This was written by my fellow teammate Chris Reed several years ago. His descriptive genius really puts the reader in his shoes.
“There Is Such a Thing as a Paintball Sniper”
A short memoir by Nashorn
For some reason, Soulspitter’s warnings didn’t register in my head as I was barking out orders atop the fort tower and I took a nice one to the head. There was no mask (or hair for that matter) protecting that part of my nub and it hurt like hell. As I was making my way back to the kill box, I saw my “killer” sitting in the bushes. I felt like giving him a nasty stare or something, but I had been warned at least twice by that “passing bush” of my pending doom. I just told myself mentally Suck it up, Nash. I should’ve listened better and got my head down. Oh well. As I was approaching the opposing player dressed in a dark navy Coast Guard work uniform, I heard the faint but distinct report of an Ion firing-once. The fact that it was only one shot grabbed my attention. As sudden as the sound occured, there was a very perceptable split second of dead silence. Then came a thundering
It was the undeniable sound of a head shot. The paintball on plastic impact was so loud, for a moment, I thought it had cracked the player’s mask. As the enemy player realized he was out, he called out, “good hit.” It was the finest kill I had ever seen. It was so clean, so…absolute. It was then that I recalled the sniper creed: “One Shot. One kill”. Soulspitter then appeared from the bushes to confirm his kill. He had a mask on and a ghillie suit, but one only had to look in those eyes to know there was a $hit-eatin’ grin blazing underneath. I believe there was a certain pep in his step as he trotted by and a slight victory jump followed by a thumbs up as he passed by. To this day I’m not sure why I thanked him for avenging my “death” in my mind rather than words. I took a couple of seconds to make sure the now “dead” guy was removing himself from play. I then looked back in the direction that Soulspitter was headin’ to, but he had already become one with the forest again. I thought to myself, “Poor bastards. Dave’s on a roll.”