I tried to be a bandit a while ago. It never worked out. First I ran to the airfield to get a silenced-something or other. It kinda looked like an mp40. Ehhh I don't care, not important. I decided to head along the coast to find some players to kill. Well, I found one at a town but he was a fresh spawn, I think. No weapons on him. I told him to come out with his hands up. Smart guy ignored me. He could hear me, I know he could, but his shouts were muffled. Eventually I decided he was no threat and continued to crawl through town. "Ohhhhh a shed" I thought. "Cold food! Soda! It's all going to..." "Hey, don't shoot, I'm behind you." Jesus, that guy scared the hell out of me. No matter how well an ambush you pull a flashlight wont beat a machine gun. This man has balls of steel! "Oh crap, zombie." Well of course the guy never went prone so he attracted a small horde. It always happens to the good players. Random person agros zombies and runs up to you while you crawl. Anyways, He ran off into the woods shouting something at me but I was more concerned about the zeds munching on my rear. Poor guy, what if he wanted to team up or swap supplies? Then it hit me. What was I doing? I want to be a bandit! "Next person I meet is dead meat!" I chuckle. "Heh. That rhymes, sort of". I guess I'm just not cut out to be a heartless player killer. Fast forward by a few minuets. With my decent weapon I head out to Elektro to get tools, food, a good backpack. "Hmmmm. Getting hungry." I open up my bag and eat my last can of beans. I munch joyfully on my cold beans. When I was finished I switched to third person view to enjoy the scenery, look at the hills, just absorb that wonde- HOLY SHHHIIIIII Of course right behind me was a gillie suit sniper with his barrel pointed straight at my bean filled face. I could just see my run ending there. A million thoughts were running in my head. "Fight or flight! Oh God I'm dead!... any second now." Mr.Sniper Dude, I don't know whether you were out of ammo, or low on blood or something, but why? Why are you not shooting me? "turn around and run" ": D" As hell I wasn't going to argue with that. I never even thought of it as an act of mercy. Only a sick game with that sick smile lingering in the chat. I ran. I ran fast. I looked back and ran faster. It was like a nightmare. "You want to play a game?" The sniper would say to me. I know he will. He will shoot my leg and laugh at my pain and suffering before snuffing out my sad life. Silence. Nothing. I still ran. Looking back on it, I could have gunned him down before he even got one shot at me. I never did. As I was running away he could have took a steady, agro-free, pot shot at my head. He never did. Why? Can anyone answer? Who was that mysterious lone stranger. Was he an angel of mercy? Was he even a bandit? The world may never know. Ah well. Being nice can pay off in a karmic sense, right? As I conclude this, it's easy to just ignore the event. Just call it a freak encounter. He had his reasons. I could care less. It's the knowledge that there is mercy and kindness in this hell of a wasteland that made me so happy. Keep this knowledge. It will find you and present itself. It's the moment when you heed its call, the moment of moral high ground and low ground, that you will find out what kind of person you are in this land of the dead. Mr. Sniper, where ever you are, I thank you for making my first hour on a wonderful play through the best and most emotionally confusing hour ever. Oh yeah. Thanks for not shooting me too. That was nice.
