Sniper gasped. After eating pancakes, finding Scout, brushing his teeth, and smoothing his hair, he had retired to the loft to spy on the BLU base again.
Through the scope on his rifle he spotted Scout rubbing his hands together and trotting forwards towards the BLU base.
"Bloody gremlin," he spat through his teeth. He threw down the rifle carelessly and bolted out of the loft, down the stairway and out the sewer of the base before anyone could find him.
Footsteps approached the infirmary where Medic and his infected Scout lay. The door swung open to reveal the opposite team's Scout. The runner clad in red jogged lightly around the room, clearly in search of something. Medic nudged Archimedes out from under his hand and the bird hopped to the edge of the table. Apparently the BLU doctor's condition wasn't as bad as his Scout's. So far, Medic hadn't felt the urge to bite anyone, but he had felt sick to his stomach and incredibly weak. The RED Scout grew closer to Medic's side of the room.
"Vhy are you here?" Medic whispered. The Scout jumped and spun around, drawing his scattergun and pointing it at the doctor. When he realized the Medic was cuffed, he put the gun down again and smiled slyly. The Bostonian leaned up against the table and stared directly down at the doctor.
"So, doc," he said, looking the man over, "What'd ya do?"
"Vhat do you mean?"
"I mean, what'd ya do t'yer Scout over there? And why'd they lock you all up like 'im too?" Scout scanned Medic one more time and smiled even wider. What a perfect time to get revenge on this bastard for all the shit he'd done during battles. Medic saw the smile and his brow furrowed.
"Zhe Scout bit me. I don't know vhat's wrong vith him. Or myself, for zhat matter."
"Oh. Is that right?" Scout seemed to be taunting him.
"Yes, zhat is correct, Herr Scout. Now who sent you?"
"The RED Medic. 'E wants what yah used to experiment on Chuckles over there." Scout pointed with his thumb over to the other runner.
"I advise you not take zhat," Medic warned. The RED mercenary strutted to stand behind Medic's head. He then pulled up a stool and sat.
"Yeah?" Scout grabbed a scalpel off the counter behind him and held it over Medic's face. "Why not?" The German's eyes widened and he attempted to move his head from beneath the knife, but was unsuccessful in his escape. Whichever way Medic moved, Scout's blade followed.
"Get zhat away from me! I am not stopping you! Just tell your Medic zhat he should not use it!"
"Yeah. I'll tell 'im. But we ain't through yet." Scout rolled on the wheeled chair and over to Medic's left side. Archimedes sat peacefully on the doctor's leg and watched Scout with beady eyes.
"Vhat does zhat mean? Vhat are you doing?" Medic's voice was still weak and quiet.
"Not much, doc." Scout said, turning the knife over in his hands.
Next thing Medic knew, the scalpel was plunged into his arm. All Medic felt was pain like that of a syringe. Just a small stinging. Thick blood seeped through his shirt at a rapid pace. He moved his opposite hand to a spot on the inside of the cuff where it could be unlatched. His index finger clicked a button and the restraint popped open.
As fast as he could, he grabbed the Scout and yanked the blade from the taped-up hand. The sudden movements caused Medic to grow dizzy and groggy. He stabbed the scalpel towards Scout's shoulder blade, only causing a light scratch in the skin. The man let out a cry and then yanked free of the doctor's grip, stumbling backwards.
"Zhe experiment is over zhere," Medic growled in defeat and pointed to the far counter at a few test tubes filled with a light-colored liquid. "Now your best option is to leave before anyzhing vorse happens to you. Und schnell."
Sniper was drenched in wretched, stinking liquid. He grumpily stepped up the underground stairs of the BLU base, cursing and spitting while trying to breathe through his mouth without tasting the stench.
His shoes squished grossly as he stepped up the stairs, and upon reaching the top, he found himself in the BLU basement; the BLU Pyro had gigantic headphones on and was sitting across the wide space, banging his head to what faintly sounded like vulgar heavy metal music.
Between the dripping RED and the head-banging BLU, masses of boxes and crates and strange whatever-those-are were scattered about the room. Storage.
Terrified, Sniper began to step quietly towards the next staircase, which he knew would lead to the bedroom level; upon his very first step, he squeaked loudly as sewage squished and leaked out of his shoe. He paused nervously, hands close to his chest and his teeth clenched tightly, while he watched the Pyro warily. No response yet.
Sniper sighed and stepped forward again. More filth dribbled from his soles and onto the floor. Pyro only rolled a shoulder.
Sniper was nearing the staircase leading upwards when a loud moan emanated from Pyro's direction. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and saw the maniac rising from his seated position on the floor, taking a stretch before probably departing.
Sniper turned and dove for cover behind a large stack of wooden gunpowder crates. He crashed into a large ceramic lollipop and it fell to the floor and shattered.
"Oh, bloody shit," he hissed under his breath.
A loud stomping came closer to Sniper, and he scrambled to get into an empty crate nearby. He was almost in when a dreadful shadow appeared, looming over his burrow.
"Oh, Christ- I wasn't tryin' ta hurt you or steal nothing. Our team's bloody
Scout came over here and-"
He was interrupted by his own gasp of surprise when the Pyro reached down and grabbed him by the collar. The being lifted him up with a frightening ease, bringing the Aussie closer to the source of the Darth-Vader-breath.
"I- I'm sorry, mate, I just-"
Pyro released the tight grip and dropped Sniper onto the floor. Sniper grunted in pain and rubbed his elbows. The Pyro still stood menacingly above him.
"Mate, honestly. I don't see-"
He choked on his words as a fireproof boot went flying into his stomach. He began gagging and dropped a hand to the ground, where ceramic splinters pricked his palm.
A gloved fist went soaring to the side of his head, and his vision blurred as he went tumbling across the concrete floor.
"Please, don't- I'm just here t'get the moron-"
He gagged again as the lunatic tore him from the floor by the back of his shirt.
Greenish water dripped from his wounded body as the Pyro stomped up the stairs, holding the Sniper like he was fresh prey.
They knew the perfect punishment for his destroying of their lollipop.