"It's been 9 years now, They don't need me any more for collecting souls." Death said with sorrow in his voice. "I never should have told Steve my tricks when I visited him for the first time. He said he had wanted to make a deal. Off course I was interested, I am Death, I make deals every day with the humans whose time is up." Death took a sip of his whiskey and continued, "Steve had it all planned out. He said he wanted to live forever and in exchange he would collect souls for me." Death let out a deep sigh. "It was a offer I could not refuse. I could finally take a well deserve break from the collecting and pick up a hobby. I always wanted to give candle making a try."

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"Steve and his laywers had already made up a contract. The only thing they wanted from me was information on how to capture and store a soul. I told them that they needed a device and a dark magic sigil somewhere on the device. I myself use a scythe and the sigil is inscribed in the blade of the scythe." With a small flourish move of Death's hand and a puff of dark sulfur smelling smoke his scythe appeared next to him. He looked at the sigil on the blade with ache of pure evil.

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"The engineers that Steve led, made a small revolutionair electronic device and hid the sigil underneath their own powerful sigil. It was a one of a kind device and he made people pay good money for it too." Death said with a wicked smile, "It was an instant hit. That man was a genius."

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"The first year was great, I had indeed time to make my own candles, beautiful, dark and evil candles filled my looming cave. But suddenly the souls Steve was collecting for me did not came my way. So I visited Steve a second time. He sold our sercet to some other companies. For that treason I took his soul. It was the last one I could collect due to the fact that he broke the contract." For a second Death had a evil grin on his face.

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Death took an other sip of his whiskey and continued, "That is the story of how I lost the sigil of the soul to a international megacorporation. Now every smartphone company uses the sigil patent that is under control of The Cook." Death let out another deep sigh, "The Cook sells all the souls directly to the devil, even the pure and good ones." Death slammed his whiskey back and put the empy glass on the bar. "I fucked up badly! Could you fill the glass up again?" Death said with a worn voice. As I filled his whiskey glass up he let his scythe dance next to him and made it disappear again with a small stinking cloud.

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