perfection. A firm stab right in the heart could fill up the ÜberCharge fast... and take out anyone in one blow. But it was all a risk really. One wrong move, and it will leave you vulnerable for a second, just enough for your opponent to take your life.

    Medic stared at the ceiling fan moving clockwise, always moving, always going in circles. This whole war between RED and BLU simply wasn’t going anywhere. It was a complete waste time and was unending. And for what? Some patch of land that was completely useless. Well, Medic couldn’t really complain. They paid him well for what he does and through this, he gets to experiment and test out his ideas in the battlefield. And on the mercenaries. Free subjects to test on, who wouldn’t want that?

    Still, this job that he has comes with a price: endless fighting, endless indignity. Medic was not one to be humiliated easily. But against BLU Medic! How could he stand that? Being the Medic for this team not only meant healing them or keeping them alive throughout the match. No, it also meant murder. Again, he doesn’t mind killing the BLUs. Like he always said, “"Ze healing is not as revarding as ze hurting."

    “Ach, but I couldn’t even hurt ze BLU Medic,” mumbled Medic. The BLU Medic...there’s something about that BLU that sets apart from Medic. Could be the way he goes into battle but…

    Though his body was aching and tired, his mind was alert. And awake. Medic got up from his bed and walked towards his desk, snatching his mug of coffee. He took a sip and coughed in disgust. It was already cold and that lost the usual flavor he liked.

    Lately, everything has been losing its usual “flavor.” He could only assume that it was because of the same routine mostly every day. It still does not explain why he was feeling so bothered by it more than ever. Perhaps a mystery he will solve another day.

    “Coo….” Archimedes swooped down from somewhere above and perched on Medic’s left shoulder, folding his white wings in neatly. “...Coo.”

    A gentle smile appeared on Medic’s face, making him seem kinder, more loving, as he stroked Archimedes softly. “Vhat are you doing up so late, mein Freund?”

    “Coo,” replied the dove faintly.

    He couldn’t help but feel much better at the presence of his loyal friend. Something about having a companion really soothed his frustration today. It could be how innocent he looked, despite the blood on his feathers, or perhaps the way he cocks his head to the side in curiosity. Doves are fascinating birds, the way they take off into the sky, a beacon of hope and peace. Well, he sure made Medic feel at peace currently. “Archimedes, vhere vould I be vithout you?”

    The Medic’s loyal companion watched as Medic read his papers, scribbling notes on the side and crossing out lines and more lines. More minutes passed, more reading. It was only a matter of time before Medic’s eyes started to droop, his head occasionally nodding to sleep. Soon he was fast asleep with his head resting on his table, and his papers still scattered about on it.

    The light of his table lamp was still turned on. A couple minutes later, a soft snore erupted from Medic, sending Archimedes flying away from his shoulder and onto the lamp, clicking it off with a peck of his beak. All was quiet and dark now for the both of them, marking the end of a long day.

____________________________________________________________________________


    “Man, this sucks so hard. I am so freakin’ pissed… everyone betta be giving Spy hell. Yeah, he started it, cuz it ain’t me. Crazy bastard. Oh,” Scout immediately did a three sixty ‘round the hall to see if anyone was around. Luckily, no one was there. “Phew, that was close. Don’t want any of ‘em sneakin’ on me ‘round heyah.”

    Footsteps echoed lightly in the dimly-lit halls. It was barely enough light to see clearly, but Scout had been through these hallways and corridors for a long time. Who needs vision when you got it all memorized through your feet?

    Scout just turned the corner and saw light in Soldier’s room. I thought he went ta sleep? He approached the door and peaked inside; Soldier was sitting at his desk, just...sitting there. Judging from his melancholy expression, Scout assumed he was probably in deep thought of something. No doubt about the loss today.

    Bored with nothing else to do, Scout pushed the door open and walked inside. “Hey wassup Soldier?”

    Soldier straightened up suddenly in surprise. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE WAR ROOM SON?!” He stood up and kicked the chair backwards, slamming his hands on his desk. “NO ENTRY ALLOWED IN HERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!”

    “WOAH woah- calm down pal, what ya tryin’ to do, make my ears bleed?....Crap are they bleedin’? Oh wait, nah they aren’t heh,” Scout let out a sigh of relief and placed his arms akimbo lazily. “Why’d ya left so early?”

    “CLASSIFIED!”

    Scout raised his eyebrow. “Nah really, why?”

    Soldier rubbed the back of his neck roughly. “I needed a break, do you understand?! Can’t even get any one of you boys to capture my point right!” spat Soldier.

    “Your point? YOUR point? Waitasecond man-”

    “DON’T YOU DARE TALK BACK TO ME, CITY BOY! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT SHAME IT BRINGS ME, SHAME!” Soldier roared. “YOU HAVE NO IDEA OF WHAT HONOR AND GLORY IS! DEAR GOD!”

    Scout backed away in shock. He had never seen Soldier this furious before. Wait. Yes he had, but that was only on the battlefield battling out those BLUs to death. And once again, sure it was normal for him to get upset about losing once in awhile, but this was the most upset Scout had ever seen Soldier. And he had a feeling it was also not just because of losing today.

    “Look-” began Scout.

    “AAUGH DAMMIT!” He heatedly pulled out one of the desk’s drawer and snatched his riding crop and slapped it against the wooden table. “YOU SISSIFIED MAGGOT SCUM!” Soldier slapped his weapon again and jumped over the table and moved towards Scout.

    “Yo man WOAH! WATCH IT! Hey don’t point that at me dude- OOOOW!” yelped Scout as Soldier smacked him on the head. “JESUS CHRIST!”

    Hiding his face with his arms up, Scout stumbled clumsily out the door, tripping and finally slamming into the wall outside.

    “DISMISSED!!” And the door slammed shut.

    “What the hell….”

    The wall felt cold and hard against his back. Scout groaned from the pain flaring from behind and head and gradually got up. Well, this was all unexpected. “Freakin’ aching all over now…”

    With one final glance at Soldier’s door, Scout resumed walking down the hall again. Hmm… Honor and Glory huh? Psh, what does that jerk know? Being the youngest of the team, it was pretty hard to get noticed and acknowledged. It was even harder for the rest of the older and experienced mercenaries to respect him too. He was just a “boy” after all. Screw them.

    When Scout was first hired as a mercenary for the team, he was excited and filled with intense pride. For someone that young to be hired by a rich boss and be trusted with the job he got, that was some serious dough right there. So proud as he was, he said his goodbyes to his mother and brothers and left. Here comes his chance to prove he ain’t some weakling.

    A small smirk tugged at his mouth. Honor and glory… yeah he will get it for sure! And he knows it deep down in his heart he will.

____________________________________________________________________________


    Sniper opened the back door to his camper and sluggishly got inside. Ah, his lovely, cramped camper. He took off his hat and flung it towards his bed. “Home sweet home.”

    The kettle rattled against the stove, the tea bubbling from within. Sniper shrugged off his vest and pulled his red collar shirt over his head, revealing a white undershirt. It gets rather warm inside his camper, being it so small and with no air conditioner.

    The kettle was whistled high, catching Sniper’s attention, and he moved to grab the kettle off the stove, pouring himself hot tea into his mug, and placed the kettle back where it belonged with a soft clank. The mug was warm against his hand as he sat down.

    Sipping his tea, and nearly burning his tongue while at it, Sniper looked out the window and into the night sky. The stars were bright tonight. Brighter than most nights. Reminding him of whom had gone to the stars.

    “Mum...dad…” mumbled Sniper. He frowned sadly. Has it been a year already since they passed away? Not yet, but it will be a year by tomorrow, since tomorrow will mark the day they passed from this plain of the world to the next.

    When Sniper first heard of their deaths, he was in complete shock. He shouldn’t be, he seen and experienced death almost every day. It was nothing to really be surprised about. And yet, when his parents slipped away into another world, something changed Sniper. Death is so cruel, to take away someone you love and care about, just like that. Their death made Sniper realize- or rather, reminded him- that life is precious and short. Being in this war between RED and BLU erased that thought. Death was no problem here, the Respawn had that under control. Yet their deaths...oh, they are simply gone. He could not expect to see them ever again.

   Ever since then, he didn’t see death the way he used to when he was sniping BLUs off. Every kill he got brought pain, past memories, regret. He wished he could have spent more time with them, but instead spent them on this stupid war. Who could help it, a job offer like this was too good to ignore, for he was after all, a professional sniper. Still, as much as he took tremendous pride in his work, he could not push away the stinging regret pulsing within his chest. So many conflicted feelings tonight.

    Sniper took another sip of his tea and cringed at the taste; he wished he had his usual coffee but he ran out, and he can’t bother Spy to share some of his personal supply of coffee, imported directly from the capital of France as Spy had bragged to Sniper thousands of times. No matter, tea will help Sniper relax. He needed sleep for tomorrow. Match or no match, he was going to go visit his parents’ home. It somehow felt right. To visit or be in contact of something...real. And not something so terribly fake like Respawn and the matches, the sudden deaths. Preferably, he hoped there wouldn’t be any matches tomorrow, so that he could get to stay at his parents’ lonely house longer. It was not like he could visit any time he wanted anyway.

    Dumping the rest of his tea down the sink, he placed his mug on the counter and climbed into bed, grabbed his hat, putting it over his tired eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a rough day for him, so he better have a good night’s sleep. Letting out a sad sigh, he placed his hands behind his head, closed his eyes, and eventually fell into deep slumber.

____________________________________________________________________________


    “Aye, your bloodeh life is a KA-BLOOIE! Ah wuz gonnae get me a nice wee lil’ bomb to drop on yeh! And I’m gonnae eat yeh toooo….!” crooned Demoman as he poured an abundance of maple syrup onto his plate of pancakes, grinning widely, then paused for a moment to grab his bottle of Scrumpy to pour on the already soggy pancakes. “Almost forgot me bottle o’ Scrumpy ahaha...”

    Everyone was in the dining hall for breakfast, and the mercs were a little better from last night. It was as if nothing happened, noted Sniper. They were simply eating their breakfast, arguing and fighting for more syrup and strawberries, the Medic reading the newspaper, Heavy eating six plates of pancakes, Pyro setting his share on fire followed by muffled laughing, and so on. Heh. Sniper couldn’t help but smile at the sight of this.

    “Yo doc, do ya mind if I haff your plath of pancakes mm?” asked Scout through a full mouth of fluffy goodness.

    Medic stroked his chin in thought as he flipped to the next page, “Ja, ja go ahead…”

   "Awesome,” he leaned over across the table to reach for the plate and accidently knocked over the bottle of syrup, spilling it all over Heavy’s current fourth plate. Heavy’s brows knitted together as he glared at Scout.

    “Eheh…. sorry ‘bout that…”

    “If baby man sorry,” Heavy snatched Medic’s plate from Scout’s hands and raised it high. “Then he would not mind I take this.” And wolfed down the pancakes faster than a, well, wolf.

    “Heeeeey!” whined Scout.

    “Son, just shut up and eat and stop whining like the baby you are!” shouted Soldier. Scout, aware that Soldier was cleaning his usual shovel he’d used to knock out BLUs, quieted and made no point to fight for his breakfast. Crimson colored the young man’s face.

    Sniper sat down at the edge of the table and stared down at his plate. He wasn’t much in an eating mood today, and simply pushed it into Scout’s direction, making Scout perk up at the sudden generosity and taking it hastily before anyone else can snatch it away.

    “Yeh think I’m a monsta? Yoooouur the bloodeh monsta!” muffled Demoman as he stuffed his face with his soaked hotcakes. Scout cringed in disgust and scooted away from him. “CYCLOP’S GONNAE EAT YA!” Not a moment later, Demoman got too drunk and knocked himself out, his face landing into his messy plate. “Bloodeh cyclops….hic…”

    “Hudda! Hudda hurrrh!” Pyro clapped excitedly as the edge of the tablecloth caught on fire, but no one seemed to notice.

    Sniper coughed. “Do any of ya know if we ‘ave a match today?” asked Sniper. He looked around the table. Only Spy seemed to have heard him.

    “No news of one yet Sniper. Disappointed?” smirked Spy. He ate his last piece and neatly set his fork down. Great.

    “Nah.” He kicked his legs up and onto the table, making a thud. “No news is good news, mate.”

    “Hm, I see.”

    Engineer looked up at Spy, who was sitting next to Sniper. “Did I hear that right? No match today?” Spy nodded. “That’s odd, usually the Administrator or Miss Pauling would tell us. Well anyway, somethin’ will turn up sooner or later.”

    “Hopefully not.” mumbled Sniper. He checked his watch. Still got several minutes before breakfast ends.

    “I agree. I want some time for myself, wanted to work on something for my sentries… You got somethin’ planned for today Sniper?”

    “Yeah… gonna head back up east to visit my parents.”

    Engineer nodded solemnly. Not everyone in the team knew about Sniper’s parents, just Engineer and the Medic. There was no need for everyone else to know about his life. They would probably just make fun of him for being too soft.

    “Hm?” The telephone was ringing from behind and Spy got up to answer it. “ ‘Ello? Yes, this is he. What are you saying Miss Pauling? Oui...oui…” Spy’s voice got more lower and quiet. Sniper hoped that call confirmed that there’s no match today.

    After a couple minutes, Spy set the phone down. The frenchman walked over to the table and coughed loudly. “Ahem, gentlemen?”

    Whenever Spy has something to say, the whole team always paid attention. It was like he had bad news to tell all the time. Then again, all he brings were bad news.

    “It seems we do not ‘ave a match today. Dear Miss Pauling informed me zhat we will be moving to a different location for our next match-”

    “Oh? Vhere vould that be?” inquired Medic. “Teufort?”

    “No docteur. I don’t know, she did not say. Zhe only thing she told me is zhat we must pack our things and leave by evening. Zhere will be a train waiting for us.”

    “AW YEAH, new place for me to crack some skulls!” whooped Scout. “This is going to be great!”

    “...Yes. Anyway, I shall take my leave. Until then gentlemen.” And Spy was out before anyone else could ask anymore from him.

    “By evening huh…” That meant Sniper should leave now before he must go to whatever destination awaits him and the RED team. Several hours would do.

    Before Sniper could leave, Engineer placed a hand on Sniper’s shoulder, halting him. “Hold on Sniper, I just wanted to ask, do ya need someone with ya? I could drive if ya like.”

    “Nah, I’ll be fine. No worries.”

    “Well, alright pardner. If ya need me, just let me know, ya hear?”

    Sniper checked his watch again and nodded. “Alroight mate.” With one last wave at the team, Sniper jogged out of the dining hall, out of the building and to his camper. It might take couple hours to get there, but he’ll make it in time, he knows he will. The camper roared to life and made way into the main road.

    “I’m coming.” He couldn’t let his parents down for something like this. He already let himself down with many regrets, and he wasn’t going to let it keep happening. He needed to visit today, more than anything. He was not going to let this slip. And he could not let anyone down, his parents, his team, himself, no one. That just wasn’t part of his standards.
I actually had this written already for months, just haven't uploaded it yet. Well you TF2 fans, here's a fanfiction about it. I'm just saying, it isn't just a fanfiction about TF2, it's got a mix of ideas in here, just look at the title simply, maybe it'll give you guys a clue on what's to come soon :3 I would like to thank the following for beta reading this chapter beforehand and critiquing it, they are the best! Thank you :iconcallingtothenight:, :iconekderon: and :iconrsbcs:! You guys rock! :la: Anyway, hope y'all enjoy :dummy: 
--> Chapter 2

Artwork by :iconcallingtothenight:, here's a link to the artwork done for this chapter:here.
Team Fortress 2 belongs to Valve. 
© 2015 - 2024 Gin-Zura
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MercenaryBlade's avatar
I play TF2 a lot I could easily hear everyones voice, you captured that well I think.

My one gripe is a few spots it seems like you switch between past and present tense.