There was a match I played back in Modern Warfare 3 on the Xbox 360. Search and Destroy on Dome. I was in an odd mood that day, so I was using a suppressed MP5, which was notoriously bad at the time, and doing fairly well. I was having some pretty positive exchanges against the enemy team during the rounds, and was thoroughly enjoying myself.
The score was tied up 3-3, and we were on the final round for the match. Typically, in those situations, everyone throws caution to the wind and tries a YOLO strat, which is exactly what my team did. Once all five of my teammates were dead, and the entire enemy team was searching for me, something wonderful happened.
As I was running through the dome, coming from B-Dom, I encountered two players, whom I promptly killed. I took a couple of hits in the exchange, but I survived, bringing us to 4 on 1. I then threw my flashbang through the door opposite where I entered, and got a hit marker. I had to guess, and I chose to strafe out while looking right. Found him, killed him while he was blind. 3 on 1. About that time, I took a stray bullet, and went prone on the ground. Judging from the lines of sight, I guessed; correctly; that the attacker was coming down the dirt ramp from the main building. I fire, and get a few rounds out before my weapon makes a resounding *click*. Crap. I instinctually switched to my USP. 45 with a suppressor, and continued firing. Down he goes. At this point, I realize I need a new weapon, as I'm not going to survive if I don't get one.
Swallowing my pride, and my bile, I begrudgingly picked up the last guy's CM901, which had about 70 rounds left. No sooner do I get the weapon in my hand, I hear a Barrett .50 go off. This is it, I'm dead. Or so I thought. The sniper tried to quickscope me, and failed, giving me time to get a little cover, and return fire. After what seemed like minutes; was really only 6-7 seconds; the sniper is dead, and I've got less than a full magazine left. As I retreated to the fork truck and barricades in the lower end of the map, I hear someone sprinting my way. At this point, it's 1 on 1, so if I keep my head cool, I can do this. My team was on offense for the round, and the timer is winding down to the end, with only about 20 seconds left. The last enemy rounds the corner with his MP7 prefiring, and I know I'm screwed. Except, his aim was terrible.
I managed to get the kill with the final round in the magazine, securing the win, as my friends all erupted in cheers and laughs. I had taken the victory, in a 6 on 1 scenario. I was shaky afterwards, so we had to take a break so I could collect myself. My friends still mention it to this day on occasion, and I grin like an idiot every time.
I'm not the best Call of Duty player out there, not even close, but that day... I felt like it.
Sorry it's a generic FPS story, but it's all I have right now.