A sniper stands alone, a solitary figure on the horizon. His silhouette contrasted against the light, a spectre of death overseeing the world below, the tiny beings underneath scrabbling and shouting as they engage in the primal dance of death.
He is bitter and jaded, separated not by the distance, the means of fighting or the teams. But by his heart. He knows that no matter what he does, no matter how he does it, his shot will kill someone.
He is cold, tired of killing. Weary of the power he wields, the fear that he inspires. He cannot rely on his team, for he is far too sentimental to not miss them as they throw themselves to their deaths. He pushes the medic's healing beam away.
"Go on doc, save it for a Soldier."
"But you are a soldier, Sniper."
He sighs, lining up the shot again. Boom, headshot.
"I'm not a soldier, Medic. I'm a killing machine."
His eyes mist up, and he ducks as the bullet pings overhead.
Some nights, he quietly sits on the battlements, unarmed. He sits and waits for the end. The end that never comes.
Of course he'd be the first to notice it. He's the one who always watches. The stars have never moved, the weather never changes, the world beyond the fence never... never lives.
He wondered how the rest of them coped. They seemed to be indifferent. Demoman blows himself up to stop that infernal sentry. Scout throws himself into the lead storm in the hallways. Pyro just didn't care.
All of them, suicidal and insane.
But why didn't it stop there?
Why didn't it stop at death?
He blinked, brushing a tear away.
Sniper tilts his head, his troubled eyes no longer framed by the reflective lenses.
He looked down, into the bottomless pit below.
He tosses his rifle in.
Sniper hears the distant crack of impact, minutes later. So much for bottomless.
He wonders... he'd never been hit, in all these days of fighting.
If no one died here... what was dying like?
A shuffling noise draws his attention, the yellow helmet telling all.
"Sniper, arn't cha coming in? I'm makin' bacon."
"Naw... Engie. I'm going fer a little walk. I'll be back later."
"... all righty then Sniper," Engineer breathed, turning back towards the halls inside.
Sniper took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He took one step...
Engineer had seen it happen too many times. No one ever comes back from that place without changing.
He took off his helmet, wiping his forehead.
Rest in peace Sniper, where ever your soul ends up.
He scratched off Sniper's name from the list.
Just him left. He had a minute of silence.
Something, not quite Sniper, appeared in that white room.
Walked out, through the white doors. Sat on the bench, waiting.
It smiled, waiting for the next day.
Beneath those orange sunglasses, were hollow eyes.