She gave a quick knock and slipped into his office. He was wrapping up some old-fashioned paperwork.
"Hi~," she almost sang as she entered.
"Oh, hi, sweetie," he replied, and looked at his monitor. He gathered his papers and bent behind the desk, to file them into the lower drawer, as he said, "Sorry, normally Paul sends me a message when you're on your way up."
"I happened to catch Brian on his way back in," she began.
He shot up like a bolt, just as Brian put the knife to her throat.
"Away from the desk," Brian ordered, "Hands where I can see them. We're going to do this slowly, so that there's no funny business. Grab your monitor by the top and face it this way."
"Brian, look at me," he said. They saw each other, eye-to-eye, and that was all that he needed. The room seemed to darken as a feeling of dread swept over everyone present. But especially Brian. Most especially Brian.
The feeling lifted, but Brian inexplicably threw the knife away, which slid under the couch. He bolted for the door, but recoiled. She went to her husband and clung to him. He held his wife, to reassure her.
"W-What's going--" Brian began.
"Your fillings," came the simple reply.
Eyes visibly widened with dawning terror, the would-be assassin grabbed at the insides of his own mouth with his hands, which muffled his emerging screams.
"Honey," she said, trembling, seeming to look over her shoulder, but with her eyes closed, "what just happened?"
"Brian was let go this morning. I'm sorry, sweetie. In the future, I'll see to it that terminated employees are escorted off of the premises, not just out of the building."
"No, I mean... What did you do to him? How?"
"Well," he began, somewhat awkwardly, still trying to comfort her despite the scene mere feet from them "you remember how you married me for my intelligence, right? Well, I realized that, usually, when people are said to sell their soul, it's just a metaphor for the loss of one's soul, when one profoundly compromises one's ethics. So, it's not exactly like a financial exchange. But, since I was going to take to your religion, I was going to make such a compromise. To minimize my loss, I sold my soul beforehand, to get this power. As for Brian, I made him deathly afraid of metal."
"You... You... sold your soul?" she asked in disbelief, despite ostensibly believing in the existence of souls and the ability to ... lose them? She wasn't sure anymore.
"Of course, sweetie," he replied, still holding her, "I'd do anything for you."
And her trembling only worsened.