Persona - A Disturbing Psychological Thriller Read Free Page B

the residents’ gym, which meant he could use the equipment when he pleased. So he felt perplexed when he heard someone bang on the door after he’d locked it and had begun to walk to the shower room. He turned around and through the glass panels could see a tall, skinny, ginger-haired man staring at him. Ryan returned to the door and unlocked it.
    ‘Thank fuck for that! Didn’t fancy spending the night in there!’
    Ginger Man had slightly dark stubble and a gaunt, pasty face. His voice was loud and merry and fiery blue eyes pierced Ryan’s. He was no oil painting. He winked at Ryan and then made his way along the corridor towards the showers.
    ‘I didn’t see you in there,’ Ryan called after him.
    Ginger Man didn’t acknowledge him. Ryan despised being ignored. Sometimes that was all it took to unleash the beast. He decided to give Ginger Man another chance to respond, but before he could repeat himself Ginger had turned the corner. What the fuck had he been doing? Ryan wondered. The treadmill sat centrally on the floor, and from there he’d had a full view of the door. Ginger had definitely not come in after him. Ryan ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. When he’d entered, the gym had been empty. Okay, he hadn’t searched every corner, but he would have noticed movement or heard sounds. He shrugged to himself and locked the door. So what? Who cares?
    When he entered the shower room, he found himself still intrigued to find out what Ginger had been doing. He noticed moisture on the white walls as he walked past the drying room, and, stepping into the shower area, he was surprised once more. Six chrome heads hung unoccupied, but one had just been used; soapy water was trickling along the channel by his feet. He felt the first pipe and retracted his hand briskly - it was scalding hot. He looked at the floor and then crouched down. Three pubic hairs floating on top of the suds...all ginger! What the fuck was Ginger all about? Then he laughed. What am I, he asked himself, a detective?
     
    The next time Ryan saw Ginger it was in a pub toilet. Stood at a cracked urinal clogged with fag-ends and chewing gum, Ryan habitually glanced to his left to compare length. ‘Fuck me, you were the guy in the gym!’
    Ginger smiled at him. ‘It’s that exciting, eh?’
    Ryan laughed. ‘No, but I was thinking you might be that Houdini geezer. I didn’t see you anywhere in the gym when I was training.’ He aimed his urine at the soggy fag butts, manoeuvring one of them around the raised plug guard to the back of the pile.
    ‘So what’s the big deal?’
    A question in this context would normally amount to fighting talk for Ryan, but Ginger wasn’t menacing. His tone was engaging and Ryan didn’t feel mocked. ‘You just appeared .’
    ‘Maybe I did.’
    ‘You had the quickest shower in the world!’
    ‘You timed me, lad?’
    Ryan frowned when he thought of his proof. ‘Well, no,’ he said, ‘but I walked straight there after I unlocked the door for you and you’d gone.’ He shook his dick. ‘There’s something strange about it,’ he added.
    ‘How d’you know I had a shower?’
    Beer had eased Ryan’s inhibitions. ‘Ginger pubes by the drain.’
    Ginger chuckled and then walked off.
    With his peripheral vision, Ryan watched him leave the bog. He never put his dick away! What a funny guy.

 
     
    5
     
    On Wednesday 29 August, Col was sitting in a posh restaurant built beside a nice stretch of the River Thames. He’d arranged a meal out with Stacey, which had proved very difficult. His persistence had almost disgusted him - he’d had to nearly beg the fat bitch. That was the way she wanted it played though. Virtually the first thing she’d said on the phone was that she regretted giving him her number, and after excusing his conduct as beer-induced, he’d had to assure her he would be more refined.
    Col burst into laughter at the thought of that sack of shit playing hard to get, and a couple on