Knock, Knock

There was only one rule: don’t open the door.

Vera had never been one for rules. They begged to broken.

Day after day, the door lurked in the distance of her desk. Like a large red button or the array of numbered circles on an elevator, it begged to be pushed. Or in this case, pulled.

She hadn’t pulled in a while. Perhaps this is why something so much as a door handle held so much allure. Easier to grab than the digital ones, that was clear. The last time Vera had tried online dating, she fell hook, line, and sinker for the first catfish she found.

Vera always did prefer her fish blackened.

Mia said this was her best bet. “Don’t open the door unless you’re ready to accept the consequences.”

“Treat it like a gun.” “Always loaded.”

Vera shifted her hand on the mousepad and lowered her pointer finger on the button, entering the chat room.

Neo: A/S/L?

VerasWang: 19/F/The Matrix.

Neo: I’ve heard that one before.

She laughed, snorting her coffee up her nose, and waited for the chat bubbles to stop.

Before Vera lay a detailed list of instructions. Wire transfer codes, Tor specs, onion browsers, IP cloaking. She wasn’t sure it was English. But one section was very clear: target.

Vera may not have known their name, but she knew their patterns.

VerasWang: On Snapchat like clockwork at 12 EST, WhatsApp’s spicy pics at 2. BTC transfers the first Friday every month, each time from a different account.

Vera was ready for her catfish to be blackened. Just like he had blackmailed her. Neo was the best in the business. A door that couldn’t be unopened.

Neo: Knock, knock.