Chapter Text
Standing in front of the tiny mirror, which was mounted on the door, you leaned closer, letting your eyes wander down your reflection and settle on your lips, as you swiped chapstick across them. You were prohibited from wearing any make-up in the kitchen, and while you mostly followed the rules, you loathed having dry and chapped lips, so you always carried a spare strawberry chapstick in your pocket. Plus, the vaseline was colourless and barely visible, not glossy, so it's not like anyone would notice it either way unless they would decide to lean in really close to your face, or kiss you.
You could hear your name being shouted and knew you were required to drag your ass into the kitchen to prepare for dinner, and a ton of ravenous soldiers, who will flood into the dining hall in a matter of hours. But as you were about to leave the locker room, your phone vibrated in your pocket, forcing you to a standstill.
Without hesitation, you pulled the phone out and typed in the password. There was one new notification. A message from an unknown number. You opened it and your eyebrows immediately furrowed when you realised that someone had sent you a video.
Your name was being repeated louder and louder, but your perplexity and curiosity mixed and kept your feet firmly planted on the ground as you hit the play.
The sounds of whispers and heavy breathing immediately filled the space. You squinted and raised the phone to your face, your gaze fixed on the screen, trying to figure out what the hell you were looking at. You gnawed on your bottom lip and fast-forwarded the video when you realised it was thirty minutes long.
Your entire body went numb. Your hands started trembling, and you had to tighten your grip on the phone to keep it from falling through your fingers.
This wasn't just a random video or someone pulling a prank on you. And while you had no idea who had sent you the message because the number was unknown to you, you were certain of the sender's intent.
You turned off the sound and kept watching the footage. You and the lieutenant were all over each other, his hands on you, caressing your curves. His body was glued to yours as his lips left a trail of sloppy kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, where he nibbled on your skin, sucking, and biting on it, desperate to paint your flesh and brand you as his.
And despite that Ghost's face wasn't visible, you knew it was him because you recognised the room you two were in; it was one of the military base's unoccupied offices, tucked away in a forgotten wing. That, however, was the least of your concerns. There was something else that made your heart plummet, freezing the air in your lungs and tightening the knot in your throat, which seemed to expand with each passing moment.
Ghost wasn't visible, not a single person - including you, if you didn't know already - would be able to tell that it was him, shoving his dick into you, making you squirm in his arms as you tried to muffle the desperate moans by biting onto his shoulder. In contrast, you were right in front of the camera, your naked body occupying the frame, and despite the low light, every subtle feature of you was evident. And you were easily recognisable to anyone who has seen you or talked with you at least once.
Whoever the pervert was that had this video, and no matter how they even managed to get this or how and why they captured it, they obviously wanted to use it as blackmail against you.
When the locker room door opened and a furious and frustrated Martha stormed inside, demanding you to follow her into the kitchen because the carrots would not peel and chop themselves, you were forced to shove your phone back into your pocket and pretend like the world wasn't shaking and the ground beneath your feet was crumbling.
Throughout the rest of the day, an overwhelming sense of numbness engulfed you. Your heart pounded relentlessly in your chest, causing a deafening cacophony of beats to echo in your ears. The air felt heavy and suffocating as if a thick fog had descended upon your senses. Your mind, detached from reality, floated in a hazy realm, leaving you disoriented and bewildered.
When you were chopping the potatoes, your knife slipped and sliced your finger.
"Fuck." You cursed under your breath as you pressed the bleeding fingertip to your lips, tasting iron on the tip of your tongue.
You stepped over to the sink and put your hand under the running icy water, hoping it would numb the pain and wash the blood away so you could see how deep the cut was.
"Bandage the wound before your blood stains everything and we have to remake the entire dinner from scratch," Martha stated as she looked over your shoulder.
You nodded and switched off the water. The initial pain had subsided, but the bleeding had not. You retrieved the first aid kit and went to a quiet corner to sit and take care of the small cut.
Because you were hidden away from everyone and nobody was looking at you, you took advantage of the free time to whip out your phone and look at the message, and the video, that had been tormenting you all day.
But while you were staring at it, afraid to hit play and rewatch it, you received a message. It came from the same unknown number that had sent you the video earlier.
A pale hue washed over your face, and you felt a rush of dizziness, causing you to seek support by bracing your back against the wall.
