I was inspired to write this short story when I saw the "Which is Worse: Campers vs Spawn Killers" thread. I think after reading this you'll know why I voted for Spawn Killers.
And now, without further adieu, I give you my story.

























The familiar game begins. 8 men in desert camoflage flood the sandy map from all directions. I make my way down the cliff, and around to the side of the map. It takes me three minutes, but the time spent was worth it. I steady the scope of my M24, and watch my subject crawl between the rocks, oblivious to my presence. It's over in a second.
However, I failed to consider all options, and just as I turn my rifle and see my next subject, I become aware that I am the subject.
I spawn... I hear shooting from all directions, and there's no cover around for 100 yards.
I'm dead.
I spawn again... and, coming as no surprise to me, still no cover, and the shooting still doesn't stop.
I'm dead again.
I spawn a third time... and I calmly collect myself and take aim at where I think my spawn killer is... I see him... I squeeze the trigger as my reticule surrounds his head, his face peaking up from the crest of the cliff...?
A loud crack from my sniper rifle sends a feeling of triumph through me, and I know that I have conquered this "ruiner of fun."
But I am wrong.
A small explosion of pixels cloud the face of my enemy, as if my bullet was shattered by the warm desert air in front of my attacker's eyes. Sensing his mysterious invulnerability, he peers through the scope of his OICW, taking his time, knowing that I am without both the means for a defense, and now, the means for an assault.
A crack is heard through the air, and I know I am hit. I spin around frantically, looking for an escape route, desparation setting in. Another shot, and the crunch of my knee being split into twenty pieces.
I am now hopeless. I stand still, looking at my enemy... pleading with him not to shoot... not to end it all. But he is my enemy. And he does not feel sympathy for me.
The final shot comes.
I spend the next 11 minutes in disgust of him.