[ WP ] Your coworker is completely convinced you are a superhero . She stalks you like the worst fan girl ever . The only problem is you 're not a hero - you 're a villain . And she 's really starting to get in the way of your work .

It seems that I have a problem. I wish that I could say that it was something as arbitrary as I ’ ve gotten fat, lost my apartment or my job, or even been diagnosed with cancer. If it were something so simple I would be elated, but it ’ s not, it ’ s a hell of a lot worse. 
 
 I have been a very successful, yet underpaid and underappreciated, secretary for quite some time now. One of the perks of this job is all of the mind numbing errands that I have to run. It allows me to leave the office quite frequently. If I happen to take a little longer, or even leave to run a fictitious errand no one seems to notice these things. It ’ s wonderful, I have things to do. Well, I thought no one was noticing these extra outings for my extracurricular activities. 
 On my usual stop in the break room to pour myself a much-needed cup of the miracle of life, in walks in my unremarkable coworker Lettie. As I ’ m savoring the first sip of my coffee, my eyes are closed to allow its full affect to properly sink in. That ’ s when I hear this conspiratorial little whisper, “ I know what you are. ” 
 My eyes fly open after that statement because I know Lettie and I are the only two people to be in this break room. Even though my heart is pounding in my chest, and I ’ ve by passed the beading of sweat to a straight on pool of it on my back. I shrug with carefully calculated amount of nonchalance, and with a surprisingly steady voice say, “ Thanks, Lettie, I ’ m really glad someone around here notices what a kick ass secretary I am! ” 
 
 Lettie sniffs, as she rolls her eyes. She steps closer and lowers her voice further talking slowly like she might scare me off. “ No, not that. I know what you really are. The real reason why it takes so long to… ” 
 “ Run errands? ” 
 “ Exactly, that ’ s because… ” 
 “ The lines are so damn long and traffic is awful? ” 
 “ No! ” By this point Lettie is so close I can taste the tuna that she had for lunch. Her breath is coming out in little pants, and her eyes are taking on a glassy sheen. I feel this conversation heading from bad to worse, and I am using everything I can to derail it, but the damn train won ’ t tip over. 
 
 I am backed into a literal corner by the coffee pot and fridge, and she is angling her body to be as close to mine without ever touching. When in one of her funny little gasps of breaths she gets out, “ I know you ’ re a super hero, dammit! ” 
 That ’ s when I lose it. I let out a howl of laughter so loud, a few people poke their heads into the break room. They see our proximity, take in my gales of laughter, put two and two together, and high tail it out of there. Desperately trying to reign in this unusual outburst of mine, I manage to squeeze out, “ I am not. ” 
 I have never seen a human being turn such a vivid red before, but unremarkable Lettie turned out to be pretty damned remarkable at flushing in frustration. Huffing, she stomps out. Collecting myself I follow out a few minutes later. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Things are getting out of hand. I haven ’ t been able to get any work done thanks to being hounded by Lettie, and things are starting to escalate. In the first week or two it was just glares, and pointed looks. Week three I would get random emails, stating things like “ I KNOW! ” Please, if she really knew she wouldn ’ t be this obsessive. 
 Around the time of week four, I would see her around my favorite lunch places. She always acted like it was an accident that we bumped into each other, but it became obvious when it was an everyday occurrence. After a week of these so-called bump ins I decided it was time to talk. My nerves were wearing thin, and my plans were falling behind. Lunch hour was a big deal for me, I strongly believed in a working lunch. 
 
 I decided to lay in wait in the back of my go to vegan sub shop, I mean I have to have some morals, and sure enough in comes Lettie thinking she is the model of a stealthy spy. I watch her get in line, and poorly try to unobtrusively scan the shop. While her head is turned the other direction, I grab her arm yanking her toward the back exit. She yelps, and starts to dig in her heels, her trout mouth opening to scream. It takes her a moment to realize that it ’ s me and she swallows the screams, and walks willing into the alley. 
 
 She yanks her arm out of my hand, and starts rubbing at the sore spot. No, I wasn ’ t gentle. I am frustrated. She glares at me trying to arrange her face into what she thinks is a combination of angry and authoritative. I see behind that pathetic front. Her eyes have that glassy sheen again, her breathes are starting to pick up into little pants, and she slightly shifts her body towards mine. “ What do you want, ” she says while trying to sound annoyed. I hear the excitement however; she has been waiting for me to catch her. 
 
 “ Look Lettie, ” I say in soft tones while my hands are balled up in my pockets, I ’ m trying not to strangle her. “ You need to stop this. I don ’ t know what I ’ ve done, but I am not what you think I am. ” 
 
 I watch as her eyes take on a look of a wild desperate hope, her arm reaches towards me like I might be the one thing that can make everything better. This look does not cause a normal reaction within me, the one where you go to a person and try to comfort them. Instead I feel my nails gouging little crescent moons into the palms of my hands, the urge to strangle her has gotten stronger. 
 Standing in that dark and foul smelling alley way instead of going with my instinct, I watch as Lettie curl her arms around herself and a haunted look comes over her face. Fucking great. I ’ ve been plagued by this bitch for weeks, which puts me behind on my work, but now I have to listen to a pity story? Great, just fucking great. 
 I ’ m genuinely surprised when instead of getting the whole my family was slaughtered speech, I hear, “ I just want to help you, in any way I can. Please, I just need to be more than a fan I need to do something mean something. ” She curls further in on herself, and I watch the as the darkness of the alley swallows her up. 
 Gently I say, “ I ’ m just not who you think I am, ” as I walk past her. 
 
 
 **** 
 
 It took about a week or so for inspiration to hit, but I ’ m happy to say during that week Lettie was blissfully absent. I knew that it was just a temporary measure, so I was delighted when I figured out a solution to my problem. 
 I did some research on Lettie, which was easy, because I am a whiz when it comes to research. Lettie was a loner orphan, parents died tragically. You know, all the boring details that makes someone like her want to gravitate towards those do-gooder super heroes. If I was a super hero I would hold her, and comfort her and make rainbows and unicorns appear. I would give her cookies and avenge her parents and things like that. Luckily for me, and as I told her repeatedly, I am not a super hero. The benefits of her being an orphan loser are advantageous for quite another reason. 
 
 I planned, and triple checked to make sure that everything would be sail smoothly. After one mundane day at the office I pulled Lettie aside in the break room, when I knew no one would be around to use it. 
 Elated doesn ’ t even begin to describe this high that I was feeling. I played it off as nervousness, shifting from foot to foot, my eyes darting around. She picked up on the energy I was putting out, her eyes taking on their familiar glassiness. 
 “ I knew it, ” she said with a quite squeal and a little fist bump in the air. 
 “ I need you to help me. ” 
 “ I knew you would. ” 
 “ No, one could ever know. ” 
 “ I know that. ” 
 “ What I do is to important for anyone to find out about. ” 
 “ So I can ’ t leave any evidence of helping you? ” 
 “ Exactly. ” 
 “ What do you need me to do? ” 
 
 **** 
 
 I had her walk to my lab, doubling and tripling back to leave any cameras or potential witnesses confused. She left her purse and phone at home, her suggestion, not mine. She shows up out of breath and glowing with excitement at what she thinks is my secret lair. She is right. It is my secret lair, just not the kind that she is thinking of. 
 
 I let her in, and I watch her as she takes in the place. It ’ s brightly lit from the florescent lighting; the air is sharp with antiseptic. My excitement is building at the same rate that comprehension is dawning on her. She turns and stares at me in in horror, and my face is leering in anticipation. As she fills her lungs to scream the needle has already been injected into her neck, the anesthetic working fast. Lettie starts to fall, but I catch her. I don ’ t need my test subject damaged. 
 
 Lettie was slow to wake from the clutches of the drug, and even slower to put the pieces together of what was happening to her. 
 Now, she lays there on the table the straps cutting into her, tears streaming, she looks up at me begging silently. 
 “ What ’ s the matter Lettie, ” I said as I pat her cheek and move to fiddle with the tubing sticking out of her. My voice drops as a crouch next to her head and whisper in her ear, “ I thought you wanted to help me. That ’ s what you said, you said you were my fan and you would do anything. ” 
 
 I watch as Lettie struggles, her eyes growing wider as the horror is starting to fully set in. I love this part really, as the adrenaline kicks in, fight or flight, goes wild, and they are just stuck. I stroke Lettie ’ s hair, letting my fingers twist through her muddy brown strands. 
 
 “ Really I should be thanking you, if you hadn ’ t become so nosey, I wouldn ’ t have had this opportunity for this test phase, it ’ s really going to let me see the kinks before I put it to real use. I really never knew that having fans would be so handy. ” 
 Lettie screams are muffled through the cloth gag, and that wonderful shiny purple serum makes its way through the tubes and enters her body. I watch her body slowly start to shudder as it enters her blood stream, and finally she starts full on convulsions. I let out a sigh, and let a slow grin spread across my face. 
 
 I really like having fans. 

