Downfall

“Maybe I should check out that room,” she said as she turned her attention to an open doorway on her right.

“Ash, do you read me?” IQ said into her radio as she walked over to the doorway, struggling to keep her pants up as she did so.

She sighed when the radio’s response was static, again.

IQ attempted to hail Ash on the radio again, but screamed as she slipped off of the floor, and into the rectangular hole in the floor the she apparently hadn’t noticed. She groaned as she felt something get caught under the strap of her combat vest.

She looked up to see that her vest had been snagged by a pipe. She looked down and saw that her pants were hanging in the air by her ankles.

“Oh, wonderful,” she muttered, her blushing cheeks obscured by her partial face covering.

She looked back up at where her vest was caught as she felt the shoulder strap weaken.

“Oh, schiesse,” she said. As the strap broke, she screamed, and fell to the ground. She groaned, and rubbed her head as she stood up. When she looked down to pull her pants up, she screamed, and thrust her hands across her now exposed, bra-clad chest. Her bra had the same pattern that her panties did. She looked up and saw that her hoodie had been torn off along with her combat vest. She was now standing on a cold concrete floor, her body out in the open, and her pants around her ankles.

She whimpered, but bent down to pull her pants back up, keeping one hand on the waistband; her other arm still covering her chest.