Delete-Man: A Psychological Thriller by Johnny Vineaux Page B

on.
    I began to work out, and felt
the deterioration in my fitness over the past week immediately. I
pushed myself harder than usual to compensate, but my knee stopped
me from gaining any sense of completion. I tried putting some
pressure on it, but the pain was immediate, and I avoided doing
anything to further aggravate it. I pushed and pulled and lifted
and held until my body was incapable of doing anything more.
Through the tiredness and heat I felt better than I had done in a
long time. I stepped into the shower and stayed there for what felt
like hours.
    I dried off and put some clean
clothes on. I settled down again in front of the notepad. Then
there was a knock at the door.

Chapter 9
    I checked the time—it was nearly
midday. As I walked to the door (pleased to notice the pain in my
knee was somewhat soothed, and my limp was fading), I tried to
think of who would visit me at that time. I hoped it wasn’t
Monika.
    I opened the door to a tall,
imposing man with meticulously trimmed stubble and an expensive
haircut. He wore a nice suit informally and stood with the gait and
the grin of a salesman or a girl hound.
    “Joseph?”
    “Yeah.”
    He offered his right hand; I
offered my left.
    “Oh, of course. I forgot, how
rude of me.”
    “Who are you?”
    “You don’t remember me?”
    I looked at him. Just before his
name sprung to mind he told me.
    “Sebastien Baird. I’m
Josephine’s brother.”
    “Right. I remember.”
    “We’ve met once before at her
birthday party.”
    “Yeah, I remember.”
    “So…”
    “So, what?”
    “Are you in the middle of
something?”
    “Yeah.”
    “I see. Actually I’m here
because I wanted to discuss something with you. It’s fairly
important.”
    “Guess you want to come in
then.”
    “It would help. Yes.”
    I reluctantly moved aside and
gestured him in towards the living room. He gazed at the couch for
a few seconds before sitting on it, then proceeded to scan the
living room thoroughly.
    “Oh yes, I forgot. You have a
baby, don’t you?”
    “No, I just like finger painting
and dolls.”
    “Ha! Funny.”
    “Do you want a beer?”
    “It’s fairly early to be
drinking, don’t you think? Is that all you have, I suppose you
don’t have any juice?”
    “I’ve got plenty of juice.”
    I poured out a couple of glasses
and handed one to him before sitting across from him on a chair. He
held the glass with the pads of his fingers, as if it was dirty,
and after a small sip put it down on the table softly. He
smiled.
    “So, Joseph, how are you?”
    “I’m doing brilliant.”
    “I sense a little sarcasm there.
I meant, how are you coping with regards to Josephine’s
passing?”
    “What do you think?”
    “I don’t know, hence why I ask.
Have you come to terms with it?”
    “Is that what you came here to
ask?”
    “I’m sensing some animosity
towards me, Joseph. I just want to assure you I don’t bear you any
ill-will.”
    “Yeah, you’re right. I’m being
unfair. I’ll wait until you get to the point before I start hating
you then.”
    “Ha! Come now, Joseph. Don’t be
a prickly pear!”
    “Prickly pear? No wonder I
forgot you.”
    “Ha! Very good. May I use your
bathroom?”
    “It’s that door on the right of
the entrance.”
    “Wonderful.”
    He left for the bathroom and I
put the notes I had taken in the morning away, in case he would see
them. I got the impression he wasn’t respectful enough to ignore
them. He came out of the bathroom brushing himself off as if he had
walked through a dust cloud, and sat down with the same tentative
nature he had done previously. Every gesture he made was imbued
with a sly sense of superior disgust.
    “Is your baby asleep?”
    “Ok, look. Firstly, she’s not my
daughter, she’s my little sister. Secondly, she’s not a baby, she’s
ten. Thirdly, she’s in school, otherwise you would still be
standing at the door. And lastly, don’t mention her again, for your
sake as well as mine, because you’re