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Immortality is overrated (0)

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Every repost is a repost repost. By Tiny.


I'm not good at titles!

Okay, so my computer's decided that it doesn't want to be an expensive paperweight anymore and I can use it again. This is either a good or bad thing, depending on how much you guys like me. So anyway, I tried to write a seriousfic. I think it sounds all disjointed and mopey, but it's a start. Please be harsh, guys.


We're immortal here. It's all because of that chip they put in our heads. I remember that day clearly. Red, clunky looking thing. Sits right at the base of the brain stem, they said. You won't feel a thing, they said. They must've meant during the procedure, because the damn stitches stung and my head ached for weeks afterward. But everything else they said was true. And the first time I respawned was amazing. There was a brief, intense pain between my eyes, the world fading to red fading to black, and I rose up, watching my body drop down, down, down, into the murky waters below the bridge. I remember wondering if I was really that scrawny. Such a silly thing to think, but I was young and had been taken by surprise. As my body fell I continued to rise, and I saw the face of the Sniper who's bullet had pierced my skull. I saw my teammates, still fighting, screaming their battle cries and pushing the other combatants further back, back towards that soulless blue-gray building. I kept on rising, up and up, until I could see the world below me, spinning gently, enveloped in a shawl of clouds.

And then I was pulled back. Down through the clouds and the sky and into that endless desert and through the roof of the base back into my body, somehow repaired wholly and waiting for me. And I got back up, dusted myself off, picked up my gun, and went to fight again. I did not appreciate the significance of what I had seen at the time. All I wanted to do then was fight. Wow the other guys. Maybe get a scar or two to impress girls with once I got back home. How foolish I was.

I had not been listening as intently as I should have when they told me how respawn worked, nor did I read my contract as carefully as I should have. Those chips, one Medic was so kind as to explain to me, sent data back to the respawn room and told it how to recreate your body. Somehow it picked up the pieces of your corpse and reassembled it. It rebuilt it exactly as it was at a certain point in time set by the chip, when you were fit and had no injuries. This also keeps us from aging, as long as we continue to die and respawn.

I don't know how long I've been here. Longer than any of the others. I tried counting, for a while. I ticked off the weeks on the walls. Then the floor. Then the ceiling. I've covered every surface in my room that I can scratch a mark into, now. All of my original teammates were either transferred to different postings or wandered into the desert and out of respawn range and killed themselves. After a while, they've all started to look the same to me. Medics are all older men with graying hair. Snipers are all loners. Engineers are all short and well built. Soldiers are all muscular men with square jaws and loud voices. Demomen are drunkards, generally missing a finger or an eye. Spies are tall, skinny and cocky as anything. Heavies are overweight bald men. Pyros... Just look the same to everybody, no matter how long they've been here.

Sometimes I wonder what happened to my brothers. I can barely remember what their names are now. Nathan, Jordan, Peter, Jack, Shawn, Andy... Oh God, please don't let me be forgetting. Please.

Bill. Bill. That was his name. Bill. I wonder if he got to be a surgeon like he wanted to. I hope he doesn't decide to be a Medic out here. Or should I say didn't instead. They're all probably dead by now.

I've been here for so long. Most of the others go crazy after the first twenty years or so. I watched a Spy that I'd known since he was recruited crack, a few years ago. He just put his revolver to his head and killed himself, over and over and over again. He kept putting the gun in his mouth and pulling the trigger, day and night for a week, until the Engineer took him past the fences and out of respawn range so he could finally die. I hear he's buried out there somewhere. I haven't been allowed to go check. You have to get permission to leave respawn range. I pleaded with them to let me visit his grave for the longest time, as he was a good friend to me before he snapped, but they were afraid I'd kill myself as soon as I could. And maybe I would have. I could run through this place in my sleep. There's no challenge for me anymore. It's all just watching new kids get broken in and old ones go insane and off themselves, one by one by one.

I'm their longest lived Scout. They won't tell me how long I've been here or if any of my brothers are still alive. I don't even know how old I am anymore.

Maybe I'll ask them to transfer me. I could do with a change of scenery. Maybe one of those new bases up in the mountains. I hear there aren't fences around the borders up there. Nothing but a rock climb and a walk through the woods between me and Spy and my brothers.

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