As you read, you figure the end of this letter will not be signed. It couldn’t. The words were too perplexing, too vague, too insane. _Why_ had this person written so many strange vowels and consonants, all to tell you that you were going to die at 8am tomorrow?

Nobody with a death threat would be dumb enough to sign their name unless they wanted you to fear them.

Unfortunately, they were so, incredibly wrong about you.

_“- H. L.” _

Scrawled in desperate, raging script at the end of the page — the initials of someone who would likely show up at your doorstep at 7:59am tomorrow morning, or burst through your fancy windows tonight.

This person must figure that being mysterious and discreet with a couple of initials would make you unprepared for what is to come. That you had no idea the kind of power they will have for your unprepared, naïve mind.

They are underestimating you.

Superheroes were dumb, but you didn’t think they’d all be _idiots_.

“Tara, my dear,” you extend the letter across the chaise to your darling _épouse_, “Read the first few sentences aloud for the both of us. I must hear it.”

The page catches the light of the fireplace. She looks up from her precious wine with a twinkle in her eye, looking an absolute gem. The rich gold accoutrement, rings and necklace and bracelets that you stole just for her, clink like glass when she reaches over to take the parchment.

“What ever is it now?” she hums. “Cat’s got your tongue, darling?”

She bats her lashes and you snatch the hand covered in jewels with a gentle kiss. “Humor me.”

The plush red orange of the mantle glows brighter as she begins to read.

_“You will not get away with this. I know where you live, and what kind of villain you really are. If you give yourself up willingly, I will not kill you — you will be put on fair trial and sentenced as a normal citizen. Your wife as well. But I know you will not do so willingly, so be prepared for the former. I will not hold back!” _

You begin to laugh at the audacity of your nemesis, heard through Tara’s words. The thought of you _hiding_ in the shadows, like a bat! How cute.

Your empire runs so much deeper than this “_H. L.” _can possibly comprehend. You are the blood that gives life to the vermin’s own paradise. This city is yours to command, not his.

“Oh boo, our mystery writer is all brash,” Tara frowns. One leg drapes out of her evening gown over the chaise and she sets the paper down. “Does he bite?”

“We both know what he will do, my dear — come swashbuckling in here with all the brovado of a schoolboy. They are all the same, yes? We must squash the cockroaches, or they will be another one of our headaches. I’d like to not replace another one of our stained glass window with a fight.”

“_You_ are strong, my love.” Tara sets down the wine and runs a hand up your shoulder. “We will do the nastiest things to stop him from ruining us, just to prove a point.”

“Hermeus Lancelot does not need spectacle for a point. Be all but certain he will weaken at the knees when we threaten to end his life forever. Our mansion must stand tall.”

“I know,” says Tara. “But how hilarious would it be for him to…,” she cups your cheek, scandalous fingers against your lips, “…see us together before he dies?”

“Trap him with us in our sacred dungeon, dearest?” You lean towards her lips, made red in the firelight. “You fox.” You seal yourselves together, drunk on the thought of one of your many nemesis’s watching the two of you make passionate love. All for the sake of revenge and spite.

Tara breaks away first with a deep laugh, amused and sexy and nearly too perfect to be your supervillain-worthy wife. How did you get so lucky?

“Shall we use leathers or rope to tie him up?” she asks eagerly.

“I’ve a better plan. We shall force him to write down everything he sees between the two of us. That boy must work on his handwriting. It is simply atrocious.”

“God, you are so beautiful.”

“You are more.”

And the letter falls to the floor as the fireplace blazes, as you fall into more passionate embraces on the chaise, anticipating the arrival of your precious superhero. Scheming. Plotting. Just what you and Tara are best at doing together. Partners in crime.