A dark caption.

Elizabeth Bartholomew, twenty-six, was heading to meet a couple of friends for drinks at a nearby bar. She walked across the street and by all accounts never made it to the sidewalk on the other side. Cameras either had blind spots in that spot or were blocked by obstructions like the unmarked large van parked nearby. No one seemed to have noticed a thing, and her friends never saw her again.

Max Newstead, eighty-three, walked away from the empty storefront several blocks away a happy person. Elizabeth's body had a feeling that he could not quite describe. A mix of vigor, feminine beauty, hairless, painless, no aches or issues, a feeling of health and vitality he had not felt in many years. Yes, his head would be a bit odd for most and he would omit how his head ended up stitched onto her body, but that was a small price to pay for all the benefits!