You opened your closet and smiled. 'This is why I wake up in the morning.' Inside the closet was a wall rack filled with firearms and other useful items that you've gained through your years in the force. You eyed the wall of weapons for the most useful items for this mission. You are about to attempt to sneak into a closed and crowded building where long hallways are present, as seen in the floor plans of your chosen place of infiltration. So, you grabbed a standard knife for close combat, your phone for the pictures you need, a ton of C4 to bury that hell hole to the ground, and a desert eagle plus 5 clips of ammo, which made a total 36 bullets, just in case you get caught in a fire fight. You closed the doors to the closet, satisfied with what you have. You made your way into the kitchen, where the floor plans of the building and your trusty designer bag awaited you. You took the piece of paper and folded it into a neat little square that you slipped into your chest pocket. After that, you took the designer bag and placed all of your equipment, excluding your phone, in it, zipping it nicely and putting it on. Your phone went to your pocket for easy access.
Beep beep, beep beep
The alarm! You brought out your phone and saw that your alarm for 7 o' clock was ringing. 'Alright. Show time.' You started walking out the door, but not without stopping at the bathroom to examine yourself.
You were wearing a fitting red dress that hugged your body perfectly. You were fortunate enough to be able to say that you were 'hot'. High heels carried your feet while your face stayed all natural, with absolutely no changes to the original product. You wore white gloves not for aesthetics, but because you knew just how bad blood stains fur. You breathed out a sigh, 'Hopefully this works. This to be the most demeaning thing I've ever done in my life.' Yup. You hated the fact that you were hot. 'Why couldn't I've been a little less hourglassy? It attracts so many goddamn creepers whenever I take a fucking jog outside. At the very least, I had the authority to arrest those motherfuckers.' You shook your head. No use complaining about it now. At least with your looks, you'll be able to pass for a regular 'costumer' in the club you were going to expose.
There you were, standing in front of one of the biggest vore clubs to exist in this city. There were many Pokémon lined up at the entrance to be able to experience the sensation of eating someone whole. Luckily, you thought ahead to make a reservation. With a ticket you had bought earlier in the week, you bypassed the long line of horny monsters and go straight inside with no quarrels. As you approached the entrance, a buff Machoke blocked your way, "Ticket, ma'am?" You smiled as you showed the bouncer your ticket. The burly fighting-type took it and inspected the piece of paper. Once he was done, he handed it back, "Everything seems to be in order."
"Thank you. I'll be on my way now." You took a few steps before once again, being stopped by the Machoke, "Is there a problem?" You asked.
"Sorry, ma'am, but I'm going to have to ask you if you have a phone. Basic protocol."
You raised your eyebrows as you brought your phone out of your pocket, "Yeah, I have one right here."
The Machoke shook his head, "Sorry, ma'am, but no phones allowed. You can leave yours here if you want to get in and you can get it back if you leave." You didn't like how he said 'if' in that statement. However, his choice of words was not the thing bothering you, "What do you mean I can't bring my phone?"
"I'm sorry but it's a new rule. I wouldn't blame you if you hadn't known."
'New?' You thought. "How new?"
"I dunno when exactly. Probably a year ago?" A year?! Fuck! Those guys specifically made it so that you couldn't leave this place with any pictures or recordings! You're gonna have to find another way in.
"You know what? Never mind." You turned to leave the entrance, before remembering that you still had a ticket. You looked to the crowd of people standing and saw a Dragonite standing alone, looking pretty bummed about something. "Hey! You! Draggyboy!" The big dragon jumped at your call and spun around to find the source of the call. Once he saw you, his eyes widened as he examined your whole body. You ignored his actions and went up to the dragon, "You're lookin' pretty down there. What's wrong?"
"I... I-i-i..." The poor thing could even finish his sentence.
"You what?"
"I... wanted to visit this club tonight because... she's performing... but I can't. I'm broke." He pouted looking like a dog being denied his dinner.
"Well, Mr...?"
"It's Terry."
"Terry! It's your lucky day! Cause I have absolutely, positively no need for this!" You pulled out your ticket and showed it off to him, making the Dragonite's jaw drop. "I've got places to be and it would be a shame if this went to waste. So... here." You handed him the ticket and left for an alley that you remembered seeing at the side of the building.
"T-t-t-thank you, miss! Thank you so much!" You shook your head. A wimp like that? Must be looking to get himself killed in there. At least, it's what he wants. But you'll never be able to wrap your head around wanting to kill someone just for the sake of pleasure. Or wanting to kill yourself for the same reason. Then again, serial killers and auto asphyxiation lovers exist soooo... Whatever.
Alright. You've made it to the alley and two options lay before you.
Looking upwards shows that the apartment next to the club has those metal platforms with the ladders and stairs for their residents. With those, you could climb up and make your way to the top of the building, possible sneaking through the vents for a picture from the sky.
However, looking straight forward revealed that the club had a back entrance. A lone Bisharp stood there, sharpening their appendages. As a fighting type, you had a major advantage over a Pokémon like that. Besides, no one would miss a single guard. Especially if said guard was dumped along with the remains of the participants of this club's 'events'.
Whatever choice you made, you knew one thing was certain. You were going to leave this place. Either with blood and pictures on your paws or in the stomach of anyone of the numerous predators in that club.
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