All the profiles about work, sports, and dogs inspired Cassandra to dig out her grave. She was just about to switch off her computer when she came across an anonymous profile with a very brief summary. It said,

“Looking for a worthy adversary to fulfill my villainley needs. Must be clever, quick, and nauseatingly principled. Oh and I also prefer brunettes. I fall in love with blondes too easily.

Sincerely your worst nightmare,

A handsome evil genius

Relieved and intrigued to finally have found a profile that didn’t include sports or dogs. She swiped right and called her hair stylist.

“Hello, could you get me a dye that’ll make me look like a natural brunette?”

She giggled when she asked. But her smile quickly disappeared when she heard the voice from the receiving end. It was deep, brooding, and resembled the unsettling feeling one experiences when looking at a broken mirror.

“Splendid, splendid. You may come whenever you like. Your hair stylist friend should be here unless she’s strong enough to punch through solid metal. It’s up to you to rescue her. If I may ask, would you be ever as so kind as to be as creative as possible. Calling the police is boring and simply showing up with a surprise won’t be surprising. Don’t let my expertise intimidate you, my dear. I’m certain that at the mercy of your wits I don’t stand a chance.”

He blew her a kiss and hung up.