A small, slightly stooped man in a dusty topcoat and with a trite hat, which was obviously too large for his head, seemed lost in the whiteness of the marble corridor in which he was standing. Behind his ear, a dirty-gray tuft of hair lightly flickered on the draft from the door behind him. His face was shriveled, but not from his age, but from the undefined inner torment that left scars over his cheeks and wrinkled forehead. Absorbed in thoughts, he scratched his unshaven cheek, looking as he has some second thoughts. He looked back at the door that he entered through less than a minute ago. The light of the hot summer day blinded him at the moment, and he proceeded in the depth of the corridor.

- At least they have air condition here. - he mumbled, but his low, subdued voice sounded like a song we sing to encourage ourselves while walking in a deep dark, forest.

He followed the corridor but his steps seemed to lose that indecisiveness he has heard in his own voice. You could not find that indecisiveness in his eyes, either. To tell the truth, he looked much better than the people who were sitting in the entrance hall of the building. They were murmuring, rustling, walking around, asking questions at the reception desk, talking among themselves (but only in a very low voice)... none of that mattered to the small man in the topcoat. He was little bent in the flank, but that was only because he carried a large wooden guitar box in his hand. Unlike the man, it was spotlessly clean. In fact, it seemed like he was polishing it while he walked to the building of the RED Inc.

He did walk all the way from his home to the white, tall building with darkened windows, settled in the mere center of the town. Over the entrance of the building, a simple inscription was written in the red neon lights: RED Inc. The man circled the building quite a few times, thinking, but once he made his decision, nothing could falter him.

In a firm walk, he lunged to the reception desk, where a tall receptionist, dressed in the white uniform, was waiting for him. The scenery looked like some super luxurious hotel, but the persons in the building, including the people in the entrance hall, were here for one reason, same to all. But the reason of the small man with the guitar box was completely different.

He reached the irreproachably clean marble stand. The receptionist was proudly standing behind it, looking at all the persons somewhat from the above. His white, freshly ironed uniform seemed to give him that right, so the little man took no offence.

- I... - he started to stutter.

- Your name, Sir. - said the receptionist in a cold, businesslike and uninterested voice, not looking at the man at all, but staring at some non-existent spot at the wall in front of him.

- My... Joseph Klaus... I would like to...- he stuttered in a weak voice, resting upon his box, which now stood beside him vertically, almost higher than him.

- Please, take a card with the number on it - said the receptionist, handing one over the desk. He placed the card on it. - We will call you when your turn comes. Thank you. - Joseph had a little trouble to pick a slick card from the smooth marble desk, but he finally did it.

He examined the hall, looking for a seat on the overcrowded benches. His gaze was brightly cold; some might even say that it seemed a little dominant, maybe even mastery. He felt exactly like that, not wanting to sit beside these puny, worthless shells who were always struggling for just a piece of a happiness in their lives. He finally found one bench for which he believed it might be quiet and well enough separated from the others, and approached it. As he sat down, putting the box beside him, not leaving a hand from it, not even for a moment, he felt someone sat down beside him, and a long, white hand appeared in front of him.

- Brian. - Reluctantly, Joseph took the hand, obviously not wanting to.

- Joseph...- - So, Joseph, what brings you here? - the man asked, but started laughing hard and loud, suddenly aware of the stupidity of the question. As Brian thought, all of them were here with the same reason.

At the sound of that cheerful, merry laughter, heads turned toward them. There were many excited, angry, but a lot of weeping heads, as well. Joseph was trying to avoid these looks, trying to sneak his head in his coat, like a turtle in its shell. The fingers on his hand were almost white as he grabbed his box with all his strength, seeming like trying to protect it.

- Wait, wait... let me guess. - said Brian once his laughter receded. He squinted through his eyes, like he was judging him in some sort of way. Joseph looked at him with unease.

- A woman. That's what you need, right? Some cool chick like Demi Moore or something like that, aye? - Brian laughed.

Joseph felt relieved.

- Yeah, yeah... something like that. - he mumbled.

- See, I know to read a man when I need to. How did you hear about RED Inc., anyway? A friend of mine put a good word on it. Holly, I banged my head all day long, until I got it, finally. I thought of becoming a movie star, like Brad Pitt. What 'ya say about that? - a wide smile gave some faint beauty to his young but somehow impersonal face. - How did you say you found about this company? I guess they are not on the TV commercials, at least not yet. - another cheering burst of laughter spread through the entrance hall. This time, the sound of the laughter attracted the attention of one of the receptionists as well. He sent one grim look over the hall to Brian. He gave a brief look at the list he had in his hand, and then he flicked the switch of the microphone connected with the loudspeakers in the hall to ON.

- Number thirty-six - the voice announced.

- All right! - Brian cried out - My turn. I'm going now, old man. Good luck to you! - he said while he was getting up from the bench he was sitting on. Looks that followed him seemed thankful that it was his turn, even it was obvious it wasn't really his turn. They've had it with that intrusive sniveler.

Brian went to the desk, spoke with the receptionist very briefly, signed some papers and then cheerfully ran away, brandishing with his papers frantically. A satisfied look of the receptionist escorted him, but his little malevolent smile promised him no good.

Joseph waited in the hall for hours, not moving from the bench at all. He put his box on the bench beside him, clearly not wanting any company at all, but it seemed that no one actually wanted to chatter with that small, strange looking guy anyway. For all those hours, his light smile didn't faint.

Entrance hall started to look empty, as evening started to fall over the city. On the sidewalk in front of the building, red lights increased their intensity, flashing on the concrete. RED Inc., RED Inc., RED Inc., the sidewalk was screaming. Joseph averted his eyes, not disturbed by this ill-omened signs. For Joseph Klaus, the days of bad signs were over.

- Number fifty-two - the voice announced.

Slowly, taking his time, Joseph picked his guitar-box up and went to the receptionist's.

- Please... - the receptionist started, but Joseph cut in.

His voice was not trembling, nor it was quiet or pliable. He knew what he wanted.

- I want to speak with a higher rank. - - What? - asked the receptionist with maze.

- I said I want to speak with someone with the higher rank. The highest. Now. - he said.

- Sir, you can't just...- the voice of the receptionist trembled with anger but with hidden laughter as well. Who does this puny, little man thinks he is?

Joseph paid no attention, but he reached for the pocket of his coat, and brought out a small glass jar and put it on the desk. The man at the desk silenced as he saw the jar, firmly shut with a cover.

It was a small jar, like the ones with peanut butter, and a blue smoke was whirling in it. It tumbled as it seemed randomly, dancing its small play under the cover, for the receptionist's eyes only. In the middle of the jar, somewhere around the center of the blue, dancing smoke, the receptionist saw a tiny dot of light, not bigger than a pin's head. It was shining like the sun. The receptionist thoughtfully looked at it.

- Is it an...- - It is - Klaus replied.

- I' ve never seen one before. May I ask how...- - You may not. - The receptionist made no reply. He wasn't used to be treated like that. After all, he worked for the RED Inc., for God's sake. He looked at the small, dusty man with a newly founded respect for him, and he reached for the phone. He said a few brief words in the receiver, and then pointed at the elevator. He was impressed to see Joseph enter the elevator, where a gigantic bodyguard waited for him. Giant in the suit, which was at least three sizes too small for him, pressed the elevator button without a word. The receptionist envied Joseph, since he was restricted to upper levels, and this little, funny man walks in, and off he goes to the top floor! Imagine that!

Joseph stepped out of the elevator at the top floor. If the main entrance was beautiful, than this was grandeur. Unlike the entrance hall, which was entirely made of marble, this floor was made of white wood, all from the bottom to the top. He walked on the red carped, usually reserved for the VIPs only. He never felt as a VIP before, but this is going to change. He might become VVIP. Top of the ladder, almost. Top of the food chain, one might add.

The walls were decorated with valuable pieces: antique vases, gold embroidered clothing, noble weapons of old, diamonds, even a few gold crowns of some long forgotten kings. One of the crowns looked a little bit broken at the edge, as if it was won in some ancient battle as a war trophy. That edge of the crown wore a red patch, like it started to rust. Gold does not rust, he remembered, starting to shiver. Must be blood, but not stopping to double-check, not slowing down near valuable paintings or red, rich Persian tapestries with ancient wars embroidered with golden strings. Joseph Klaus proceeded down the corridor, not stopping at all.

Behind the desk in front of him, a secretary was sitting, looking at him with her pretty, big eyes. As he approached, she pulled her long, slender body out of the chair, and opened the office door behind her desk. The thin and very short dress was rustling as it caressed her killer body.

A whore, Joseph thought. She might be mine, but he dismissed the thought in the moment. He had more important things to see to, at the moment.

- He is here, mister S. - she said to the person on the other side of the door, and then moved away, letting Joseph pass through. She frowned when she saw his dirty coat and tired, broken appearance, but said nothing. She just closed the door of the office once Joseph found himself in it.

Mr. S. sat behind the desk, giving a grim look to the newcomer.

- Mr. Klaus, I must say that this is highly irregular. I mean, to drop on in like this... not good, Mr. Klaus. - but his voice tone changed almost immediately. - May I see it? - he asked with curiosity in his voice. Joseph thought that he heard an admixture of imploring as well.

- No, if it's not really necessary. - - Well, it is. - the voice of Mr. S. was completely blank and cold. Actually, it was not entirely necessary, but he had to make sure. He was curious, as well.

Joseph sighed, pulled the jar out of pocket, raised it, and then put it back once he was sure that the man behind the desk had a good look at it.

- Interesting. Indeed. That's it, without a doubt. - Mr. S. said to himself, like as a confirmation of the information he received from the receptionist'.

- I would like to see Mr. Gray, if it's possible. - Joseph replied.

- Of course. Mr. Gray is in India at the moment but he will join us any moment now. - Joseph ignored the impossibility of this statement, reacting only with raising his brow.

- Oh? Business? - Klaus asked, not caring actually.

He was just trying to be polite.

Mr. S. gave him a look, which said that Gray's business was not their own, but he replied anyway.

- He's encouraging a war, if you would like to know. But don't worry; I'm sure he will put aside all his activities to see you. As a matter of fact, I think he has just...- A button on Mr. S.' desk started flashing in red and buzzing in a low tone.

- He has just arrived. He's waiting for you in his office. - said the man behind the desk, pointing at the massive black door behind him.

Joseph picked up his box and went to the door. They seemed to grow as he was approaching. He touched the doorknob reluctantly, expecting it to be warm. Actually it was cold, and that coldness sneaked beneath his skin, freezing his blood stream. A fear rose in him, but he waved it away, not without a struggle. He opened the door, and felt his decisiveness striking him again. After all, he did come so far on his own. He won't stop now.

He entered a lovely, bright office. Behind the desk a tall man, dressed in black, with hands behind his back, was standing and watching the city below.

- Join me, Joseph. May I call you Joseph? - asked the man in deep, musical voice.

- Of course. - said Joseph, walking slowly by the man, to the giant panoramic window.

After initial silence, the man went on.

- In over two hundred and twenty cities all over the world, a building of RED Corporation has its place. I have over two hundred and twenty almost identical offices, except these worthless pieces on the walls. - the man in black waved around. Joseph thought that each of those "pieces" cost no less than hundred grand's a piece. - In each of my offices, I enjoy the view. It's a nice feeling to see the city beneath your legs, isn't it, Joseph?

Joseph nodded.

The man turned toward him for the first time. He had a pretty, tanned face, sharp as it was carved, with deep, deep eyes and with the knowledge of many years hidden in them.

- Please, be seated. - Joseph did. - You didn't imagine me like this, did you?

- Just like this, believe me. - Leonard Gray smiled.

- You are a smart man, Joseph, I can see that already. I heard that you have an interesting proposal for me. Show me what you've got. - Joseph produced a jar out of this pocket once again, but this time not with fear but with pride. He came to negotiate, and negotiations had just started. He believed that they wouldn't last long.

The jar was standing on the desk between them, while the blue smoke was swirling in it. This time, its movements didn't seem to be random, but somehow panicky. Gray gazed at it with the fixation, concentrating his attention on the small shiny sun, which seemed to loose its shine under his shadow. Gray thought he saw a tiny, suffering face in the blue whirl, but it was gone in a second. Animalistic hunger grew in Gray's eyes. Then he took the jar.

- May I? - he asked.

- Of course. It is a gift. A... free sample, if you will.

They both smiled now.

With a careful twist, Gray removed the cover, pressed his face on the opening, and took a deep breath, inhaling the blue smoke. Joseph saw as the little shiny sun turned bloody red on its way to Gray's lips. He thought he heard a faint, sub audible scream, distant, like the scream from the other side of a thick glass. The content of the jar disappeared in that single, deep breath, and at the very same moment, the sun went down the horizon. Darkness crawled over the city. Gray put the jar back on the table, losing his interest in it. A new shine was in his eyes, and he suddenly looked fresher, and his smile was broadening. He seemed very pleased.

- You are fully aware of the gift you presented to me, right? I mean, you do know what was in the jar. - Gray asked.

- Of course. A soul. - Klaus replied coldly.

- Human soul, indeed. A good man's soul, I might add. Doesn't your conscious bother you? - - Not at all. Should it bother me? - - I like you already. - Gray replied. - May I ask how you got it?- - With the little help of this - said Joseph as he put his guitar box in his lap. He patted on it with his fingers. - A handy jig-wig I made myself. It works on the principle of an electrical...- - Yes, yes, yes... you can explain that to my engineers once the mass production starts. Give me just the basics. - - It goes like this. You point the rifle to a man, pull the trigger, and voila, his soul is in the clip. You can easily extract it and put it in a jar, a bottle, anywhere you like. Easy, right?- - Marvelous. What do you ask for it? I mean, that's why you are here, right? - - This ain't gonna be cheap, you know. After all, this could end that eternal fight of yours. - - Name it. - - I want a position. I want to be the head of the RED Incorporated, second in a row, just after you. All the privileges, all the protection and everything that goes with it. - - Third, Joseph. Jude is the second. I can't fire him just like that. He had done some wonderful things for me, as well.

Joseph considered this for a moment, and then nodded.

- Third it is, then. Do we have a deal, Mr. Gray? - - Joseph? - - Yes? - - Don't call me mister Gray. That is just the... artistic name, if you like. Satan will do. - - All right, Satan. Do we have a deal? - The Devil's smile was from ear to ear.

- My secretary is typing the contract as we speak...-