![shaftwhores only by [EXE]dann](/files/avatars/2007/51852-shaftwhore.gif "shaftwhores only by [EXE]dann"){kind=small}
‘Fuck! Fuuuuuuck!!!’ went the young man in front of the computer and stood up from it in a volcanic motion. He took off his headphones and smashed them onto the floor. Three metres to the left another youngster sat watching him with a cynical smile on his face.
An official approached Dominik. ‘Please behave or you will be disqualified’.
‘You bastards didn’t let me warm up for fuck’s sake!’ exclaimed the kid.
‘That’s enough, mister.’ Was the ref’s answer.
‘Let the brat whine.’ Interrupted the other player ‘Try your luck in some girl leagues, Kilim!’
That was too much for the eighteen year old. Thi3f was taunting him after a semi-fair match. Dominik had been boiling already and now something snapped. In an outburst of anger, in one rapid motion, he grabbed his monitor, disconnecting all the cables and with the most terrifying expression on his face sent it flying at the impudent red haired caricature of a cyberathlete. The official was lucky to get out of the way as the projectile landed on Thi3f’s feet, turning his smile into a grimace of pain and terror. Before anyone was able to react in one way or another, Kilim finished him off with one of his light cubes and froze, as if overawed by the amount of destruction he had caused.
***
Dominik Kilim was not that vehement in everyday life. He was just like any other high school kid in his country. Well, perhaps one hundred percent along the stereotype, but certainly too intelligent to behave aggressively on most occasions. Dominik’s parents divorced two years ago and from that on he lived with his father. The pops was a policeman and had little time for his son, but Dom did well at school. That is, until he met Sebastian Kuras, a notorious troublemaker, transferred from another class.
‘Kilim, you ever played Doom?’
‘No, why?’ Asked Dominik.
‘Come on, let’s go then. You need to lend me a couple of Euro. And make up an alias for yourself, quick.’
‘What the fuck is an alias?’ asked the future WD40.
***
This is where it began. Kilim and Kuras spent all their free time in the X-Com gaming centre, and most of their school time too, for that matter. Hours and hours of sitting in front of the computers, killing each other in virtual reality. Dominik got addicted quickly, as he was new to gaming. He never thought of computers as of toys before and besides that, his machine was way past its best days. Young Kilim became a restless gamer and his loathe of losing made him practise until he got better than Sebastian.
‘Oh fuck! You’re such a pussy’ gurgled Kuras malevolently every time he beat Dominik.
‘Shut up. Let’s play again’ was the usual reply.
And so it went… match by match, hour by hour, day by day… WD40 gained more and more skill very rapidly. He played more than Sebastian. It was either stop playing at all or start beating him. He watched lots of demos from Rail^Raptor, Bomb3r and weeZel – the world’s best pro gamers, and he picked up all the new stuff fast. Dominik had a gift of observation – he was extremely good at spotting weak points in other people’s game, he could tell a tactical mistake being made before its effects came into life. WD40’s ability soon reached a very high level but he restrained himself from using every one of his skills until he was sure that he would trample Kuras. And one beautiful morning the time came.
‘Sheer luck, lame one!’ the reaction from Sebastian to WD40’s drawing first blood was typical.
‘Shut up and play you fucking serf’ replied Dominik, more confidently than ever. In countless matches before this one he watched Kuras’s game for weaknesses and never told his friend what he needed to improve. With all his malice, Sebastian did not deserve it. Now, Kilim was going to make use of this knowledge to the fullest. After the first kill followed others, which were not products of aim or speed but concentration and tactics. Kuras, as always aliasing as DaBoss, could not get any of the appearing defensive items which his opponent timed perfectly.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ shouted Kuras as he started trailing four points behind. He could not understand. ‘My god what fucking luck!’ he screamed again and smashed his mouse against the surface of the table while Dominik ducked behind his monitor so that the other lad would not notice his smile. DaBoss was still the better aimer, but Kilim knew how to make up for the skill difference. He began to play more defensively when he was a safe margin of frags in front.
‘Run, Forrest, run!’ Sebastian was very much annoyed with the new tactic his best friend adopted. ‘You’re running away all the time, bitch!’ WD40 was not running away at all. He just didn’t attack when he was disadvantaged and fought when he was bound to make the kill.
‘Come back here you little piece of shit!!!’ exclaimed Kuras for the hundredth time and pushed forward turning himself subject to a counter attack yet again. His face was all red and showed lack of understanding, panic and anger at the same time. The final score after fifteen minutes was 9-0 in the underdog’s favour. The sun never shone in the same way for either of them again.
***
Dominik was the one who got to taunt his opponent more often. His expertise with all the weapons rose drastically. Bouncing someone into air with a rocket and finishing him off before he touched the ground was no longer a problem for him. His movement improved a lot and his strategy was brilliant. WD40 didn’t even have to hide DaBoss’s flaws from him any more. He simply became the better player. Both of them skipped school as often as they could. They were not the only high skilled gamers visiting X-Com though.
Actually, the town’s elite hung out in the café. And the elite was not a usual one, it was the elite of elites. Other gaming centers’ top gamers were usually either thin or obese nerdy teenagers, wearing super cool clothes, thick glasses, with shining heads because of tons of styling gel. The kind of geeks that are polite and calm, do very well at school and act macho over the net because they think they play games well.
Nerds X-Com’s boys were not. What differentiated them from the other groups of hardcore players, apart from the fact that each one of them was a very peculiar individual, was that gaming was their lifestyle. Not only had the pack great skills in the field of cyberkilling, but they also possessed an infinite linguistic capacity when it came to smacktalking, making fun of and insulting other people too. They were really something.
Dominik was the youngest of them, only to become eighteen soon, a kid that would not stand out in the crowd. He began gaming very late but he started to catch up with the others quickly and earned his share of respect. There was no other way to do it than by beating most living people in Doom, because trying to outtalk the X-Com elite was out of the question. With the National Championships in mind, he did nothing but practise.
Kuras was a few months older – a impudent-faced individual whose manners were those of a peasant and the looks likewise. Looking at him you couldn’t tell what made him look like a pig farmer but ten out of ten people, asked to tell which one of the X-Com clientele was a pig farmer, would point at Sebastian. The fact that he lived in a really small town did not help him much either.
Ukraine was the oldest of the pack, and the tallest one too. He more or less worked in X-Com. His life was simple – he started gaming ten years ago and never stopped. Without proper education he wouldn’t get a better paid job but he was happy with what he had. He was twenty-six and addicted to gaming. By now he could have been rich and happy, as he was an excellent gamer, but he got a life’s ban from national E-Sportive events. The official version said that it was because he insulted the president of the Gaming Federation which in fact happened, but the real reason was that he got caught in bed with the man’s daughter.
Hirosh was the hardest to categorise using the criteria you usually judge people with. An ex-Satanist he was, with long hair and an evil smile as leftovers of his former hobby. Always dressed in cheap rubber-soled sports canvas shoes, Michael Jackson-short jeans and an old, green shirt which looked like a top of some pyjamas. Theoretically he was a first-year student of economy in Kielce, but it was doubtful whether any of the lecturers would recognise him in the street.
The pack developed a bunch of techniques that made their gaming less costly. X-Com had two owners, Kasza and Muffin. The former they liked, the latter Kuras started to call Scrooge. The café had other employees who always let the guys sit and play as much as they liked, with time Kasza started to forget about charging them either. When Muffin was around they just sat, smoked cigarettes and made fun of other people all day. Given that you were a part of the elite, you could spend four hours in the café and have a great time without even touching the computer.
The nights were always theirs. It is then when the city’s most legendary double impact matches were played. WD40 and DaBoss against Ukraine and Hirosh. People would lose their sanity after hearing the amount of cursing, swearing and insulting X-Com’s walls witnessed. The biggest mouths were always Kuras and Ukraine, and Dominik usually kept silent, as he only had a I-taunt-you-you-taunt-me relationship with DaBoss. Fame spread as tales untold happened in the café.
***
The door slammed. It was Hirosh leaving the building at half past 2 a.m.
‘What happened?’ Asked Dominik.
‘Oh, he lost a ladder match in Starcrap 3 or something’ came the reply from the bored Kuras. Hirosh was well known for being hot-tempered, besides, slamming the door in the middle of the night was nothing extraordinary compared to some of the events that took place in X-Com.
This time it was a match against someone from another local café and the other player won by disobeying house rules. With amok in his eyes, Hirosh went to the other gaming centre to do justice and attempted to drag the poor fellow out for a beating. His lust for revenge was not quenched.
‘Hookers are not wanted here!’ said Ukraine upon the sighting of his friend coming back. ‘Where were you?’
Hirosh’s eyes seemed larger than usual, his eyebrows raised and his half-opened mouth was twitched into a truly wicked smile. His face bore the expression of a madman who had just done something exceptionally cruel.
‘I visited that fucker Rasta in the Arena.’ Now he had their attention. ‘He rushed me even thought we agreed not to rush each other.’
‘We don’t care about that. Did you pound him or not?’ Kuras was only anxious when it came to spilling blood.
‘No, I didn’t. I guess he got too scared when ran at him with a chair. Something stunk there. He must have had his pants full.’ Hirosh’s boasting, the love for himself and the sincere belief in his own greatness was another thing he was well known for.
‘I guess the guys in the Arena were lucky it wasn’t you who got scared’ Ukraine never missed his chance. After all, he was the one who raised insulting people to an art and he had a reputation to keep.
Another ten minutes of Hirosh’s self-promotion as a tough guy, a few jokes, a few smokes and the elite was back sitting in front their screens, the only sources of light in X-Com. The café was never lit well. The days were reigned by twilight and the nights sank in almost complete darkness. This was a boon for the eyes of the people who replaced sleep with the monitor’s radiation – the morning sunshine was a killer for anybody who spent thirty hours playing games. Of course Kilim and the others always put the blame on the sun and never minded their own health - leaving X-Com on a beautiful, bright day usually ended in retreat. That morning Kuras regretted that double.
‘Oh my god! It’s another world out there’ the dazzled pig farmer said when he rushed back inside.
‘It’s called a city, Kuras. Don’t you know that already?’ Ukraine’s reputation was still doing fine.
Every night and every morning was different, boredom was the least expected guest within the café’s walls. That was the whole beauty of ‘living’ in X-Com. Weeks followed and Dominik Kilim made no progress at school but he started to be considered the second Doomer in town, after Ukraine.
***
The door slammed. It was Hirosh leaving the building at 3 a.m. Seconds earlier he had headbutted the monitor, then took his jacket off the hook and shut the door behind him.
‘Hey Kilim, why does Hirosh get pissed when he’s losing 22 to –1?’ came Ukraine’s innocent question. The question where the long-hair spent the rest of the night remained unanswered as it was a commonly known fact that Hirosh’s mother did not let him in after 10 p.m. It was not this one defeat that became legendary that night.
‘Ukraine, you in such a good shape? Let’s go one on one.’ Kilim was feeling lucky.
‘What for? I’ll own you as usual.’
‘Oh come on, Ukraine, don’t be a puss’ pushed Kuras. In secret, he was Kilim’s biggest fan. Now that Sebastian was getting beaten most of the time he consoled himself that Dominik was his apprentice.
‘Alright, set up a server, kid.’ Ukraine was as confident as usual. He hadn’t been beaten on that map for a few months, not even by the Polish pro-gamers.
The server was ready and WD40 waited. He was a lot more anxious than before any other match. Ukraine was pure excellence, with enough talent to be the continent’s top player. All wasted because he had no respect for other people and did what he wanted to do. The ban had been well deserved.
***
Unstoppable entered the game.
The map was a perfect one. It looked like a part of a steel fortress built into a great rock. It made an enormously grim impression. Rust was ubiquitous - it covered every wall, every ceiling, every crate. It showed the age of the place, as if abandoned a long time ago - empty, but looking solid, with no trace of debris. The map’s central point was a round Yard with a serpentine of stairs winding along the walls, leading to different areas of the arena. The burnt umber of the decaying structure was delightfully counterweighted by the sky-blue water of a beautiful little Pond under the rock’s cliff and some green of the grass around it.
The arena was sweetly imbalanced. Dominik knew that if he was spawned in the Room above the Yard and the Pond, he would collect most of the important defensive items and one powerful weapon which lay there. A respawn in any other part of the map forced at least a few minutes of defensive play upon the unlucky player. He got lucky. He was spawned in the Room. Unstoppable, that is Ukraine, was lucky too, spawning almost right in front of WD40’s nose. This kind of a situation happened very rarely. Either of them had two choices – to go for the Chaingun resting below the staircase in one corner of the room, or to get the Mega-Health situated on top of a large crate in another corner.
Both players decided to grab the weapon. Dominik knew that having taken the Mega Health he would prevail but Ukraine’s Chaingun would force him to retreat and leave the Armour for the rival’s taking. The opponent rushed to the staircase too and for him too was obvious that the if he beat WD40 to it he would be one point ahead and in control of both the MH and the Armour. Indeed, he was the first player to reach the goal. He tried to switch his weapon but WD40 was upon him and before the fountain of shells sprung out of the chaingun’s barrel, his Pummel ripped through the opponent’s flesh until the dead body dropped the precious item.
WD40 did not even take his time to look at what was left of Ukraine. He was more consumed by ordering his thoughts and making a battle plan in his head rather than picking up the Chaingun and the ammo, which he normally did blind-folded. Every little kid knew that the next steps for him were taking the remaining powerups and so he did. He now had to complete his arsenal and locate the newly born enemy.
Dueling on this map was a game of mistakes. For the first eight minutes of the game WD40 did not make any. The fact that it was one of the best, If not the best, Polish gamers facing him did not paralyse him at all. He made sure that the Room’s rusty walls were his domain only and kept Unstoppable at a distance. Unstoppable did not attempt to take back the Room. Instead, he picked up all the supplies resting outside it and attempted to lure Kilim into an attack.
WD40 was too patient for that. One error from Unstoppable and after a short, bloody fire fight his gibs were all over the place and the score was two-nil. Dominik’s Armour was almost destroyed by the opponent’s Shot Gun. Instead of running up the stairs to the Room he made a quick rocket jump to save himself time and then he heard a splash. This could only mean one thing. Unstoppable made the most desperate of moves possible. Below the rock near the Pond, was an underwater cave, where the Railgun lay. A diver was heard in almost every part of the map and the swim took a few seconds one way – it was almost equal to suicide.
WD40 decided to leave the MH and Armor and finish off his rival. He switched his weapon from the Rocket Launcher to the Chaingun and made his way to the pond. A splash was followed by the characteristic sound of the Railgun shooting. The blue beam pierced through Kilim’s Armour and blood started to mix with water. Unstoppable had anticipated the move and was ready.
WD40 was weakened after the fire fight and it only took two shots to kill him. One hit was already inflicted, and now the rival was waiting for his weapon to reload and finish off WD40, who did not condone such a course of action. In one instant he was surrounded by thousands of little bubbles as he pulled the Chaingun’s trigger, sending a cloud of bullets in Unstoppable’s direction. He knew it was not enough. Ukraine had to miss his second shot. The Pond’s surface was now covered with pink foam. He did not miss.
The roles turned around. It was Ukraine who controlled the Room now. He was in full Armour and with the Railgun in his hands. Having such a strong long-distance weapon on an arena like the one they were playing on was a great advantage.
WD40 was in trouble, but he was still leading with seven minutes to go. He picked up two weak Yellow Armours and decided to play passively and try to find the right moment for the attack. Unstoppable knew that well enough. He was also aware of the fact that WD40’s defensive game was his strongest side and his plan was to wait and make the impatient youngster attack him, so they both kept their parts of the map for themselves and spent the next four minutes in anticipation, afraid to make the first move. Time ran and Unstoppable got nowhere with this tactic. With three minutes to go the older player decided to take the next opportunity to kill WD40, who, on the other hand, kept his focus and planned his trick.
***
‘Good game man’ said Kilim wiping the sweat off his forehead. The plan three minutes earlier worked. Unstoppable rushed at the kid at the first sighting. After a one sided fire fight, which was in fact one big getaway for the young man, the heavily wounded WD40 vanished into a shaft, taken away by an elevator. Unstoppable was left on the Yard with no chance to beat the kid to the Room, where he took the Armour and the Mega Health he had timed. It was all over and both of them knew it.
The tension in X-Com was great as everyone stood up from their computers and watched the game to witness Ukraine’s first defeat in seven months. Dominik kept his control and did not try to get cocky as the rival still wielded the Railgun. He only allowed short distance contact, where Unstoppable’s weapon was useless and where the Armour advantage favoured him. The match ended with a 2-1 score. Shivers went down the youngster’s spine as he heard applause in the café. Now he knew he was able to take on the very best.
An official approached Dominik. ‘Please behave or you will be disqualified’.
‘You bastards didn’t let me warm up for fuck’s sake!’ exclaimed the kid.
‘That’s enough, mister.’ Was the ref’s answer.
‘Let the brat whine.’ Interrupted the other player ‘Try your luck in some girl leagues, Kilim!’
That was too much for the eighteen year old. Thi3f was taunting him after a semi-fair match. Dominik had been boiling already and now something snapped. In an outburst of anger, in one rapid motion, he grabbed his monitor, disconnecting all the cables and with the most terrifying expression on his face sent it flying at the impudent red haired caricature of a cyberathlete. The official was lucky to get out of the way as the projectile landed on Thi3f’s feet, turning his smile into a grimace of pain and terror. Before anyone was able to react in one way or another, Kilim finished him off with one of his light cubes and froze, as if overawed by the amount of destruction he had caused.
***
Dominik Kilim was not that vehement in everyday life. He was just like any other high school kid in his country. Well, perhaps one hundred percent along the stereotype, but certainly too intelligent to behave aggressively on most occasions. Dominik’s parents divorced two years ago and from that on he lived with his father. The pops was a policeman and had little time for his son, but Dom did well at school. That is, until he met Sebastian Kuras, a notorious troublemaker, transferred from another class.
‘Kilim, you ever played Doom?’
‘No, why?’ Asked Dominik.
‘Come on, let’s go then. You need to lend me a couple of Euro. And make up an alias for yourself, quick.’
‘What the fuck is an alias?’ asked the future WD40.
***
This is where it began. Kilim and Kuras spent all their free time in the X-Com gaming centre, and most of their school time too, for that matter. Hours and hours of sitting in front of the computers, killing each other in virtual reality. Dominik got addicted quickly, as he was new to gaming. He never thought of computers as of toys before and besides that, his machine was way past its best days. Young Kilim became a restless gamer and his loathe of losing made him practise until he got better than Sebastian.
‘Oh fuck! You’re such a pussy’ gurgled Kuras malevolently every time he beat Dominik.
‘Shut up. Let’s play again’ was the usual reply.
And so it went… match by match, hour by hour, day by day… WD40 gained more and more skill very rapidly. He played more than Sebastian. It was either stop playing at all or start beating him. He watched lots of demos from Rail^Raptor, Bomb3r and weeZel – the world’s best pro gamers, and he picked up all the new stuff fast. Dominik had a gift of observation – he was extremely good at spotting weak points in other people’s game, he could tell a tactical mistake being made before its effects came into life. WD40’s ability soon reached a very high level but he restrained himself from using every one of his skills until he was sure that he would trample Kuras. And one beautiful morning the time came.
‘Sheer luck, lame one!’ the reaction from Sebastian to WD40’s drawing first blood was typical.
‘Shut up and play you fucking serf’ replied Dominik, more confidently than ever. In countless matches before this one he watched Kuras’s game for weaknesses and never told his friend what he needed to improve. With all his malice, Sebastian did not deserve it. Now, Kilim was going to make use of this knowledge to the fullest. After the first kill followed others, which were not products of aim or speed but concentration and tactics. Kuras, as always aliasing as DaBoss, could not get any of the appearing defensive items which his opponent timed perfectly.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ shouted Kuras as he started trailing four points behind. He could not understand. ‘My god what fucking luck!’ he screamed again and smashed his mouse against the surface of the table while Dominik ducked behind his monitor so that the other lad would not notice his smile. DaBoss was still the better aimer, but Kilim knew how to make up for the skill difference. He began to play more defensively when he was a safe margin of frags in front.
‘Run, Forrest, run!’ Sebastian was very much annoyed with the new tactic his best friend adopted. ‘You’re running away all the time, bitch!’ WD40 was not running away at all. He just didn’t attack when he was disadvantaged and fought when he was bound to make the kill.
‘Come back here you little piece of shit!!!’ exclaimed Kuras for the hundredth time and pushed forward turning himself subject to a counter attack yet again. His face was all red and showed lack of understanding, panic and anger at the same time. The final score after fifteen minutes was 9-0 in the underdog’s favour. The sun never shone in the same way for either of them again.
***
Dominik was the one who got to taunt his opponent more often. His expertise with all the weapons rose drastically. Bouncing someone into air with a rocket and finishing him off before he touched the ground was no longer a problem for him. His movement improved a lot and his strategy was brilliant. WD40 didn’t even have to hide DaBoss’s flaws from him any more. He simply became the better player. Both of them skipped school as often as they could. They were not the only high skilled gamers visiting X-Com though.
Actually, the town’s elite hung out in the café. And the elite was not a usual one, it was the elite of elites. Other gaming centers’ top gamers were usually either thin or obese nerdy teenagers, wearing super cool clothes, thick glasses, with shining heads because of tons of styling gel. The kind of geeks that are polite and calm, do very well at school and act macho over the net because they think they play games well.
Nerds X-Com’s boys were not. What differentiated them from the other groups of hardcore players, apart from the fact that each one of them was a very peculiar individual, was that gaming was their lifestyle. Not only had the pack great skills in the field of cyberkilling, but they also possessed an infinite linguistic capacity when it came to smacktalking, making fun of and insulting other people too. They were really something.
Dominik was the youngest of them, only to become eighteen soon, a kid that would not stand out in the crowd. He began gaming very late but he started to catch up with the others quickly and earned his share of respect. There was no other way to do it than by beating most living people in Doom, because trying to outtalk the X-Com elite was out of the question. With the National Championships in mind, he did nothing but practise.
Kuras was a few months older – a impudent-faced individual whose manners were those of a peasant and the looks likewise. Looking at him you couldn’t tell what made him look like a pig farmer but ten out of ten people, asked to tell which one of the X-Com clientele was a pig farmer, would point at Sebastian. The fact that he lived in a really small town did not help him much either.
Ukraine was the oldest of the pack, and the tallest one too. He more or less worked in X-Com. His life was simple – he started gaming ten years ago and never stopped. Without proper education he wouldn’t get a better paid job but he was happy with what he had. He was twenty-six and addicted to gaming. By now he could have been rich and happy, as he was an excellent gamer, but he got a life’s ban from national E-Sportive events. The official version said that it was because he insulted the president of the Gaming Federation which in fact happened, but the real reason was that he got caught in bed with the man’s daughter.
Hirosh was the hardest to categorise using the criteria you usually judge people with. An ex-Satanist he was, with long hair and an evil smile as leftovers of his former hobby. Always dressed in cheap rubber-soled sports canvas shoes, Michael Jackson-short jeans and an old, green shirt which looked like a top of some pyjamas. Theoretically he was a first-year student of economy in Kielce, but it was doubtful whether any of the lecturers would recognise him in the street.
The pack developed a bunch of techniques that made their gaming less costly. X-Com had two owners, Kasza and Muffin. The former they liked, the latter Kuras started to call Scrooge. The café had other employees who always let the guys sit and play as much as they liked, with time Kasza started to forget about charging them either. When Muffin was around they just sat, smoked cigarettes and made fun of other people all day. Given that you were a part of the elite, you could spend four hours in the café and have a great time without even touching the computer.
The nights were always theirs. It is then when the city’s most legendary double impact matches were played. WD40 and DaBoss against Ukraine and Hirosh. People would lose their sanity after hearing the amount of cursing, swearing and insulting X-Com’s walls witnessed. The biggest mouths were always Kuras and Ukraine, and Dominik usually kept silent, as he only had a I-taunt-you-you-taunt-me relationship with DaBoss. Fame spread as tales untold happened in the café.
***
The door slammed. It was Hirosh leaving the building at half past 2 a.m.
‘What happened?’ Asked Dominik.
‘Oh, he lost a ladder match in Starcrap 3 or something’ came the reply from the bored Kuras. Hirosh was well known for being hot-tempered, besides, slamming the door in the middle of the night was nothing extraordinary compared to some of the events that took place in X-Com.
This time it was a match against someone from another local café and the other player won by disobeying house rules. With amok in his eyes, Hirosh went to the other gaming centre to do justice and attempted to drag the poor fellow out for a beating. His lust for revenge was not quenched.
‘Hookers are not wanted here!’ said Ukraine upon the sighting of his friend coming back. ‘Where were you?’
Hirosh’s eyes seemed larger than usual, his eyebrows raised and his half-opened mouth was twitched into a truly wicked smile. His face bore the expression of a madman who had just done something exceptionally cruel.
‘I visited that fucker Rasta in the Arena.’ Now he had their attention. ‘He rushed me even thought we agreed not to rush each other.’
‘We don’t care about that. Did you pound him or not?’ Kuras was only anxious when it came to spilling blood.
‘No, I didn’t. I guess he got too scared when ran at him with a chair. Something stunk there. He must have had his pants full.’ Hirosh’s boasting, the love for himself and the sincere belief in his own greatness was another thing he was well known for.
‘I guess the guys in the Arena were lucky it wasn’t you who got scared’ Ukraine never missed his chance. After all, he was the one who raised insulting people to an art and he had a reputation to keep.
Another ten minutes of Hirosh’s self-promotion as a tough guy, a few jokes, a few smokes and the elite was back sitting in front their screens, the only sources of light in X-Com. The café was never lit well. The days were reigned by twilight and the nights sank in almost complete darkness. This was a boon for the eyes of the people who replaced sleep with the monitor’s radiation – the morning sunshine was a killer for anybody who spent thirty hours playing games. Of course Kilim and the others always put the blame on the sun and never minded their own health - leaving X-Com on a beautiful, bright day usually ended in retreat. That morning Kuras regretted that double.
‘Oh my god! It’s another world out there’ the dazzled pig farmer said when he rushed back inside.
‘It’s called a city, Kuras. Don’t you know that already?’ Ukraine’s reputation was still doing fine.
Every night and every morning was different, boredom was the least expected guest within the café’s walls. That was the whole beauty of ‘living’ in X-Com. Weeks followed and Dominik Kilim made no progress at school but he started to be considered the second Doomer in town, after Ukraine.
***
The door slammed. It was Hirosh leaving the building at 3 a.m. Seconds earlier he had headbutted the monitor, then took his jacket off the hook and shut the door behind him.
‘Hey Kilim, why does Hirosh get pissed when he’s losing 22 to –1?’ came Ukraine’s innocent question. The question where the long-hair spent the rest of the night remained unanswered as it was a commonly known fact that Hirosh’s mother did not let him in after 10 p.m. It was not this one defeat that became legendary that night.
‘Ukraine, you in such a good shape? Let’s go one on one.’ Kilim was feeling lucky.
‘What for? I’ll own you as usual.’
‘Oh come on, Ukraine, don’t be a puss’ pushed Kuras. In secret, he was Kilim’s biggest fan. Now that Sebastian was getting beaten most of the time he consoled himself that Dominik was his apprentice.
‘Alright, set up a server, kid.’ Ukraine was as confident as usual. He hadn’t been beaten on that map for a few months, not even by the Polish pro-gamers.
The server was ready and WD40 waited. He was a lot more anxious than before any other match. Ukraine was pure excellence, with enough talent to be the continent’s top player. All wasted because he had no respect for other people and did what he wanted to do. The ban had been well deserved.
***
Unstoppable entered the game.
The map was a perfect one. It looked like a part of a steel fortress built into a great rock. It made an enormously grim impression. Rust was ubiquitous - it covered every wall, every ceiling, every crate. It showed the age of the place, as if abandoned a long time ago - empty, but looking solid, with no trace of debris. The map’s central point was a round Yard with a serpentine of stairs winding along the walls, leading to different areas of the arena. The burnt umber of the decaying structure was delightfully counterweighted by the sky-blue water of a beautiful little Pond under the rock’s cliff and some green of the grass around it.
The arena was sweetly imbalanced. Dominik knew that if he was spawned in the Room above the Yard and the Pond, he would collect most of the important defensive items and one powerful weapon which lay there. A respawn in any other part of the map forced at least a few minutes of defensive play upon the unlucky player. He got lucky. He was spawned in the Room. Unstoppable, that is Ukraine, was lucky too, spawning almost right in front of WD40’s nose. This kind of a situation happened very rarely. Either of them had two choices – to go for the Chaingun resting below the staircase in one corner of the room, or to get the Mega-Health situated on top of a large crate in another corner.
Both players decided to grab the weapon. Dominik knew that having taken the Mega Health he would prevail but Ukraine’s Chaingun would force him to retreat and leave the Armour for the rival’s taking. The opponent rushed to the staircase too and for him too was obvious that the if he beat WD40 to it he would be one point ahead and in control of both the MH and the Armour. Indeed, he was the first player to reach the goal. He tried to switch his weapon but WD40 was upon him and before the fountain of shells sprung out of the chaingun’s barrel, his Pummel ripped through the opponent’s flesh until the dead body dropped the precious item.
WD40 did not even take his time to look at what was left of Ukraine. He was more consumed by ordering his thoughts and making a battle plan in his head rather than picking up the Chaingun and the ammo, which he normally did blind-folded. Every little kid knew that the next steps for him were taking the remaining powerups and so he did. He now had to complete his arsenal and locate the newly born enemy.
Dueling on this map was a game of mistakes. For the first eight minutes of the game WD40 did not make any. The fact that it was one of the best, If not the best, Polish gamers facing him did not paralyse him at all. He made sure that the Room’s rusty walls were his domain only and kept Unstoppable at a distance. Unstoppable did not attempt to take back the Room. Instead, he picked up all the supplies resting outside it and attempted to lure Kilim into an attack.
WD40 was too patient for that. One error from Unstoppable and after a short, bloody fire fight his gibs were all over the place and the score was two-nil. Dominik’s Armour was almost destroyed by the opponent’s Shot Gun. Instead of running up the stairs to the Room he made a quick rocket jump to save himself time and then he heard a splash. This could only mean one thing. Unstoppable made the most desperate of moves possible. Below the rock near the Pond, was an underwater cave, where the Railgun lay. A diver was heard in almost every part of the map and the swim took a few seconds one way – it was almost equal to suicide.
WD40 decided to leave the MH and Armor and finish off his rival. He switched his weapon from the Rocket Launcher to the Chaingun and made his way to the pond. A splash was followed by the characteristic sound of the Railgun shooting. The blue beam pierced through Kilim’s Armour and blood started to mix with water. Unstoppable had anticipated the move and was ready.
WD40 was weakened after the fire fight and it only took two shots to kill him. One hit was already inflicted, and now the rival was waiting for his weapon to reload and finish off WD40, who did not condone such a course of action. In one instant he was surrounded by thousands of little bubbles as he pulled the Chaingun’s trigger, sending a cloud of bullets in Unstoppable’s direction. He knew it was not enough. Ukraine had to miss his second shot. The Pond’s surface was now covered with pink foam. He did not miss.
The roles turned around. It was Ukraine who controlled the Room now. He was in full Armour and with the Railgun in his hands. Having such a strong long-distance weapon on an arena like the one they were playing on was a great advantage.
WD40 was in trouble, but he was still leading with seven minutes to go. He picked up two weak Yellow Armours and decided to play passively and try to find the right moment for the attack. Unstoppable knew that well enough. He was also aware of the fact that WD40’s defensive game was his strongest side and his plan was to wait and make the impatient youngster attack him, so they both kept their parts of the map for themselves and spent the next four minutes in anticipation, afraid to make the first move. Time ran and Unstoppable got nowhere with this tactic. With three minutes to go the older player decided to take the next opportunity to kill WD40, who, on the other hand, kept his focus and planned his trick.
***
‘Good game man’ said Kilim wiping the sweat off his forehead. The plan three minutes earlier worked. Unstoppable rushed at the kid at the first sighting. After a one sided fire fight, which was in fact one big getaway for the young man, the heavily wounded WD40 vanished into a shaft, taken away by an elevator. Unstoppable was left on the Yard with no chance to beat the kid to the Room, where he took the Armour and the Mega Health he had timed. It was all over and both of them knew it.
The tension in X-Com was great as everyone stood up from their computers and watched the game to witness Ukraine’s first defeat in seven months. Dominik kept his control and did not try to get cocky as the rival still wielded the Railgun. He only allowed short distance contact, where Unstoppable’s weapon was useless and where the Armour advantage favoured him. The match ended with a 2-1 score. Shivers went down the youngster’s spine as he heard applause in the café. Now he knew he was able to take on the very best.