The BLU demoman quickly glanced across at the enemy fortress. He saw nothing on RED's battlements and assumed that it was safe. Before his feet he laid a single sticky bomb in preparation for his flight.

"Which one o' ya's gunna survive this?"

Without any further hesitation he jumped, detonating the sticky bomb at the ideal moment. He sailed through the air, his aim precise. That is, until an unknown object threw him off. He felt the object enter his body and the next thing he knew he was falling. And then... darkness.

************

The demoman moved slightly as he awoke from his drug-induced sleep. The room was pitch black, but he assumed that was because of what he believed to be a sleep mask strapped to his face. The medic must have outfitted him with it to ensure rest.

Someone must have caught sight of his slight movement for he soon heard footsteps coming toward him. Almost immediately his team's medic was by his side checking his vitals. "Good to see zat you are awake, schweinhund..."

"'Eh, me boyo! Thank ya fer patchen meh up, but I think I'm ready ta git back ou' there," he thanked, as he reached for the sleeping mask.

Before he could remove it from his face the medic slapped his hand away. His voice stern he said, "Zat zniper did quite zee number on you. You are lucky to be alive... zee arrow barely mizzed your brain, dummkopf."

"But it did miss, and I'll be fine once I git mah fix o' wiskey."

"Zat zniper waz dangerous and you barely lived. You vould do well to stay here."

"Ah, I had me good eye on 'im the whole time. No way he'll get meh again."

At that the room went deathly quiet. The demoman wondered what on earth could be wrong. Wanting to see what the medic was up to and what had caused this solemn silence he reached for the mask. This time he wasn't stopped and easily removed it from his face.

He expected to see the all-too-familiar surroundings of his team's main supply room, the one that opened into the wide hallway. Instead he saw nothing. The room was still completely black. It perplexed the demoman but he merely laughed to himself.

"Oh ho ho, very funny lads. Would ya kindly turn on tha light?"

"I am afraid zat zee light eez on, mien friend..."

The demoman was silenced for only a moment or two, panic rising through his body. The silence didn't last long, though, for he soon exploded, "What in tha bloody hell es goin' on here?"

"Zee arrow... eet mizzed your brain, but eet still did some damage... you see, you took quite zee hit to your face. I tried mien hardest, but I vas not able to save your eye... it vas damaged beyond repair..."

"I... but, me eyeball! What am I supposed ta do if I can' see?"

"Do not worry, demoman... I'm sure zere are plenty ov jobs for you out zere... zey just likely von't involve explosive devices..."

::End::

So this is the introduction to my series of mini-stories featuring the Demoman from TF2, because he just doesn't get enough love! I entered this part in a contest and won second place with it, so for that I'm pretty excited, especially since it was really quite difficult to write (on average I write 2000-2500 words in a chapter/short). So I'm pretty proud of that! I won myself a shiny new game on steam, and I can't wait to play it. Anyway, I'm planning this to be nine chapters long to match the classes. What hilarity will the demoman get himself into? You'll have to wait and see!

If you can spot it there's some irony in the Story title and a few of the lines in here. 'Cause irony makes everything better.

And because I can: TF2 (c) Valve