1 . Name: Zahmen @ 2008-07-18 16:32

The fight was exhilarating, but when all was said and done we on team BLU had lost four men, and more importantly, the handle to my trencher snapped.
I don't mind the casualties; we get new men almost every day here in Hydro, but we rarely get new weapons, and I really loved that trencher. Engineer told me he could fix me up with a new one if I gave him the parts, but that fucking maget who broke my handle with his jaw ran off with the head.
The men here (or possibly women, I don't know about that Pyro, I caught him putting lipstick on his front filter) don't understand the deep connection a Soldier has with his trencher; so it was with that in mind that I left the BLU base late last night, my goal: that fucking RED Demoman.

Hydro is enormous, and it took me the better part of that night to just find where the fuckers were stationed. I wanted to travel silent, so I left my weapons back at the base (Demo keeps trying to fiddle with my Rocket Launcher, he says he can "Give it a little extra kick", if I come back and he's done something with it I'm gonna wail on him), the last thing I need is to bump my shotgun against the wall by mistake and suddenly have every sentry in the complex filling my ass with holes.

I got lost about twelve times, but I'm not known for my intelligence. Anyways, it was early this morning that I found exactly where they were; my gut instinct was to rush in there and pulverize that fucking cyclops, but the steady beeping of about fifteen sentry guns stilled my rage. If these magets were anything like our magets, they had to power down their sentries at night to conserve energy. Tonight then, tonight I will reclaim what is mine.

I was about to leave and sneak back when I glimpsed the glare of a sniper scope, thankfully it wasn't pointed at me, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to sneak past it.
It looked like I was going to have to spend all day behind that damn rock.

I drew in the red dirt, mapped out my battle plans and amped myself up, but that became boring far too fast and soon I was just sitting, unable to sleep from paranoia. I ate a small snack I had swiped from the base before I had left, reciting book quotes in my head, I even thought of all the interesting things I was going to do to that damn one eyed Scotsman when I caught up with him. Yes, the thought of how ridiculous this endeavor was crossed my mind, but I was stuck there.

Around noon I snuck off to go take a leak, and as luck would have it, found a hidden entrance to their base. I briefly checked it out and realized that this took me through their air vent system and dropped me directly on their Point. I stashed this knowledge away and snuck back out, coming back to my spot to realize that in my absence, a cat had pissed there.
Who the fuck keeps cats in the desert?

It was about two in the afternoon when the wind began to pick up, the sandstorm that ensued forced the Sniper to go inside, and for a brief second I thought of running back to my base and forgetting about this whole thing; I don't think I'll ever forgive myself about that one second, I am NO COWARD. Still, the wind made it hard to breathe properly, and I got some cat piss sand in my mouth, which was extremely unpleasant.

Four in the afternoon rolled around and I had to find another rock to hide behind, as the sun was casting my shadow in plain visibility. The boredom was excruciating, and I began to daydream about what was under that damn Pyro gasmask. My thoughts ranged from ugly woman to space alien with mouth tentacles. Both of which seemed kind of fitting for Pyro's personality. I started going over old battles in my head, my triumphs and narrow victories. I thought about that time I caught Scout doing coke in the bathroom, and how I beat the living tar out of him for it. I thought about my mother's accident. I thought about how my best friend JJ used to ride his motorcycle down the road while smoking a cigarette until one day the ash flicked off the end and hit him in the eye, causing him to crash and break both his legs. My mind traveled down old and forgotten paths, things that I didn't even know I knew began to surface; my father taught me how to throw a punch that could kill a man, my mother taught me how to scrapbook, my fourth grade science teacher taught me how to make mustard gas. Strange and random memories flooded my mind until slowly, one by one, they all filed away.

It was like I had touched the face of God, and gained a wealth of information locked inside of me.

When darkness finally came at eight, I was mentally ready to fight an elephant. I lingered however, and decided to wait another six hours just to be safe.
The desert gets cold at night, but thankfully the rocks had spent all day absorbing heat, and I was cozily basking in their warmth. I slept for five hours, no longer afraid of anything the mortal world could throw at me. The torrent of anger that usually flowed through my brain was gone, only a calm and serene stream was present now.

I woke up and found a spot to go and answer the call of nature, and spent the rest of the time exercising, getting my muscles ready just in case something bad went down. I took off my helmet and brushed the sand out of my buzzed hair, I left the helmet by the rock, with my grenades (I don't even know why I have them, I never use 'em) in it and my boots and socks next to it.

I went in through the air vent, and when I dropped down I immediately began searching for the barracks. Their complex was huge, and eventually I got it mapped out in my head. I had devised a plan earlier, but that was before my enlightenment, when rage and hate fueled me; I could no more turn back to that plan than cut off my own ear.

The bathroom was large, and had a multitude of showers, complete with shower curtains. I found the barracks, and to my dismay it was full of sleeping people. I couldn't deal with the cyclops here, but I did notice that he kept his trunk at the end of his cot.

I hatched a plan.

When I came back to the barracks I made sure not to spill any of the warm water, I wanted it all to stay in the bowl or else this wouldn't be effective. I set up and quickly left for the bathroom, hiding behind a shower curtain.
A minute later I heard the mumbled cursing of my target.
I waited until he close and then I struck hard.
He had been facing away from me, standing at the sink washing his hands. I rushed him and smashed his face into the mirror, dazing him (thankfully the bathroom was far enough away from the barracks that this wasn't heard). I spun him around and quickly brought my elbow into his throat as hard as I could while controlling it.

The man never had a chance.
He dropped like a rock, outcold before he hit the floor.
Cyclops wouldn't survive, I'd crushed his windpipe, he was dead, his brain just didn't know it yet. I took his eyepatch as a souvenir.

I found the head to my trencher in his trunk, and with that I left the RED complex the same way I came in. The trek home was long, but I had many things on my mind to keep me occupied.
I decided that night to become a holy man when I left the conflict, and true to that I did.

Engineer fixed me up with a new trencher, Demoman did indeed try to fiddle with my Rocket Launcher, but his modifications actually ended up helping me. The entire team was confused as to why I had changed so much over that day I was gone. When I made my prayer beads out of an old pearl necklace Pyro (what the hell) gave me, they began to suspect that maybe I had gone soft. I became a killing machine however, and in the heat of battle I never again felt the rage that clouded my mind.
I eventually lost my trencher again, but I never felt the urge to get it back.