A dark caption.

Mr. Olsen walked through the woman's woman's apartment, her heels making a loud click each time he took a step. He didn't worry about the noise, though, it actually worked in his favor. If anyone were to be asked about her going missing, they'd likely say they heard her that day. He had worn a wig that looked like her hair going on, and the apartment wasn't well-lit, and he wasn't one to linger by any windows.

He walked into her bedroom, found a suitcase, and started to fill it with her sexiest clothes. He took delight in the look and feel of them, particularly her lingerie and hosiery.

As he packed, he couldn't help but look up every so often at the mirror on her closet door and see himself. His head could use some work, he thought, but his body was just incredible. This woman had what he considered the perfect body. He smiled at that. It was both her blessing and her curse, for because of it that she was brought to his attention. A trip down, a fake interview for a nonexistent modeling job, it was all too simple. She never had any idea until it was far too late and now here he was, his head on her sexy body.

Ironic, he thought as he finished packing and was ready to head out the door, that her biggest asset turning into her most glaring liability!