10 Power Corrupts

"Should I tell Apollo that you're unwilling to comply? That you're against my decision?"

"Helga- "

"But then again, why would you agree with me, right, Sharon? After all, I'm just a team leader and you're the operational manager. You have every rights to defy me. You can even fire me." Helga's lips stretch into a sunken, impish grin. "But of course, Apollo is not as forgiving as I am. Your defiance might cost you trouble, Sharon. Big trouble. He might take it as an obvious act of disloyalty. You don't want to lose your job, do you? Right! Of course, you don't. I know you very well. I can see it in your eyes. So I suggest that you keep your opinion to your- " Helga glances over her shoulder, frowning.

Our eyes meet. My heart seems to freeze.

"Michael!" Helga points at the empty chair opposite her. "Have a seat, why don't you?"

"In other news, a murder spree-"

"Are you all right, Michael?"

Precious smiles at me, her left hand grasping the doorknob of the Training room.

"Maggie!"

"Helga!"

Helga is standing behind Maggie now: Maggie who is still snoring quite loudly in her station. Helga's face contorts with fury.

The monitor above Maggie flickers, the screen turning pitch black, though the AVR still blinks like a Terminator eye.

Maggie's lips twitch a little, as if she's trying to say something while in the middle of her sweetest dream. A thread of saliva is oozing down from the corner of her mouth to her chin.

"Maggie! Don't want to wake up, eh? Huh! Sure!" Helga half-runs her way to the closed door beside Sharon's desk with a large signage that says HELGA GANDALERA'S OFFICE. Bright light floods the green floor in long, rectangular shape, with her elongated shadow trailing after her.

Sharon frowns.

"Helga, don't even think about it."

"Oh, my God!" Precious touches her lips.

Helga is holding a megaphone in one hand.

"Helga, no."

"Zip it, Sharon. I meant it."

"Helga, please!"

Helga stops right beside Maggie, pressing the mouthpiece in her lips.

"Maggie!"

"Aaahhh!" Maggie's eyes flutter wide open, so swiftly I could have sworn I saw her eyes was still all white and dreaming their crazy dreams for a split-second. She shoots her head upward, so violently she almost topple from her seat. She looks around, seemingly trying to remember who and where she is, blinking and rubbing her eyes.

"Goodmorning, Maggie."

"H-Huh?" Maggie's eyes darts to and fro, her face still groggy and disoriented. She gingerly wipes her chin with the back of her hand.

"How's your sleep, Maggie?"

Maggie lifts her head.

"TL Helga?"

"I told you to turn off your PC, isn't it? And why are you sleeping in your station? Your head was pressing against the keyboard. Huh! If that device malfunctioned because of your saliva I will deduct it to your salary!"

Maggie's eyes flicker, face brightening.

"S-Salary, TL? Is the shift over?" Maggie's voice is hoarse and her nose is as red as Rudolph's. "Can we get our salary now?"

Helga glares at her.

"Excellent, Maggie! Answering my question with another question. Incredible!"

"I was just asking-"

"You only care about your salary, isn't it, Maggie? It doesn't concern you in any way whether this company gains profit or not!"

"T-That's not true. I-"

"Yes, it is!"

"No, it's not."

"It is!"

Tears stream down Maggie's cheeks. She looks so small, weak, and vulnerable. She grips the seam of her hijab and presses it tightly against her left cheek, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. "I swear to Allah. I'm really trying to set an appointment. Believe me."

"Don't try it. Just do it! But then again, how can you make a sale if you're so busy sleeping your ass off? Speak quickly!"

"I'm sorry about that, TL Helga. T-To tell you the truth, I'm not really feeling well. My throat feels strange. It makes me a bit sleepy and-"

"Is that so, Maggie?"

"Yes, TL Helga. I think I have a fever and-"

"Then you should have gone to the hospital, you stupid fool! Do this place looks like a hospital to you, Maggie? Do you see gurneys around here? Oxygen tanks? IV drops? Do I look like a nurse? Really, Maggie?" Helga's flaming eyes narrow even more. "Ah! Just admit it! You don't care about this company. Not at all. You just want to get paid. That's all you care about, isn't it, Maggie? Of course, money!"

"That's not true, please."

"So I'm a liar? Are you saying that I'm a liar, Maggie? Really?"

"No, please, it's not what I-"

"Liar!"

"Helga, please, stop it. This is very uncalled for." Sharon lifts her hand and holds out a cup of steaming coffee. "Here. Have some cup of-"

"Shut your cake-hole, Sharon. Just zip it already!"

"I deeply care for this company. I really do." Maggie drops her gaze onto floor, sniffing and sobbing, defeated.

"Deeply care?" Helga scoffs. "Wow! Big words, Maggie. Big words. Really? That's news. You can't even follow simple rules. I already told you countless times not to wear your silly hijab. But what? You're still wearing it. All of us should be in Halloween attire tonight. It's a must. But still you're wearing your hijab and your cringy black dress. Always with that stupid outfit. Pathetic! What is it, anyway? A trash bag or something?"

"I'm so sorry, TL Helga. I-"

"Silly muslim! I should fire you for this."

"Please. I'm really not feeling well and I'm truly sorry if-"

"I don't care what you feel!"

"TL Helga, I think that's enough," Romeo interrupts, his voice grave and cold. Other agents are peering from the door, their eyes almost glowing green in the semi-darkness of the Training room. "It's Maggie's fifteenth birthday today."

"So what!"

"Please, it's my birthday today."

"Oh, sweety, I don't care."

"Helga! Stop it this instance."

Helga glares at Sharon.

"Are you blind? Maggie's not following the rules! I was just letting this muslim girl a while ago with her obvious rebellion but there's limit to how much I can take! She's abusing my kindness!"

"It's all right, Helga. I let her wear her casual clothing. She's exempted."

"Exempted?"

"Yes, she is. As for the hijab, she has my full permission to wear it. I see nothing wrong with that. There will be no discrimination here in our company, Helga. Especially to the newbies. We are family here. We are free styles here unless we're conducting an event. So please, leave Maggie's religion alone. Anyone can work in here regardless of their beliefs, religion, nationali-"

"And who the hell gave you permission to-"

"I'm still the OM, Helga." Sharon's voice is unsteady and almost cracking, as if she's about to burst out crying but of course, I know better. She's trying to control her anger. She was a short-tempered girl but not anymore. She's a very different person now. Sharon already had learned to control her temper. And as morbid as it may sound, some malevolent part of me desperately hopes, wishes that Sharon's long thread of patience might somehow twist and snap just this once, just to teach Helga a lesson. After all, San Pablo City has so many call centers that would be more than glad to have her on their team.

"How dare you talk to me like that, Sharon, you fool."

"I'm sorry, Helga, but by definition, I ought to have the last say. I'm just doing my job. And that job is to manage our whole operation. That's what I'm being paid for."

"Like you said, we have an event today, Sharon, and still you let Maggie-"

"And like I also said, Helga, Maggie's exempted. Her family is very traditional. Even if Maggie wants to participate, we all know she can't. Her religion won't allow her. As an OM, I understand. And I hope you-"

"Oh, just shut your cake-hole already, Sharon. You always talk a lot. Always with your blah blah blah. Zip it!"

"Helga-"

"This is the main reason why Catacutan Contact Solution's on the brink of bankruptcy, Sharon, you fool. It's all your fault. So fond of accepting incompetent applicants, aren't you? Huh! If not a hideous vampire and a smart-ass atheist, a terrorist! A terrorist!" She glowers at Maggie, who is still sniffing and whimpering uncontrollably on her seat. Maggie's eyes, wet with tears, peer just above her hijab, confused as well as frightened. "Oh, how I hate terrorist!"

Helga looks over her shoulder. Our eyes meet. Her penetrating stare is more than enough to convey her message; she despises me and I have no idea why. And that's the worst and scariest part: When you're trying to be a good person, minding your own business, only wishing to have a peaceful day, trying not to be a pain in the neck to somebody let alone be a burden. And still, for some unknown reasons, someone out there still have the guts to hate and make you feel bad to yourself.

This is really a crazy planet, hopelessly infested by crazy people doing crazy things. Perhaps Helga really hates terrorist. Maybe she considers a vampire as one. If so, then she has nothing to be scared of. She can stop being paranoid. I may look like a vampire but I am not a bloodsucker one. And no vampire will ever dare reach for her neck to suck and drink her blood.

That will be a sheer madness. It will be an obvious act of suicide.

Helga is toxic, after all.