Once I had his name, it was so easy. I found his apartment, and sabotage began. I waited until he was out of the hospital, so he would notice, so it would annoy him. Little things, things that hardly mattered. I like to start out that way. Hardly causing an inconvenience. His tires kept going flat, for no particular reason. No punctures, the air was just gone. I pumped it out. And I watched him when he found that. He scratched his head the first time, and called a girl to give him a lift. He filled them up again, and Voila. Repeat. It drove him mad, I could tell just from seeing his face when he would see the tires. His responses ranged from the head-scratching, to kicking the tires and screaming in frustration, to just sighing quietly and going to get a hand-pump.
When he was gone during the day, I sabotaged his life inside the apartment that he occupied. Childish pranks. I slipped dried worms in with the spaghetti. I watered down the milk. I sabotaged his plumbing (The sewage was funny). I emptied out the mouthwash, and replaced it with white vinegear. I cut the toes out of most of his socks. I hung toilet paper all around his house, making it impossible to get in, etc. etc. etc. I had more fun then than I'd had in my entire life. Revenge was sweet. Eventually, he installed tripwires, and burglar alarms, and all sorts of inconveniences. But I was trained to track down alien technology. I could disable a solar-powered Judoon particle gun in thirty seconds. A burglar alarm was so easy. It was laughable.
"I'm telling you, it's a poltergeist," Owen said.
"And I'm telling you, it's not," Gwen replied.
"Well what else can it be? I've installed all kinds of security things, and none of them work. They all stay in perfect condition, and none of them ever go off, and yet this stuff still goes on. The camera's don't pick anything up. The place stays the same twenty-four/seven,"
She stared at him skeptically. "Have you tried staying up and watching for it?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yeah, on saturday leave, I stayed up. I didn't sleep, I just watched," he said.
"Oh, that's why you looked so tired sunday," she said, giggling.
He glared at her. "It's not funny, it's killing me."
She managed to stop laughing. "Fine, we can probably get Jack to let us take some equipment to scan for stuff like that," she said.
"Thank you," he said.
It was evil, I know it was. But I couldn't resist. I moved into the apartment just down the hall from his. So, I just happened to see the oddest sight. My good friend Mr. Harper and his lady, Gwen Cooper her name was, hauling a load of obviously alien technology into his apartment. They came out a few hours later, packed the stuff up, and left. I sat, and I thought. What was an idiot like Owen Harper doing with alien technology. So I did the obvious thing. I spied on him. Previously, I had just been causing him trouble. I hadn't tried to learn more about him. Now, I got interested in the life he led outside of his apartment.
I followed him everywhere. And I immediately found something. He went into a building, every day. It was by the water, and I couldn't figure out what it was. So I did the brave thing. I went in.
The door was locked, so I fished a hairpin out of my hair, and promply unlocked it. Inside was a desk, with a computer and some papers on it. There was a door, leading out of the room, behind the desk. The room was empty. I walked behind the desk, peeking into the other room. There was a man making coffee inside. He turned, noticing me.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
I smiled. "Yes, I'm looking for Owen Harper?" I said.
His gaurd went up immediately. "I don't know anyone called Owen Harper," he said.
I stepped a little closer. "Well he comes in here every day. Pale guy, dark hair, wears jeans and a black jacket?" I said. Not my best description ever.
The man shook his head. "Nope, sorry, I don't know him," he said.
I smiled. "Thanks anyway," I said, turning to leave. I walked out of the building, and back to my car. I closed the door, making a decision. It was time to have a talk with Mr. Harper.
