Demons (Rainbow Six x PTSD Male Reader)

New Marks, Old Gun

Y/N POV

You sat high up in a building. In your hands was a weapon you promised never again to pick up. A sleek, jet black sniper rifle. Inside the chamber was the .75 caliber Hell Bell bullet. You only had one shot. One shot to end a war. One shot to save so many lives. One shot to end one life. One shot to kill Demons. You watched as the convoy of armored vehicles drove down the street. You gripped the rifle tightly and watched through your scope as  the vehicles drove down the street. Your finger rested on the trigger. You took a deep breath and held it. The wind blew through your hair and nipped at your skin. Your finger tightened on the trigger. CRACK! The butt of the gun pressed up hard against your shoulder. The bullet streaked downward towards it's target. You closed your eyes as memories flooding your mouth mind. Caveira attacking you with a knife. Staying up late and watching movies. Swimming on the weekends with the girls. Saving Zofia's daughter. Killing Sirius and rescuing your fellow teammates. Stabbing yourself to stop Demons. 

Then some older memories faded in. Your grandfather and his cabin. Your father beating you and joining the army. Your old army buddies. You watched as the bullet streaked forward. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. All you could do was watch as the bullet fly towards its target. Demons looked up just as the bullet struck his head. It shredded into his skull and tore through his flesh. Blood and brains covered the windows. The car hit a fire hydrant and flipped. You watched Demons limp body fly through the windshield. It hit the pavement hard. His limbs were ether bent unnaturally or completely torn off. The top half of his head was completely blown off. You watched through your scope as the nape of his neck started glowing red. A wisp of smoke trailed up. The skin started to blister as the chip over heated. Blood pooled around the mutilated body. Smoke trailed up from the extended barrel of your rifle. A fire started in the engine of the over turned car. The flames licked across the fuel tank. "Burn in Hell, Demons. Burn in Hell" you muttered to yourself before switching on coms.

"We got him. Demons has been eliminated." You informed your team. Loud, excited cheers echoed in your headset. You loaded a magazine full of regular bullets into your gun. "Just gonna finish off the remaining hostiles." You said while taking aim at a confused White Mask. CRACK! Your shot echoed across the street. The man fell with a hole going from one side of his head and out the other. After a few more shots they were all dead. "Mission accomplished." You muttered to yourself as you packed up your rifle. You hated that gun. It gave you an unreal advantage on the battle field. You took out your knife and carved twelve ticks into the side of the gun. The smooth surface was defaced on this side by hundreds of tick marks. Each represented a life taken by this gun. With a shaky breath you closed the case.