Now you're punching
And you're kicking
And you're shouting at me
I'm relying on your common decency
So far it hasn't surfaced
But I'm sure it exists
It just takes a while
To travel from your head to your fist
Depeche Mode/People Are People
The inside of the store was old and dusty and unbelievably cramped. There were a few books scattered here and there but it was a pretty pathetic book store all in all. It made him very uncomfortable to be in there. "Hello, is anyone here?" he called out, really hoping no one would answer. He heard what he could only describe as the sound of a snake or lizard hiss in the darkness in front of him. A man walked toward him and stopped a few yards ahead of him. He was a big fellow, strong and muscular but no bigger or stronger than Phil. In fact, they were almost a carbon copy of each other in their build. An even match. Phil knew without a shadow of a doubt that this person was not the type to make small talk with, chat about how his stocks were doing, or anything that mundane. This guy meant business.
"Mr. Philip Hartmann, I presume?" he leered at him, hatred seering every word. "Yes, that's me… you may remember me from such films as "You Gotta Love the Living" or "Death: What a Concept!" he teased him. "Oh sorry, that's right… you have no sense of humor. You really should get out more often, Simon, you're looking a bit pale." Phil took a step closer to him and pointed at his face.
"You don't know who or what you are dealing with here Hartmann, do you?" Simon replied angrily, "You think this is a game? Well maybe it is, but it is one that I will win. Did you notice the rain?" Phil turned and, wiping the dirt from the glass, looked out of the window. The rain which was just a sprinkle earlier was now coming down in buckets. He turned back to Simon. "Your doing, I suppose?" he said to him, "Nice trick. Here, I can do one too." He pulled out a pack of cards from his pocket. "Pick a card, any card." Phil said, stretching them out to Simon. Simon knocked them out of his hand. "Ah, 52 pick-up, huh? Well, I am not cleaning up the mess you made." He looked around. "But then again, it kind of goes with the ambiance of the room. Tell me Simon, who does your decorating?"
Phil knew he was pushing him too far. But that was what he wanted to do. The only way to know the enemy fully is to know what he is capable of. He never thought he would need that kind of knowledge but Brynns actions taught him well. Simon looked as if he was going to explode in a rage. Oh, his looks didn't change, just the invisible sparks he was throwing off from his eyes that Phil was able to see. The temperature of the room had increased a good 10 degrees within the last few minutes. Phil loosened the collar of his shirt.
"Getting a bit warm, Philip?" Simon smiled evily. The room was getting hotter by the moment, another 5 degrees by Phil's calculations. About 90 degrees by now, he figured. The hotter it got, the more comfortable Simon looked. "Now Philip, I want you to listen to me and listen well." he began, "The woman you call Jan is mine. I have made her mine and she doesn't even know you anymore." Phil was finding it hard to focus the hotter it got. But he heard him mention Jan and that was enough to bring him back to his senses. "Jan? Jan is here? She can't be, she's not dead!" he said, the shock showing on his face. "Oh yes she is, dear Philip, in fact she died in a lot of pain. The pain medication didn't help a bit, and she prayed for death to take her for the weeks she spent in such excruciating agony. And then, when the moment of her death came, it came with her crying out for you but you weren't there for her. Pity."
Simon laughed out loud. Phil was angry, sad, despondent and confused all at the same time. "You're lying! You bastard, you are LYING!" Phil stepped closer to him, any fear he might have had now gone. "No, not at all," Simon smiled. "Want to hear some more fun stuff, Mr. Comedian?" Phil's hands were balled into fists and he was hotter than the room now which he figured was up to 110 degrees. Simon had turned the tables on him, and was now the one in control. "We are lovers, Jan and I. She is one fine piece of ass, but I guess you know that, don't you? She likes it hard, too, which is fine with me. And she sucks cock like no ones business. Yep, she's quite a find. And the juiciest, most delicious cunt I have ever…" he didn't finish the sentence because Phil hauled off and hit him square on the jaw. Simon didn't move, didn't even flinch. Just smiled at Phil and kept up the onslaught. "I have ever had the pleasure of tasting. She begs me for it, Phil old boy, she pleads with me to fuck her. In fact, that table right there was where I had her just a few hours ago. Can't you sense it Philip, can't you see her there?"
Phil glanced at the table and then wished he hadn't fallen for his trick. Jan was there lying on it, and this beast had his hands on her body and his cock in her mouth.
"Heat getting to you, Phil? Makes you see things when it gets too hot, you know." Simon whispered into Phil's ear. Phil, unable to control himself anymore lunged at Simon and slammed into him knocking him momentarily off balance. It wasn't much, but it was something. "So you are not as invincible as you think you are?" Phil spat in his face.
"Don't you touch her again, do you hear me? Don't you ever touch her again or I'll…"
"You'll what, kill me?" Simon eye-to-eye with him said, "Please Phil, you know you really are a funny little man." The room was beyond hot now, some of the books had burst into flames. "150 degrees, Phil, you're getting quite a tan there." Simon grabbed Phil by the neck and threw him across the room. Walking over to him, he lifted him up, pressed him into the wall and held him there while the room burned.
"Now you listen to me you dumb asshole, I will say this just once more and you'd better get it this time." Simon himself seemed to be made of fire now, and the fire was speaking. "She is mine, she has forgotten you, you are nothing to her, you let her down and she hates you now. She loves me. And that love will get me what I want and need from her." He paused, making sure Phil understood just what he meant.
"Her soul." Phil said, finally putting it all together. "You want her soul." "Very good, very very good." Simon opened the front door, "So go on your merry way and forget her because she has already forgotten you."
And with that he threw him down the front steps and slammed the door behind him.