Story Chapter 15: Marks of the Encounter

With the handcuffs finally removed, Red Mirage brought her hands in front of her and slowly rubbed her wrists. Her expression changed as she noticed the reddish marks left by the steel restraints, along with a few faint scratches around her skin. She turned her hands slightly, examining the irritated areas with a displeased frown. “Honestly… they weren't exactly gentle,” she muttered. The security guard, standing nearby, noticed her looking down at her wrists. “Are you all right, ma'am? The cuffs weren't too tight, were they?” he asked. Red Mirage glanced up at him before giving a restrained smile. “I'm fine. They're just a little sore.” But as she looked at the marks again, memories of the encounter began replaying in her mind. She remembered the moment he had first approached her at the rear entrance, ordering her to turn around and place her hands on her head. She recalled trying to explain that she was simply out for a morning jog, only to have him firmly take her wrist and guide both hands behind her back. She remembered the cold metallic click as the handcuffs closed around her wrists, followed by the uncomfortable walk along the facility wall. Then came the search, the awkward wait beside the entrance, and the uncertainty of whether the guard would discover something that could expose her real identity. She flexed her fingers and gently rotated her wrists, remembering how uncomfortable it had been to sit with her hands restrained behind her. What a ridiculous detour. I only wanted to inspect the entrance, and I ended up getting cuffed, searched, and questioned like an actual suspect, she complained internally. She looked toward the guard, who was now putting away his equipment. “I hope you won't make a habit of stopping innocent joggers,” she remarked with a slightly irritated smile. “Only when they wander into restricted areas,” he answered calmly. Red Mirage sighed and shook her head. “Fine. Message received.” She gave her wrists one final rub before lowering her hands. Although the marks were minor, the encounter had been an unwelcome reminder that getting close to the facility carried risks she had underestimated. She needed to be more careful next time. For now, she would leave the perimeter, return to the safehouse, and reconsider her approach before attempting anything further.