RockPaperShotgun stole a joke from me that I stole from twitter

7. Counter-Strike: Global Offensive

Beneath the constant soundtrack of distant gunshot and explosion,
there was only a chilling silence. There was no hope here, barely even
life. A scattered few souls gathered around the burned-out husks of what
had once been homes, shattered reminders of a better world before this.

Most barely acknowledged each other – just sat hunched around barrel
fires, devoid of hope, too broken by all they had seen and, in some
cases, done to entertain even the faintest notion that they would ever
again know something better than this.

Some days brought muddled news that another settlement had been wiped
out. Some days brought survivors from far-off places, the same haunted
look in their eyes and pained silence on their lips. Most days, though,
were the same. Just making do. Waiting for death.

Today was different.

Sometime around dawn, a wild-eyed figure sprinted into camp, yelling
at the top of her lungs. The sound of a raised voice was so unfamiliar
as to be shocking: even the deepest sleepers were instantly raised. A
congregation formed. What news did this fearful messenger bring? Final
doom, or salvation?

“It…it’s coming,” she gasped, almost bent double from exertion.

The crowd eyed each other nervously. What fresh hell?

An old man walked forwards, and tenderly placed an arm on the woman’s
trembling shoulder. “What’s coming, dear?”, he asked kindly.

Her head snapped upwards. Her eyes burned into his.

The Vengabus is coming.








ain't it a thing

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