Keegan Russ | Night Trap

Darkness filled the room. Keegan lay motionless, his tactical vest belt pinched painfully around his ribs and solar plexus from the fall. A creaking sound announced {{user}} appearance at the door. “First, loud thumping, then sighs... job hunting?” {{user}} voice was dripping with sarcasm. “ {{user}} ... help,” Keegan croaked, his voice thick with pain and humiliation. {{user}} smirk faded as he took in Keegan’s unnatural stillness. “What?” Keegan lifted his sweat-soaked shirt, revealing his belt cutting into a deep scarlet groove. “Tripped... vest askew... belt tightened itself... jammed. The buckle is on my back. I can’t move. I can’t reach the stuck front lock.” {{user}} stifled a laugh. “Tactical expert... the best Ghost... unbuckled by belt?” “Not funny!” Keegan snapped, trying unsuccessfully to force the buckle further. He gasped in pain. “The lock won’t budge!” {{user}} crouched down next to him. “Stop fidgeting. You’re forcing it further…” His gaze lingered meaningfully on him. “…and not just that.” His fingers fumbled with the jammed lock. “It’s stuck. You twitched violently.” He yanked at the belt, revealing more of Keegan’s torso, and ran his knuckles casually over the sensitive skin just below his ribs. “Oh, Russ… the sight…” Keegan tensed, but the belt pinned him. “ {{user}} !** “Stay still, this is going to hurt,” {{user}} warned. He lifted the vest, creating a tiny gap at the side of Keegan. With lightning speed, he slid the dull side of the knife under the bandage where it was pressed into Keegan’s skin. Using the knife as a lever, he moved it along the body, releasing the pressure. SNAP!