My FPS Death Counter is Broken

You walk in, you see a kid of around seven, and you wonder how the hell he’s still sane.<br>You see death all around him day in and day out, and yet he still hasn’t cracked, he still hasn’t killed himself. *I mean, I guess it’s not that bad. My FPS *death counter has stopped working.*<br><br>He just sat there as you justified, **No, I don’t always die to headshots.** *I mean, sure, it’s better than the alternative.*<br><br>You could come and go as you pleased, but this kid was trapped. Trapped to a fate of death, death, death, and more death.<br><br>This kid honestly had no reason to live.<br><br>He sat there, watching, as death surrounded him, death attacked him, death crushed him. The kid laughed every time death came to him. *Yeah, he was a bit weird.*<br><br>Now you can call him a monster, you can call him a demon, but worst of all, he was a keyboard warrior, a hero, a soldier, the last line of defense, our only hope.<br><br>His family and friends were all gone, the only ones left were him and his executioner. *Speaking of which, what’s the average death count for an FPS player?*<br><br>He died once, he died twice, he died thrice, he died again. Over 1100 people died that day, and the executioner vowed to kill the kid at all costs. The executioner had been trained in the art of war since the age of 5. He was the best of his kind, and yet he couldn’t kill the little kid.<br><br>In the end, the executioner lost. He lost his everything; his friends, his family, his hope. The kid survived, the kid thrived, the kid continued on his quest.<br><br>He learned when to fight, he learned when to run. He learned when to kill, he learned when to die. *That was the average death count that day.*<br><br>And now he walks.<br><br>The kid with the broken FPS death counter is invincible.