Spectre peered through the scope of the golden AWP, following the movements of the enemy team stalking xQuickScopeKingx. Even though this was a randoms match, the squad moved like a practiced clan. One stayed back and moved smoothly down the street holding the rear, while the other two breached shop after shop on either side, methodically checking and looting everything they passed.
Spectre could see xQuickScopeKingx's blue username bobbing around inside a building just two doors down from where they were. "Oooh, a three-star AK!" Spectre could hear him saying to himself, totally oblivious to the encroaching doom. "I'll take that."
Spectre raised the crosshairs to the enemy staying at the back of the pack. He wore a purple skin that shimmered with a nebulous fabric and covered his face with a gas mask. Spectre new this to be an advanced skin available only at level 58. The other two wore generic skins, one another cowboy, the other in a medieval suit of armor.
"Oh shit! On me!" xQuickScopeKingx shouted. "I hear footsteps, where you at?"
Spectre calculated the distance and the trajectory in seconds, and expertly led the shot. He squeezed the trigger and the powerful AWP's explosion bucked into his shoulder. The headshot, executed from such a distance, produced a unique, resounding chime that filled his ears.
Puchaouoooowwww....
That sound was a addicting, a drug, pure dopamine, the pinnacle of accomplishment in Spectre's world.
The purple enemy's head blew clean off, exploding into a mist of red, and leaving his body standing limp and headless in the street for several seconds, before finally dropping his weapon and crumpling to the ground. One of his teammates, the cowboy, rushed to his aid, getting ready to revive, while the other moved towards xQuickScopeKingx's location.
"Contact! Contact!" xQuickScopeKingx shouted, then kicked open the door of the building and rushed into the street, unloading his AK47 in the suit of armor's direction.
Spectre ripped back the bolt handle and reloaded another round in a flash, then swung the crosshairs down, firing as soon as he saw the enemy cross his sights. The AWP kicked and the bullet zipped through the air, hitting the enemy in the chest, unleashing an explosion of blood and an animation showing the amount of damage: 132
The number floated above the enemy and dissolved into the air as he recoiled from the impact, critically wounded. xQuickScopeKingx reloaded his AK and unleashed another burst of gunfire to finish off the weakened foe. After a few hits, the enemy collapsed and erupted in a burst of loot. Guns, heals, and ammo poured out of him, piling up on the street.
"I got one!" xQuickScopeKingx boasted through the headset, his voice triumphant. "Are you going to help or what? I can't do everything myself!" It was evident he was unaware of Spectre's aid from above, but to Spectre, acknowledgment wasn't the objective -- survival was.
Spectre swept the crosshairs back up the street just in time to witness the purple enemy being revived, his head rematerializing on his shoulders. Spectre pulled the bolt handle back again and reloaded another round, but the two enemies split off to opposite ends of the street.
"There's a whole squad over here! Where the hell are you?" xQuickScopeKingx screamed, then unleashed another barrage of bullets in the direction of the remaining two enemies.
Spectre watched as the cowboy ducked for cover behind a nearby dumpster, shielding himself from xQuickScopeKingx's bullets. But unfortunately for him, his cowboy hat was peaking just enough for Spectre to level his sights on it, and pull the trigger.
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Puchaouoooowwww....
That beautiful, musical chime of another headshot rang out in Spectre's ears, letting him know it landed. The cowboy hat disintegrated, and Spectre could only see loot boiling out from behind the dumpster were the enemy had just been. The damage indicator drifted upwards: 214. There weren't enough shields on the map to survive a shot like that.
"I killed another one!" xQuickScopeKingx exclaimed. "I'm gonna have this whole squad wiped before you even get here!"
Spectre knew it wasn't a squad-wipe yet, there was a specific chime that sounded when a squad was finished. The purple enemy was still out there after getting revived, but probably was still badly injured. Spectre swept the scope across the street, checking doors and alleyways for any sign of him, but could only see xQuickScopeKingx gobbling up the loot from the fallen enemies.
Spectre's search was interrupted by a flurry of bullets whizzing by his head, the structure around him rattling with impacts. Instinctually he ducked down, then scrambled to a nearby box of builds. He grabbed a handful of them, metallic cubes about the size of dice that look like they're made of aluminum, then tossed them to the floor in the direction the bullets were coming from.
As soon as they hit the ground they each expanded into self-constructing metallic walls, providing a barrier between himself and the oncoming onslaught. If the AWP had one downside, it was that it was loud. Another team on another part of the map must've heard his gunfire, and now knew were he was.
The bullets stopped with the builds in place, and he laid prone and set up his sniper once more, looking down the scope in the direction of his teammate. He found xQuickScopeKingx's blue username just in time to witness the purple player's aerial descent on top of him, catching him totally off guard from above. Before Spectre could react, the enemy had a shotgun leveled inches from xQuickScopeKingx's head, and let off two quick blasts.
"Teammate, down." A monotone female voice announced in Spectre's head.
"Fuck!" xQuickScopeKingx screamed, his chewed up, bullet riddled body laying motionless in the street as the enemy scooped up all his loot. "Fucking bullshit!"
But Spectre was too busy following the quick purple player's movements with his crosshairs, waiting for the perfect moment to pull the trigger. Before he had the chance, however, the purple player wisely threw up a wall of builds, shielding himself from Spectre's view, and giving himself time to heal up and revive his teammates.
Spectre lowered his scope and contemplated a path to get to his xQuickScopeKingx's body to revive him. "Might as well be playing by myself! Seriously, who plays this game and doesn't talk? Great communication, buddy! Real nice!" xQuickScopeKingx's frustration poured out. "I know you can hear me! You just have your mic muted! It's not like you don't have the ability to talk! You know what, screw this. No use even waiting on you to revive me. That's what I get for playing with randoms. Fuckin' noob. I'm out."
And with that, he was gone. His avatar blinked out of existence, and Spectre tapped the side of his goggles, confirming that he was now a team of one. If his chances of winning the match were bad as a duo, they were zero solo. At this point, he wondered if he should just exit the match an try again with a full team.
But a whisper of metal against concrete jolted him out of his reverie before he could decide. Some was scaling the building to come knock him off his perch. He was being hunted. The audacity made him grimace.
His grip on the AWP tightened, but he was also no novice to to close-quarter combat. He flung the AWP on his back and lunched across the tower to the P90 that was left there, and he reloaded it mid-stride, heading full steam to the edge. Without hesitation he propelled himself off the side of the building and activated his glide back, circling the climber with a hawk.
The P90 roared to life in Spectre's outstretched hand, spewing a beam of bullets into the climber's body into he collapsed and burst into a confetti of raining loot. Spectre swooped around and landed gracefully on a ledge on the side of the building, gathering up as much of the loot as he could. He managed to grab more SMG ammo, assault ammo, builds, and a shield pack, but he didn't linger. He knew the downed player's friends would be hot on his tail.
With that, he leapt off the building and glided further down to the labyrinthian neon city below. A solo player in a team-based match, his only company now was the rhythm of his own heartbeat, and the wind rushing through the city's towering structures.