Elevator dilemma
Lieutenant Keiko and Extermination Officer Misty moved through the dimly lit corridors of a rundown apartment building, coming to confront a slippery suspect named Rick Hunt. He was a notorious arms dealer, responsible for smuggling weapons that had fueled countless crimes across the city. Tonight, Keiko and Misty were tasked with extracting the information needed to dismantle his network.

As they approached his run-down apartment building under the cover of night, Misty adjusted the slung cylinder over her shoulder, her "special tool" for handling uncooperative types. It was a nondescript metal canister, cool to the touch, with a valve that promised a swift end to any resistance. Keiko glanced at it briefly, her expression neutral, as if it were just another piece of equipment, but she knew Misty was all too eager to use it.

Keiko knocked once on the door. When no answer came, Misty kicked it in, the door splintering open to reveal Rick scrambling from his couch, eyes wide with panic. He was a thin man in his late 30s, disheveled and reeking of cheap booze, but he had nowhere to run. The apartment was a small, cluttered space with barred windows and no escape routes.

"Evening, Rick," Keiko said softly, her voice steady and almost maternal as she stepped inside. "We've been looking for you. You're quite the elusive one, aren't you? But we know all about your little side business: smuggling weapons that have ended lives. It's time we had a chat."

Rick backed against the wall, his hands up in a futile gesture of surrender. "Who the hell are you? You can't just barge in here! I have rights!"

Misty chuckled, "Rights? Oh, you're way past that. We're BCPU, and we're here to clean up the mess you've made." She was trying to suppress a smirk, already imagining the fun to come.

Keiko gestured for Rick to comply, her tone remaining gentle but firm. "Don't make this harder than it has to be, Rick. We're taking you somewhere more... private."
With efficient movements, Keiko and Misty grabbed him by the arms, their gloved hands unyielding. Rick struggled, but it was pointless; the women were stronger and more prepared. They dragged him out of the apartment and toward the elevator at the end of the hall.

The elevator doors creaked open, and they shoved Rick inside, the confined space amplifying the tension. Keiko pressed the button for the floor above, then immediately hit the emergency stop, locking the elevator between levels. The doors sealed shut with a metallic clang, creating an airtight chamber. Perfect for what they had in mind.

As the elevator halted with a jolt, Keiko and Misty donned their gas masks in unison. Keiko's movements were deliberate and smooth, securing her mask with practiced ease, the familiar breathing sounds of filtered air filling her ears. Misty, ever the enthusiast, adjusted hers with a wicked smile, her eyes glancing at the cylinder on her sling.

Once protected, Keiko reached into her bag and pulled out a spare gas mask, one that she dangled teasingly in front of Rick's face. "Look at this, Rick," Keiko said, her voice soft but firm, waving the mask slowly. "It's a simple choice. You start confessing right now, tell us about your suppliers, your contacts, every dirty little detail, and I'll give you this. It'll keep you safe from what's coming. We need useful information, and you have it. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Rick's face twisted in confusion and discomfort, "You... you're insane! I don't know anything!"
Misty chuckled, her tone sharp as her fingers were tracing the valve on her cylinder. "Come on, Rick, don't be stupid. You don't want to breathe in something nasty, do you? I mean, look at us, we're all cozy in our masks. You? Not so much." With a gleeful twist, she cracked the valve open just a fraction, the subtle hiss of gas releasing into the enclosed space like a whisper, its effects inevitable. Misty's eyes lit up with anticipation. "There we go. A little motivation to get you talking.”
Rick's eyes widened in terror as the effects hit him almost immediately. The gas was a favorite of Misty's for its efficiency and agony. It interfered with the body's ability to use oxygen, turning every breath into a torturous fight for survival. He clutched at his throat, gasping as the gas invaded his lungs, causing a burning sensation that felt like fire in his chest. His vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness washed over him, making his knees buckle. "What... what is that? I can't… breathe!" he choked out.
Keiko watched impassively, the mask in her hand still extended. "See what happens when you don't cooperate, Rick? It's not too late. Tell us who you're working with, and this ends quickly. Otherwise..." She trailed off, her tone almost pitying, as if she were disappointed in him.
Misty leaned against the elevator wall, her gloved hand still on the valve, adjusting it ever so slightly to increase the flow. She thrived on moments like this, the power rush of watching someone suffer while she remained utterly protected. "Oh, come on, Keiko, let him feel it a bit more. He's tough, right? Let's see how long he lasts."
With a tingling sensation in his arms and legs, Rick clutched at his neck, gasping. Keiko remained calm, her gaze steady. "Officer Misty here is not one for patience. So start confessing, Rick. Give us something useful, and we might let you have this." She waved the mask again, her voice soft but firm.
Rick still resisted, sputtering denials through choked breaths. But the chemicals worked methodically, causing a deep, searing pain in his chest, like fire spreading through his veins. He doubled over, coughing violently, tears streaming down his face. His resolve finally crumbled, "Okay! Okay, fine! I... I deal with the Blackwater group. Shipments come in from the docks every Tuesday. Names… uh, there's Viktor, he's the ringleader, and... and Elena handles the payments!"
Keiko nodded approvingly, her calm demeanor unshaken. "Good, Rick. Keep going. We need it all." She gestured to Misty, who reluctantly eased the valve back a notch, slowing the flow just enough to let him speak without immediately collapsing. Misty pouted playfully behind her mask. "Aw, come on, Keiko. I was just getting started.”
Rick poured out the details, his words tumbling out between hacks and wheezes. The gas had him in its grip now, his skin flushing red as hypoxia set in, each breath a struggle that left him weaker. When he finally finished, he slumped against the elevator wall and looked up at Keiko with pleading eyes. "Please... the mask. I told you everything. I can't... breathe..."
Keiko paused, her gloved hand still holding the mask just out of reach. The begging, the desperation, she liked it. She wasn't as outwardly eager as Misty, but oh, how she savored this power. With a soft, almost tender smile hidden behind her mask, she leaned in closer, taunting him gently. "Oh, dear Rick, you're quite the sight. Begging so sweetly... It's almost endearing. But you see, your confession has earned you something else entirely. A death sentence, I'm afraid. You've been a very bad man, and now it's time to pay."

Rick's eyes widened in horror, his body wracked with another wave of coughs that sounded like his lungs were tearing apart. "No, please! I told you everything! Don't-"

Misty's laughter cut him off, her excitement bubbling over as she watched Keiko's sadistic display. "Oh, Keiko, you're such a tease," Misty purred, her voice thick with admiration.

She stepped forward, twisting the valve fully open without a second's hesitation. The cylinder hissed loudly now, flooding the elevator with a thick wave of poison gas. "Let's finish this loser off."
Misty moved closer, her enjoyment palpable as she leaned in to watch Rick's final moments, her gloved hand resting on the cylinder like a lover's touch. "That's it, breathe it in deep," she whispered, her voice thick with delight. The gas was merciless; Rick's skin paled, his eyes bulged, and he collapsed against the elevator wall, his body twitching in the throes of death. Misty shivered with relief, the act of gassing him fulfilling her in ways she craved.
Keiko, though calm on the surface, felt the same thrill coursing through her. She tucked the spare mask away, unnecessary now, and turned to Misty with a soft, knowing smile. "That’s another loser dealt with." As the elevator filled with the silence of Rick's final breath, the two women waited for the gas to dissipate before resuming their exit, their bond strengthened by the shared rush of justice served.

—
Good news, I finished my irl research and obligations. So, more time to draw now.
Further news tomorrow.

Feedback and or art tips are always welcome.