My Date from Hell

*Trigger Warnings*

This story may contain multiple triggers not palatable for some readers including but not limited to:

-sexual violence

-physical violence

-domestic violence

-sexual scenarios

-poisoning

-murder

You never really think that the simple act of swiping right on someones dating profile could change your life for the worst. Yet here I was, in the bathroom of Chateau le Rouge with my emergency pack. I wasn’t completely innocent either, but in no way was I going to allow Brad to hurt another woman the way he hurt me. Backtrack to about one month ago, to when I first messaged Brad. His profile pictures were thirst traps of him shirtless at the gym, much different from the thousands of guys with fishing pictures I’ve passed on. He was tall and muscular and his arms were covered in tattoos, just my type I thought. We got to talking and eventually went on our first date. That was when I should have noticed it, his possessiveness and aggression. At first I ignored all of the red flags most of my friends would have steered me away from, brushing it off as him just being an alpha male. One time at dinner I almost walked out because he was being an ass and as I was nearing the door he gripped my arm so hard I got bruises the next day. That was my first sign. He wasn’t really interested in me as a person, just my assets and what I could offer him physically. I had a tight body without losing my voluptuous features from all my years of training to be a hit woman. He never asked what I did for a living and I would never tell. My job was to take out bad guys and I seemed to have just stumbled upon one, so I just let him do his worst. Another night out, we were walking home from a bar and he was being pretty handsy so he took it upon himself to push me up against an alley wall and have his way with me. I was being extra flirty after a few shots of tequila but just because I didn’t say no didn’t mean I was sober enough to do it with him. He may not have been on my teams hit list but this made him on mine. I wasn’t the first, but surely I’d make sure that I was his last. It was the next day that I decided to look him up on my criminal database to see if he had any outstanding charges. He had not only one but four counts of sexual battery over a span of five years. This would be his last, I had enough credibility to go ahead and get rid of Brad for good. So next week when we had planned our date at the high end french restaurant, I’d be prepared. He wouldn’t think twice about the fact that I opted for a larger bag than usual, or that my heels were a bit pointier than previous dates we went on. He wouldn’t know that many of the chefs at the restaurant were good friends of mine. He definitely had no idea some even worked sous in the kitchen just as a cover. I was known as the “Black Widow” on my team, a beautiful and deadly master of poisons. My favorite method? Thallium. A tasteless, odorless hard to detect poison. Many of my victims thought it was just bad food that made them not feel so good until a few hours they were out cold on the floor. By that time, I was far away from the scene and I didn’t even need to get my hands dirty. I called up some of my incognitos, the ones on my team who supplied everything to keep us undetected at the crime scene. Wigs, contacts, change of clothes, sunglasses, that sort of thing. I could walk into a place as one person and walk out another and no one would suspect a thing. Once I had my bag packed, five inch stilettos picked out with my “sexy” little dress I was ready to call Brad to pick me up for our date. He’d assume I dressed for him and I guess in a way I did, just not in the way he thought. Once we got to the table he pulled out a chair for me. Too bad one small kind gesture couldn’t make up for all the hurt he has caused me and so many others. I had planned tonight in advance and I wasn’t backing down, this was for the greater good. I had given a vial of the Thallium to Roy who was working in the back sending plates of food to the patrons, I had made sure he’d be working tonight specifically for this moment. Brad ordered beef bourguignon with a twist and I stuck with the classic ratatouille. After Roy brought out our plates and gave me an encouraging nod, I knew my plan was well under way. Brad was enjoying his would-be last meal, smacking it in his mouth obnoxiously. A few bites into my ratatouille, I excused myself to go to the restroom. I kept my head down, avoiding any possible cameras, as I entered the restroom. Thank goodness all the trendy spots had gender-free restrooms. I entered the largest stall, locked it and began unpacking my bag of illusions. Leonard packed me what he likes to call his Swap pack, complete with all the disguises to transform a girl like me into an average Joe. Baggy jeans, tight wrap to conceal my breasts, black polo shirt, too large black mens dress shoes, business cropped brown wig, brown contacts, even an adhesive beard and last but not least sunglasses. Once satisfied with my new look, I did a once over of myself to make sure none of my feminine touches remained and no one was in the bathroom. I shoved my Swap pack in the vents for Roy to grab after closing. Brad was definitely not having a good time right now, it would be roughly forty-five minutes until his internal organs would start shutting down and there would be one less predator in the world. Once satisfied with myself, I walked out of the restaurant undetected.