(no subject)
Double Vision
Heroes | Sylar/Sylar
R | 1325 words
The back of Bennett’s fist connected with Sylar’s jaw, sending his head back violently. He laughed, spitting out a trail of blood as Bennett withdrew his hand. They had been at this for hours; a punch and a kick followed by a coughing fit of blood and giggles. Sylar didn’t know why he found this situation amusing; he just did.
Maybe it was the room he was in. The cream colored walls with crisp white molding looked like they belonged in some high-end hotel. It was a far cry from the metal plated cage they kept him in while his captor was part of the Company.
Sylar hung his head, closing his eyes as he replayed the actions that led to this untimely event. He remembered showing up at Suresh’s door, Maya in tow. By some freak circumstance, he had managed to survive being in close proximity to her even though he had killed her brother right under her nose.
He smiled, remembering the look on Mohinder’s face when the door opened, his expression full of shock and fear. Tilting his head nonchalantly behind Maya, he had watched the professor stumble back; fumbling with the door as beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.
But he hadn’t expected anything else. How do you react to someone who was supposed to be dead?
The girl had been completely clueless to the history they had. Her huge doe eyes watching as she saw her perfect little angel shift in a matter of minutes. It was only until he had been successfully subdued by a surprise guest that he had realized just how useful his powers really were.
“Had enough yet?” the man’s reply pulled Sylar back to reality. Lifting his head up, his dark chestnut eyes locked with Bennett’s as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting the liquid iron draining freely. He braced himself, grasping the ropes that were bound around his wrists as he watched Bennett pull back his arm.
The door opened almost immediately before he was ready to send his fist into the killer’s face and he halted, turning his head to the mind reader standing in the doorframe. Matt glanced at Sylar for a second before returning his gaze to Bennett, a grim expression on his face.
Sylar’s muscles visibly relaxed upon the two leaving the room, the sound of the door slamming shut ringing in his ears. He sighed heavily, slumping his body forward in the chair as he focused his attention on the hardwood floor at his feet. He remained in that fixed position for hours, each passing increment feeling like a decade on his psyche.
“It’s pathetic that you think by creating me, you’ll keep your sanity.”
The disruption caused Sylar to lift his head, his eyes meeting the complete mirrored image of himself. He darted his gaze to the door behind him, curious if this was some sort of test as he glared at the reflection, his voice hushed “I killed you.”
A smile spread across the allusion’s face, amused by Sylar’s statement. “Who? Candice? Michelle?” he said, raising an eyebrow before chuckling, “She’s dead, yes… but me?” The twin tilted his head slightly, “I’m as real as you.”
His comment caught Sylar off guard, his eyes scanning the visitor until he saw his head shake from side to side. The smile never left his face, but the meaning behind it changed. The man knew what Sylar was thinking and he was only happy to have crushed the twinge of hope rising in the killer’s mind.
“Don’t get too excited.” He said, his face contorted in a cold sneer as he stepped forward, circling around the back of the chair. The young man paused, “Although, you’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, muffling a laugh at the thought, “getting your abilities back?”
Sylar didn’t respond, letting the doppelganger revel in his fun. Instead he opted for a concentrated gaze on the door across the room while he slowly twisted his wrists behind him. It wasn’t until his head was pulled back violently that he realized even illusions didn’t like to be ignored.
The edges of his dark hair were snatched between his fingers as Sylar looked up into a pair of identical eyes. He swallowed hard, the gaze unnervingly fixed on his black pupils.
“Who are you?” he demanded quietly, narrowing his eyes as he watched him pull away. A reticent laugh echoed in his ears as the reflection moved around him, returning back to his original position in the center of the room. “I told you,” he said, giving him a playful raise of his eyebrow, “I’m you.”
The duplicate moved forward, his steps clicking slowly against the wood as Sylar wrenched his wrist against the ropes. He struggled; ignoring his presence until moments later when he found the man kneeling in front of him, his palms resting flat against his thighs.
He jumped in shock at the fleeting second of lust as the hands moved upwards. The smile returned; his approval of the startled reaction he had just received. Sylar’s breathing began to quicken as his mirrored image pushed forward on his knees, two pairs of dark eyes leveling off. Their locked gaze let slip the man’s intentions as he watched the space between them grow smaller.
Sylar panicked, jerking his head back as he slammed his forehead into the allusions face. A deep laugh echoed as the reflection regained his balance, lifting his head up as he showed a bloody smile.
The red liquid looked strangely inviting and Sylar had to bit the inside of his cheek to keep from assaulting the open cut with his tongue. He didn’t have to keep up with the charade much longer as he noticed the exact same flicker of lust in the eyes staring at him.
Trying desperately to calm the rapid beat of his heart, Sylar felt an awkward constriction of fabric as the hands moved closer, the sadistic smile returning. His eyes widened when he lunged forward, their blood stained lips melding into a deep, hungry kiss. A persistent tongue pushed pass his lips, forcing its way to the back of his throat as Sylar chocked in response.
He felt the vibrations of another bitter laugh against his skin, the tongue withdrawing as his bottom lip was draw between the edges of teeth. An uneven mesh of jagged breaths and fluttering heartbeats filled the air of the small room. Sylar closed his mouth and pulled back upon the illusion’s release of his lip, tasting the metallic sting of blood in the back of his throat.
His hips bucked when the hands moved again, sliding closer to his embarrassing ache. The fingers stopped as the man turned his head towards the door behind him, tilting his head. Sylar saw his shoulders drop as he sighed, bringing his attention back on him. The illusion leaned forward, stopping just millimeters away from his lips; leaving the killer craving another taste.
All he received was a cold laugh that caused his muscles to shudder but he regained control, straining his neck as he crashed his mouth against his.
A hard slap to the head brought him back to the waking world, Sylar’s eyes shocked open as his found Bennett standing in the room a few feet away. The slight eyebrow raise above horn-rimmed glasses made him realize just how raced his breathing was as he felt the distinct moisture of sweat on his skin. He frantically scanned his eyes around the room, finding them to be the only occupants as Bennett gave him an indescribable look that actually made him nervous of its meaning.
“I came in here to tell you that you were going to get a little break,” he paused, dropping his gaze down to the killer’s lower body, “but it seems like you’ve already taken advantage of it.”
Heroes | Sylar/Sylar
R | 1325 words
The back of Bennett’s fist connected with Sylar’s jaw, sending his head back violently. He laughed, spitting out a trail of blood as Bennett withdrew his hand. They had been at this for hours; a punch and a kick followed by a coughing fit of blood and giggles. Sylar didn’t know why he found this situation amusing; he just did.
Maybe it was the room he was in. The cream colored walls with crisp white molding looked like they belonged in some high-end hotel. It was a far cry from the metal plated cage they kept him in while his captor was part of the Company.
Sylar hung his head, closing his eyes as he replayed the actions that led to this untimely event. He remembered showing up at Suresh’s door, Maya in tow. By some freak circumstance, he had managed to survive being in close proximity to her even though he had killed her brother right under her nose.
He smiled, remembering the look on Mohinder’s face when the door opened, his expression full of shock and fear. Tilting his head nonchalantly behind Maya, he had watched the professor stumble back; fumbling with the door as beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.
But he hadn’t expected anything else. How do you react to someone who was supposed to be dead?
The girl had been completely clueless to the history they had. Her huge doe eyes watching as she saw her perfect little angel shift in a matter of minutes. It was only until he had been successfully subdued by a surprise guest that he had realized just how useful his powers really were.
“Had enough yet?” the man’s reply pulled Sylar back to reality. Lifting his head up, his dark chestnut eyes locked with Bennett’s as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting the liquid iron draining freely. He braced himself, grasping the ropes that were bound around his wrists as he watched Bennett pull back his arm.
The door opened almost immediately before he was ready to send his fist into the killer’s face and he halted, turning his head to the mind reader standing in the doorframe. Matt glanced at Sylar for a second before returning his gaze to Bennett, a grim expression on his face.
Sylar’s muscles visibly relaxed upon the two leaving the room, the sound of the door slamming shut ringing in his ears. He sighed heavily, slumping his body forward in the chair as he focused his attention on the hardwood floor at his feet. He remained in that fixed position for hours, each passing increment feeling like a decade on his psyche.
“It’s pathetic that you think by creating me, you’ll keep your sanity.”
The disruption caused Sylar to lift his head, his eyes meeting the complete mirrored image of himself. He darted his gaze to the door behind him, curious if this was some sort of test as he glared at the reflection, his voice hushed “I killed you.”
A smile spread across the allusion’s face, amused by Sylar’s statement. “Who? Candice? Michelle?” he said, raising an eyebrow before chuckling, “She’s dead, yes… but me?” The twin tilted his head slightly, “I’m as real as you.”
His comment caught Sylar off guard, his eyes scanning the visitor until he saw his head shake from side to side. The smile never left his face, but the meaning behind it changed. The man knew what Sylar was thinking and he was only happy to have crushed the twinge of hope rising in the killer’s mind.
“Don’t get too excited.” He said, his face contorted in a cold sneer as he stepped forward, circling around the back of the chair. The young man paused, “Although, you’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, muffling a laugh at the thought, “getting your abilities back?”
Sylar didn’t respond, letting the doppelganger revel in his fun. Instead he opted for a concentrated gaze on the door across the room while he slowly twisted his wrists behind him. It wasn’t until his head was pulled back violently that he realized even illusions didn’t like to be ignored.
The edges of his dark hair were snatched between his fingers as Sylar looked up into a pair of identical eyes. He swallowed hard, the gaze unnervingly fixed on his black pupils.
“Who are you?” he demanded quietly, narrowing his eyes as he watched him pull away. A reticent laugh echoed in his ears as the reflection moved around him, returning back to his original position in the center of the room. “I told you,” he said, giving him a playful raise of his eyebrow, “I’m you.”
The duplicate moved forward, his steps clicking slowly against the wood as Sylar wrenched his wrist against the ropes. He struggled; ignoring his presence until moments later when he found the man kneeling in front of him, his palms resting flat against his thighs.
He jumped in shock at the fleeting second of lust as the hands moved upwards. The smile returned; his approval of the startled reaction he had just received. Sylar’s breathing began to quicken as his mirrored image pushed forward on his knees, two pairs of dark eyes leveling off. Their locked gaze let slip the man’s intentions as he watched the space between them grow smaller.
Sylar panicked, jerking his head back as he slammed his forehead into the allusions face. A deep laugh echoed as the reflection regained his balance, lifting his head up as he showed a bloody smile.
The red liquid looked strangely inviting and Sylar had to bit the inside of his cheek to keep from assaulting the open cut with his tongue. He didn’t have to keep up with the charade much longer as he noticed the exact same flicker of lust in the eyes staring at him.
Trying desperately to calm the rapid beat of his heart, Sylar felt an awkward constriction of fabric as the hands moved closer, the sadistic smile returning. His eyes widened when he lunged forward, their blood stained lips melding into a deep, hungry kiss. A persistent tongue pushed pass his lips, forcing its way to the back of his throat as Sylar chocked in response.
He felt the vibrations of another bitter laugh against his skin, the tongue withdrawing as his bottom lip was draw between the edges of teeth. An uneven mesh of jagged breaths and fluttering heartbeats filled the air of the small room. Sylar closed his mouth and pulled back upon the illusion’s release of his lip, tasting the metallic sting of blood in the back of his throat.
His hips bucked when the hands moved again, sliding closer to his embarrassing ache. The fingers stopped as the man turned his head towards the door behind him, tilting his head. Sylar saw his shoulders drop as he sighed, bringing his attention back on him. The illusion leaned forward, stopping just millimeters away from his lips; leaving the killer craving another taste.
All he received was a cold laugh that caused his muscles to shudder but he regained control, straining his neck as he crashed his mouth against his.
A hard slap to the head brought him back to the waking world, Sylar’s eyes shocked open as his found Bennett standing in the room a few feet away. The slight eyebrow raise above horn-rimmed glasses made him realize just how raced his breathing was as he felt the distinct moisture of sweat on his skin. He frantically scanned his eyes around the room, finding them to be the only occupants as Bennett gave him an indescribable look that actually made him nervous of its meaning.
“I came in here to tell you that you were going to get a little break,” he paused, dropping his gaze down to the killer’s lower body, “but it seems like you’ve already taken advantage of it.”