A light drizzle fell from an overcast night sky onto a sleeping city below. The soft yellow city lights reflected faintly off the dark clouds above, creating an ominous atmosphere for the few poor souls still up at two in the morning. Down one particular street, one with a pair of flickering street lights, a man pulled up the collar of his coat to fend off light downpour. Small streams of splashing rainwater and wet rubber soles against asphalt was all that could be heard on the vacant street. The man periodically opened the front of his coat to glance at a small piece of paper pinned within. His black hair lay flat against his scalp as droplets continued to build up and fall from his exposed head.

The man paused halfway down the street, directly between the two flickering street lights, and pulled the paper completely out from inside his coat. He glanced a few times between the paper in his hands and the address on the side of the building in front of him. The building was as non-descript as they come. Two stories tall with no windows, plain tan stucco exterior, and a single front door facing the street. It was red. A deep maroon color reminiscent of fine wine. Despite facing the rain directly, the door remained completely void of any moisture. There wasn’t a drop of water anywhere to be seen on the smooth surface. 

A swift look up and down the residential street confirmed to the man that this door was highly irregular. It didn’t match any of the patterns or colors he’d seen coming here, and a cold tingling sensation up his spine told him that he could search the entire city and never come across a door quite like this. The man stood motionless for what, to him, felt like an eternity. His insides all screamed at him to run away. Go back home and leave this door behind. For a moment, the man considered doing just that. But after considering what he had to go back to, the man shook his head and lifted a trembling hand. He knocked.

His cold wet knuckles barely made contact with the door before it swung open. There was no creak, no haunting noise to turn him back, it simply swung in without a sound. The man’s hand fell limply to his side, stunned at the sight before him. The “house” in front of him turned out to be a bar. Half a dozen tables filled the left side of the surprisingly large ground floor with about eight empty chairs surrounding each one. The bar itself lined the right hand wall, complete with stools for guests to sit at and an impressive selection of alcohol behind the polished wooden counter. At the back of the room, a set of marked doors led to the bathrooms while the walls were lined with stereotypical stock photos of motorcycles, sports teams, and boats.

What struck the man as odd, though the entire situation could be classified as such, was the fact that there were no other doors or stairs that led to the second floor. Unless they were hidden in the bathroom, the man stood in the only entrance to the entire establishment. After his wide eyes finished taking in the sights, the man finally noticed that he was not as alone as he initially thought. Seated on a stool near the end of the bar was a stranger in a white suit, slowly sipping from a wide glass in front of him. The stranger didn’t acknowledge the man’s appearance in the doorway, rather continued to sip at his drink and gaze blankly at the wall in front of him.

“Excuse me.” The man in the doorway fought to keep his voice even as he called out.

“Eric Simmons.” white suit called out without turning.

Droplets continued to fall from Eric’s hair as he waited for the man in the suit to continue. After it became clear that white suit wouldn’t speak further, Eric forced his legs to walk into the bar and approach the stranger.

“I’m Eric… You just said that.” Eric let words tumble out as he walked, too afraid to let himself think or stop moving. “I was told I could come here for help.”

“Help is too selfless a word.” The white suited man turned his gaze for the first time to look at Eric directly.

Eric felt his breath catch in his throat. The stranger had crimson eyes that almost appeared to emit a faint glow.

“I’m in the business of making deals. An agreement from both parties.” The corners of the stranger’s mouth turned upwards in a sly grin. “And I assure you I intend to get the most out of any deal made here.”

Eric nodded. He stood stiffly a few feet away, too nervous to walk further and incapable of walking back the way he came.

“But come, take a seat.” The man’s grin turned into a bright smile. “Don’t take what I said to mean that you won’t profit as well. After all, what kind of business man would I be if I didn’t deliver.”

He winked one crimson eye. Eric opened his mouth to laugh but no sound came out. Everything around him felt wrong. The stranger most of all. Eric sat on a stool two places down from the stranger's own seat.

“Why are you here?” The man in the white suit asked as he lifted his glass to his lips and took a long sip.

“My w-wife…” Eric stammered.

“Has been unfaithful.” The man finished when Eric couldn’t find the words.

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact. Eric didn’t know how the man knew his personal issues. Then again, Eric wasn’t sure how the man even knew his name.

The man’s crimson eyes peered at Eric with interest. “You want revenge?”

“No.” Eric shook his head.

As pitiful as his life was, that wasn’t the reason he was here.

“I’ve had three serious relationships in my life. Each has ended with my lover cheating on me. I’m sick of it! I’m tired of this treatment! No one deserves this sort of life!” Eric’s chest began heaving as his voice rose to a shout. “I’ve given everything! And they did nothing but take and take until I had nothing left!”

“No more.” Eric slammed his fist into the counter. 

The stranger held his glass loosely in his hand and gently swirled it in a lazy circle.

“But you said revenge is not what you’re after?” He raised an eyebrow at Eric.

Eric nodded and continued in a calmer tone. “I can’t fix what has been done and I’m not the type to derive pleasure from bringing pain or misfortune to others.”

Eric let out a long breath and met the stranger’s eyes directly. “I have a son.”

“Ah.”

The stranger’s confusion cleared in an instant.

“He's only three years old now but I don’t want him to ever experience what I had to go through.” Eric stated firmly.

“A selfless deal is it?” The stranger laughed and shook his head. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had one of those.”

Eric blinked. Either he was imagining things or the lights in the room had grown darker.

“So what is it you want for your son, hmm?” The man shook his arm a bit to expose a black watch.

“A guarantee he won't be cheated on?” He asked, amused as he inspected the time.

Eric swallowed. “In a manner of speaking. I want those who fall for him to have eyes for no one else. A pure and singular love that he rightfully deserves. That way he’ll be free to live happily with someone who can never and will never cheat on him.”

“Hmm.” The stranger reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out a cigarette.

Eric blinked, and the end was lit. There was no lighter, no open flame used. The cigarette was unlit and then it wasn't. All within a blink of an eye. The stranger took a long drag from the white stick and blew out a large cloud of smoke.

“I think I can make that happen.” His crimson eyes flashed back to Eric. “I’m surprised you didn’t try and include yourself in the deal. You don’t want custody of your son back?”

Eric coughed as the cloud of smoke reached his face. “Of course I do.”

His eyes began to water and not just from his reaction to the fumes.

“But I did some research before coming here.” He looked at the man in the white suit. “And everything told me that my request would mean I wouldn’t be leaving here tonight.”

The stranger threw his head back and laughed. At the same time, a soft metallic click sounded from the front of the bar. Eric turned, the man’s laughter still reverberating around the room to find the red door had shut on its own accord.

“I must say Eric.” The stranger spoke between fits of laughter. “This has been one of the most pleasant exchanges I’ve had in a long time. I’m in.”

He flicked his cigarette over the counter and offered Eric his hand.

“Do we have a deal?” The stranger’s crimson eyes blazed with anticipation.

Eric placed his shaking hand into the stranger’s own. There was no warmth. Eric’s hand felt like it was gripping a corpse.

“Yes.” Eric said quietly.

The stranger’s grip tightened and his smile twisted to one of pure sinister glee. Behind the counter, where the cigarette had been flung, a fire burst to life. Eric pulled back but was held in place by the firm grip of the stranger before him. The fire spread rapidly across the wall, consuming the flammable alcohol as the bottles on the shelves began to burst. The red flames spread faster than Eric thought possible. Eric sat in horror as the room around him was engulfed in flames. The warmth in his hand began to seep away, as if stolen by the being that kept him there.

The wicked smile remained, Eric’s last sight before he succumbed to the flames. 

“A pleasure doing business with you Eric.”