Chapter Text
“Five”
You turn down a dusty alleyway, breakneck speed, and slam against a wall.
“Four”
Pushing against the wall, you keep your momentum and dash forward.
“Three”
Your foot catches on something, some wooden obstacle lain haphazardly in the sand on the ground.
“Two”
A swift shake of your leg as you continue to run, running.
“One”
Running for your life.
“The enemy has taken control of the point!”
With only a few minutes left in the match, BLU team tends to just throw whatever they have at the wall and hope it sticks. Hence why you, the messenger girl, are currently running around like a fool trying to cause some sort of distraction to the opposing RED team.
It’s happened before where the BLU was losing so badly that they desperately snatch you from your little mail nest and shove you out onto the field, but it’s a feeling you’ll never get used to. Ducking behind a pallet, you see the RED pyro that had been tailing you slowly pass.
The red-hot end of his flamethrower swings dangerously close to where you have your knees tucked to your body. You can feel your skin singe from the close proximity, and force yourself not to scream.
…he walks by.
Pushing further up against the wall and taking short, silent breaths, you find your mind wandering back to the contract you had signed a mere two months ago. At the time being a mail runner for a mercenary group didn’t seem like such a bad gig: you were paid well, never had to see combat, and even better dental was covered. And even if you would never mention it out loud, the job satisfied a… craving for danger in you. It felt so… exhilarating to be so close to a battlefield, and even more so to be around the men that fought on it. Even if you weren’t fully a part of the main team, all of the members still treated you with respect and would check in on you in your office every once in a while.
You just wish they would involve you in their activities a bit more… Anytime you were called into a group meeting, there was this silent awe surrounding them. These men risked their lives daily to protect, well, you're not exactly sure what, but surely it’s important.
BOOM
An eardrum shattering explosion erupts from your left which instantly takes you out of your retrospection. A stickybomb had gone off roughly ten feet away, and had unfortunately blown your pallet off of its resting spot on the wall, leaving you exposed and covered in debris. The RED demoman responsible eyes you with confusion, not recognizing your class, but once he hones in on the color of your outfit he begins to advance.
Ears still painfully ringing, you scramble up and book it to the nearest building, witnessing your team’s level three sentry get blown to pieces on your way. Dashing through the doorway and running up the platform as quickly as your feet allow, you come to a small room with a doorway to a segment of concrete positioned outside; the perfect place for a sentry or sniping if you were a part of a more combat ready class. Peeking out of your temporary safe haven, you are presented with a less than ideal sight. It appears most of BLU team has been taken out, judging by the slumped bodies in bloodstained blue uniforms decorating the perimeters of the arena. A few random stragglers are doing their best to defend until their teammates respawn, but are failing miserably as waves of RED gunfire descend upon them. You witness your team’s scout get his head splattered, following the responsible shot up to the RED sniper, who is holed up in an alcove very similar to your own.
“Mission ends in ten seconds!”
Well shit, looks like you’re fucked . Your breath quickens with panic, once the match is over there’s really no use surrendering, both teams tend to just kill off whoever is left regardless of if their hands are raised. You debate just popping yourself in the head, wondering if it would be better than dying to enemy fire. Respawn is a reliable process, but it’s still extremely unpleasant , so it might be better to just continue your unreliable hiding strategy and hope you don’t get caught until everyone is teleported back to their bases.
There’s a tap on your shoulder. The tip of a bat.
Snapping your head back, you find the RED scout smugly staring down at you with his baseball bat raised up next to his head. “Yo what’s up good lookin’?” He asks, quickly cutting off any sputtering response you could muster with a swift crack to your skull.
“Boom! Lights out!” he exclaims as your head is hit hard with the solid piece of wood. Your body crumples to the floor. With your vision quickly dimming, you watch as he squats down next to you, the cocky expression melting away into one of curiosity as he looks you over.
Everything’s fuzzy, you didn’t even feel your body hit the ground. You can hardly see anything, your vision is fading so fast. But… a voice still comes through.
“Hey doc!”
“Get over here!”
“...I got somethin’ to show ya!”
Lights out.