Swipe Right

By Erin N. Price

He wiped his brow with the restaurant’s linen napkin. Would she notice how fast his heart was racing? Would she be able to tell that he hadn’t been on a real date in years?

He looked down at his phone, opening her profile for the tenth time. She was beautiful, at least as beautiful as she could be without being too good for him. I mean, he was approaching 40—he couldn’t be picky. She liked children, baking, and candy. What’s not to love about that?

He looked up, and she was there. She looked even better than her picture: flowing dark hair, large eyes with long eyelashes, a charming little mole on her cheek. Her nose looked a bit larger than it had online, but who was he to care? He wasn’t exactly Brad Pitt.

“Hello, are you Hans?” she asked. She had a European accent, but he couldn’t place the country.

“Yes, yes, sit down.” He was embarrassed that she’d walked up while he was looking at her profile. He was embarrassed that he was here at all. He’d always told his friends that he would never resort to a dating app. But how was an almost 40-year-old man supposed to meet a decent woman these days? And she looked decent. Even better than decent. He took a breath.

“Mary? It’s nice to meet you.” He extended his hand and she shook it, not seeming to notice how sweaty it was.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” she said. “And if I can say, you look much better than your picture—simply delicious!”

A very European thing to say. Hans chuckled nervously. Mary laughed along with him, loudly enough for the couple next to them to turn around. Hans tried to ignore them. He liked Mary already. Confident women always put him at ease.

The waiter approached them. Hans ordered a steak, and Mary, a piece of chocolate cake.

“So, what is it you do?” asked Hans when the waiter had taken their menus.

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” said Mary, flicking her hair seductively behind her shoulder. “I have many hobbies. And what is it you do?”

Hans bit his lip, trying to focus and not just stare at Mary. She seemed to get more and more beautiful by the minute. “I practice law. I help businesses file for bankruptcy.”

“Lawyering makes it tough to maintain a good figure, does it not?” she asked. “All that sitting?”

“Yes, it does, but I do try to get to the gym every day.”

Mary looked away distractedly. Most women were impressed that he went to the gym every day. Maybe she hated gym rats?

The waiter arrived, and Hans tucked into the delicious steak. Mary picked at her cake while batting her eyelashes at him. He knew he should flirt back, but he wasn’t sure he remembered how.

“Are you not hungry?” asked Hans.

“Oh, I’m very hungry,” said Mary. “I just prefer other foods.”

“Do you want to order something else?”

“Oh no. I have much better treats at my place. You will join me.” Mary smiled wide at Hans, her perfect teeth gleaming. Hans caught a scent of her perfume, a sweet smell like gingersnap cookies, and he felt giddier than he had after kissing his first girlfriend in high school.

Hans hadn’t expected Mary to be so forward, but he’d heard that’s how women were these days. First date, and they were already asking you to come to their apartment. Hans hadn’t expected something like that to happen to him, and from a beautiful woman, too. He felt flattered.

“Uh, sure, I’d love to.”

Mary winked, a twinkle in her eye. Hans looked down, embarrassed, hoping she liked him even if his flirting skills needed work.

Hans finished his dinner and paid. Remembering his manners, he helped Mary put on her coat. As he did so, she leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Aren’t you a sweetie pie?” Hans blushed, proud that his attempts to be a gentleman were appreciated.

As pleased as he was that Mary had invited him over on the first date (what a story to tell his buddies!), he was a bit worried. What if she lived miles away and she turned out to be a crazy cat lady or something? What if he couldn’t figure out how to get back?

Hans opened his location tracker app. Every few feet, he pinged his location to his sister, Greta. She was like a mother to him, always worried about him. If anything crazy happened, at least she would know where he was. Mary didn’t seem to notice; she was walking unusually quickly, leading the way to her place.

He was surprised to find that Mary’s apartment was just a few blocks away. It was the most colorful apartment he’d ever seen—the wallpaper was bright orange with pink stripes. And Mary hadn’t lied about liking treats. There was not just one candy bowl in the living room, but five, all overflowing with candy.

“Sit down, make yourself comfortable!” said Mary. “I’ll start the oven!”

Hans pushed aside a pile of candy to sit down awkwardly on the couch. He heard Mary in the kitchen, clinking pots and pans and muttering to herself.

“Eat as much candy as you want!” called Mary.

Hans slowly picked up a pack of Smarties and unwrapped it, placing each one in his mouth and letting it dissolve on his tongue. Then he sat back and waited. And waited. The longer he waited, the more candy he ate. Soon, a pile of candy wrappers surrounded him. He was starting to feel sweaty again. A giant clock ticked on the wall, and Mary continued to bang around in the kitchen. What was taking her so long? Should he help her?

He walked toward the kitchen—and was blasted back by a wave of fiery heat. It was blazing in here! A giant oven dominated the kitchen space, and the temperature read 700 degrees. What in the world was she baking?

Mary stood on a stepstool, stirring the largest pot he had ever seen. As Hans walked toward her, she turned suddenly. “What are you doing in here?” she said, smiling, although there was fire in her eyes. “Dessert isn’t ready yet! It’s supposed to be a surprise!”

“Sorry,” said Hans, embarrassed. “I was just looking for the, uh, bathroom?”

Hans walked down the hall in the direction Mary pointed. He breathed hard, thinking of that angry look in Mary’s eyes. The fact that it didn’t match her smile was worrying him. That look reminded him of his last ex-girlfriend, who would slide into fits of rage with no warning. Maybe he should have listened to his buddies when they tried to talk him out of online dating. But surely, Mary couldn’t be as bad as his ex.

He opened the bathroom door and squished up his nose at the smell of formaldehyde. On the shelves in the bathroom were various glass jars with small cards attached to each. He moved forward to read one of the cards; it looked like a recipe. “Add ¼ tsp nutmeg and 3 cups sugar,” it read. Then Hans jumped back in horror. Inside the jar was a floating eyeball. The other jars contained various body parts, including an ear, a toe, and a finger.

A human finger.

He turned, and he was face to face with Mary.

“Hansey!” she called, a lopsided grin filling her face. “Dinner’s almost ready! We just need the main course!”

Thoughts raced through Hans’s mind. He knew he shouldn’t ask about the body parts. Why in the world would she keep such a thing in her bathroom?

“I, uh, I think I need to step out for some fresh air,” he said.

“Not until after dinner!” said Mary. The expression in her eyes looked wild. He couldn’t remember why he had found her so beautiful. She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the kitchen. Hans’s brain was screaming warning signals. He could hear his own heartbeat.

The temperature on the oven read 1,000 degrees. Mary pushed him towards it.

“There’s some delicious dessert in the oven,” said Mary. “Can you check on it for me?”

Hans shook his head. “Why don’t you check it?” But Mary was already behind him, grabbing him by the arms and pushing him toward the open oven. She was definitely crazier than his ex.

The heat was so intense his face was melting. Hans twisted, trying to break free of Mary’s strong grip. She grabbed him by the back of the neck and began pushing him headfirst into the oven’s fiery depths.

“Let go of me, you witch!” Hans screamed as Mary laughed. Hans tried to kick his leg at her but missed. She cackled loudly, and a spray of her spit hit the back of his neck. Her laughter might be the last sound he would ever hear.

A ring sounded from his pocket. Hans pushed his arm toward his pocket, and Greta’s voice came on the line.

“Hans? Hans, are you there?”

Mary, momentarily distracted by the voice, loosened her grip on Hans. Hans pulled away and raced toward the front door. He gripped the knob and tried to turn it. Locked.

And Mary was behind him, cackling. “Where are you going, Hansey? Aren’t you hungry?”

Hans jumped from her outstretched arms and raced toward the bathroom. He had seen a window there. It was his last hope. He burst through the bathroom, knocking down jars on his way toward the window. An eyeball rolled on the floor beside him.

And then Mary was right behind him, cackling, grabbing at him. He jumped toward the window, pulled it up, and launched himself through it. He felt Mary grab at his foot as he rolled to the ground. He stood and ran, faster than he’d ever run in his life. Sweat rolled down his face as he raced down the street, pushing people aside. Mary must be right behind him, but he didn’t dare turn around.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bright yellow cab, and he waved his arm. Amazingly, it stopped and he jumped in. “43rd street!” he screamed at the driver.

As the cab zoomed away, Hans tried to control his breathing. He couldn’t believe he had been about to become somebody’s dinner. He picked up his phone from his pocket and dialed 9-1—but then he stopped. Who would believe him if he said that his blind date was planning to cook him in her oven? He would love to see the look on that cop’s face. Besides, he was safe now. He was headed home. He sat back in the seat, wiping sweat from his forehead and letting himself breathe.

He texted Greta: “U saved my life. Explain later. Thanx.”

Hans’s phone pinged. It was a notification from the dating app. More to distract himself than anything else, he opened it. Amazingly, another woman had said she was interested in him. She was stunningly beautiful. She said she was a widow looking for the right person. She listed her interests as “working in the laboratory, apples, and my beautiful stepdaughter.” Her profile name was “The Fairest One of All.”

She was a scientist, she liked healthy foods (not candy!), and she loved her family. How bad could she be?