(no subject)
Third and Eighth 1/?
Heroes | Sylar, Maya, Alejandro, Claire
PG16 - R | 1865 words
Authors Notes: Set in an AU, where the virus was released and Sylar had his powers but happened to still travel with the Dunder Twins. Bear with me if it doesn't make sense, it will as it progresses. Unbeta'd since I have had not one fiction ever beta'd in my life so any mistakes are my own.
○○○
He felt as if he were suffocating. Thick fluid drowning his lungs as chestnut eyes searched a voided abyss and weak limbs scavenged around the darkness. A flash of red exploded in his vision, a trail of distressing screams echoing against his deafened ears.
He stepped forward, nearly tripping as his foot remained planted to the ground and he righted himself. Doubling over, he clutched the fabric of his jeans; pulling fruitlessly as fingernails dug beneath denim to leave indented marks on his pale skin.
Another scream reverberated on his eardrums and he looked up, dark eyes locking on the faint form in front of him. The older woman looked as she was floating, inky blackness enveloping her body as shadows rolled across her face.
Tired eyes mirrored his personal demons as he saw his soul reflected in his mother’s dark pupils.
You’re damned.
He cringed hearing those words, pulling his gaze away as he shut his eyes, the woman’s voice continuing to repeat in his mind. Seconds later, a gasp tore from his throat and his eyes flew open.
Fingers ghosted over his ribcage, cold metal halting the quest as he curved the digits around the scissors protruding from his chest. He looked up, locking desperate eyes with the irresolute image in front of him until the blades rotated and plunged deeper.
He screamed, the action carrying over into the waking world as his body vehemently jerked awake. Finding fresh oxygen rushing to his lungs, he wrenched a palm to his forehead, the heavy beating of his heart reverberating in his ribcage as he pressed fingers against his closed eyes.
“You were mumbling in your sleep again…” a voice carried from across the room, the girl’s eyes diverting down as she plucked at the bed sheet.
Sylar dropped his hands, directing his gaze to the young woman sitting on the mattress, his eyes darting to her twin brother sleeping in the bed beside hers. Maya trailed a fingertip along the quilt, her voice hushed as a cough lightly racked her chest. She looked up to speak but halted when she found him looking at her face contently, his eyes drawn to her mouth.
Before she could ask questions, he blinked, his voice almost inaudible, “You’re bleeding.” The girl tilted her head, confusion etched in her eyes until a metallic tang of iron infused her taste buds.
A snake of tongue over red tinged lips and she panicked. Pulling a hand up, she dabbed an index finger into the tiny pool of blood dripped on her bottom lip. He stared at her as she switched her attention from skin to his face, her hand beginning to tremble as black clouded her eyes.
Tar seeped from her pupils as another set of coughs racked her chest and his eyes began to blacken. A desperate gasp tore from Sylar’s throat as he stumbled forward, his focus divided as blood drained onto motel bed sheets.
Maya grasped his arm, scratching frantically at his skin as he tried to keep her shaking limbs still, his breath coming out in ragged exhales.
”¿Qué sucede?”1
He snapped his head to the side, black eyes meeting pained brown as Alejandro collapsed at the side of the bed. Muffled screams echoed in his ears and he looked back at the girl, her body starting to convulse as inky eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell to the mattress.
Fresh oxygen rushed to his lungs as the black drained and he stared in horror at the blood splayed across white sheets. A cough pulled his attention from Maya’s prone form, dark eyes darting towards the twin as he tried to pull himself up from the ground. He dragged the back of his hand across his chin, red leaving glistening streaks across tanned skin.
Sylar planted a foot behind him, his eyebrows creased in confusion before his body was hit with a deafening force. Air ripped itself from his lungs as his muscles tensed and he choked on a thick layer of dust.
”¿Qué hace usted?”2 came a weak response, “Hágalo para.”3
A lamp fell to the ground and shattered, the aftershock wrenching a pair of palms over delicate ears before a collapse of limbs ended an onslaught of noises.
○○○
Brown eyes opened to a dark room, a moan exiting his lips as he pulled himself up slowly. He took a deep breath, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before attempting to move, a hand pressed firmly to his temple.
Rubbing his eyes, he stepped forward towards the wall as he felt around for the light switch. Bright light illuminated the motel room and he turned around, his body jerking back at the sight of the siblings’ motionless bodies.
His eyes scanned the floor, attention flitting from the large discs of red stained in the carpet as he lifted his gaze to Maya’s body. Dark red surrounded the young woman, her black eyes locked in an impenetrable gaze with the ceiling as her limbs lay in awkward positions at her side.
He stumbled forward, snatching the set of keys from the table as he rushed out the door, almost tripping over a body collapsed outside the motel room. Fumbling with the keys, he unlocked the car, entering on the driver’s side as he closed the door and threw open the glove compartment.
Sylar pulled the contents of the compartment out onto the floor of the SUV, scanning the papers littered on the seat as he pulled one up to his view. His eyes read the font scrawled on the registration papers, a smile tugging on his lips as he flung it back into the pile and shoved the key into the ignition.
He drove for thirty minutes, weaving between still traffic as he tried to keep his focus on the road and not on the bodies littering the sidewalk and street. Pulling the Rogue to the curb in front of a small two story house, he glanced out the window, finally opening the door as he exited the car and walked up to the front door.
Slipping the ring of keys into his coat pocket, he stood in front of the door, pulling a clenched fist up to knock on the wood. As his knuckles connected with the entry, a slow creak echoed in his ears as the door opened and he narrowed his eyes.
He stuffed both hands into his pockets, kicking his foot out to step over the threshold and into the Bennett home, maneuvering through the foyer and into the living room. As soon as he turned his head, the corner wall clearing from his view, he stopped.
Choked sobs danced on his eardrums as he tilted his head to the mess displayed on the floor. The bodies of Sandra Bennett, her son Lyle and the family dog lay in a bloody heap on the tile, a nest of blonde curls hiding the face of a frantic young girl.
Sylar let his fingers play with the keys in his pocket, the light jingle causing her to lift her head in his direction, despair ridden eyes turning alarmed in seconds. Although fear was overwhelming in her green eyes, a flicker of calm and peace crossed them as she hastily wiped the tears from her cheeks. Claire tucked tangled curls behind her ear, mumbling through breathless sobs, “I take it you’re here for me?”
He continued to remain silent; causing the young girl stumbled up, slipping on the slick tile as she moved towards the small table against the wall. He watched her movements as she fumbled with the drawer, awkwardly opening it as she tried to keep her emotions under control.
He pulled his gaze away just as his nerves sensed an oncoming action, a hand rising just as throat muscles clenched and a violent cough tore from his lungs. Pulling his arm back; his dark eyes observed red liquid moistening on his skin as he straightened up and ran a tongue along his bottom lip.
When he glanced back up, the girl had already closed the drawer, her hand curved around a small handgun. “You know that can’t do anything to me.” He remarked softly, his tongue running across his lips again. Claire mocked a laugh, rolling her eyes as she brought the gun up, digging the end of the barrel against her neck. “It’s not for you.”
“As much as I want you dead,” she replied bitterly, teeth clenched, “I would much rather wish this hell upon you.” She dug the barrel of the gun deeper against her skin when he attempted to move forward and he stopped.
“You take my ability and you live in this world forever,” Her green eyes were hard now, tears pricking the corners as she spat, “surrounded by death and disease and destruction…”
Blood stained lips parted as a maniacal grin crossed his angular face, the young girl scoffing at the silent reply, gripping the trigger. “Congratulations.” She voiced before a deafening shot rang throughout the house, the girl’s body falling to ground.
Sylar stared down at her still form, shock flitting across his features for a second before another cough racked his chest. His eyes kept a locked gaze on the bullet wound in her neck as he walked forward and knelt next to her body. As he brought a hand up, his throat began to close, lungs choking on the lack of air as the virus began to attack his system.
He doubled over, palms submerged in the girl’s blood as he gasped for oxygen. The distraction was enough to split his focus as he haphazardly sliced her skull open, blood splaying across his face.
Smearing a hand against his cheek, he closed his eyes, using his telekinesis to keep his throat muscles open. When fresh air began to fill his lungs, his dark eyes opened, tilting his view as he observed the unveiled brain in front of him.
○○○
He dragged the edge of the blade across his wrist, observing the pale skin split as dark red bloomed from the wound. The blood bubbled, trailing down the curve of his arm as the blunt edges reversed, his skin beginning to knit back together.
Lips parted in a smile as he dragged a bloodied palm over the healed wound, eyes lifting to notice the television across the room. He hadn’t noticed it before, his attention elsewhere as he maneuvered around the countertop island. Stepping over the bodies sprawled on the tile; he tuned his ears to the news channel.
A rush of white body suits flitted across the screen as bolded words scrawled along the bottom and his eyes narrowed at the location. The reporter was frantic; the string of quarantined locals rolling over her tongue into a mesh, but his hearing dissected the cities clearly, a few names catching his attention.
Sylar sighed, stuffing a hand into his coat pocket as he fingered the keys within, glancing over his shoulder absently as he headed for the door.
It seemed that he was heading for Odessa.
○○○
1; What's happening?
2; What are you doing?
3; Make it stop.
Heroes | Sylar, Maya, Alejandro, Claire
PG16 - R | 1865 words
Authors Notes: Set in an AU, where the virus was released and Sylar had his powers but happened to still travel with the Dunder Twins. Bear with me if it doesn't make sense, it will as it progresses. Unbeta'd since I have had not one fiction ever beta'd in my life so any mistakes are my own.
○○○
He felt as if he were suffocating. Thick fluid drowning his lungs as chestnut eyes searched a voided abyss and weak limbs scavenged around the darkness. A flash of red exploded in his vision, a trail of distressing screams echoing against his deafened ears.
He stepped forward, nearly tripping as his foot remained planted to the ground and he righted himself. Doubling over, he clutched the fabric of his jeans; pulling fruitlessly as fingernails dug beneath denim to leave indented marks on his pale skin.
Another scream reverberated on his eardrums and he looked up, dark eyes locking on the faint form in front of him. The older woman looked as she was floating, inky blackness enveloping her body as shadows rolled across her face.
Tired eyes mirrored his personal demons as he saw his soul reflected in his mother’s dark pupils.
You’re damned.
He cringed hearing those words, pulling his gaze away as he shut his eyes, the woman’s voice continuing to repeat in his mind. Seconds later, a gasp tore from his throat and his eyes flew open.
Fingers ghosted over his ribcage, cold metal halting the quest as he curved the digits around the scissors protruding from his chest. He looked up, locking desperate eyes with the irresolute image in front of him until the blades rotated and plunged deeper.
He screamed, the action carrying over into the waking world as his body vehemently jerked awake. Finding fresh oxygen rushing to his lungs, he wrenched a palm to his forehead, the heavy beating of his heart reverberating in his ribcage as he pressed fingers against his closed eyes.
“You were mumbling in your sleep again…” a voice carried from across the room, the girl’s eyes diverting down as she plucked at the bed sheet.
Sylar dropped his hands, directing his gaze to the young woman sitting on the mattress, his eyes darting to her twin brother sleeping in the bed beside hers. Maya trailed a fingertip along the quilt, her voice hushed as a cough lightly racked her chest. She looked up to speak but halted when she found him looking at her face contently, his eyes drawn to her mouth.
Before she could ask questions, he blinked, his voice almost inaudible, “You’re bleeding.” The girl tilted her head, confusion etched in her eyes until a metallic tang of iron infused her taste buds.
A snake of tongue over red tinged lips and she panicked. Pulling a hand up, she dabbed an index finger into the tiny pool of blood dripped on her bottom lip. He stared at her as she switched her attention from skin to his face, her hand beginning to tremble as black clouded her eyes.
Tar seeped from her pupils as another set of coughs racked her chest and his eyes began to blacken. A desperate gasp tore from Sylar’s throat as he stumbled forward, his focus divided as blood drained onto motel bed sheets.
Maya grasped his arm, scratching frantically at his skin as he tried to keep her shaking limbs still, his breath coming out in ragged exhales.
”¿Qué sucede?”1
He snapped his head to the side, black eyes meeting pained brown as Alejandro collapsed at the side of the bed. Muffled screams echoed in his ears and he looked back at the girl, her body starting to convulse as inky eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell to the mattress.
Fresh oxygen rushed to his lungs as the black drained and he stared in horror at the blood splayed across white sheets. A cough pulled his attention from Maya’s prone form, dark eyes darting towards the twin as he tried to pull himself up from the ground. He dragged the back of his hand across his chin, red leaving glistening streaks across tanned skin.
Sylar planted a foot behind him, his eyebrows creased in confusion before his body was hit with a deafening force. Air ripped itself from his lungs as his muscles tensed and he choked on a thick layer of dust.
”¿Qué hace usted?”2 came a weak response, “Hágalo para.”3
A lamp fell to the ground and shattered, the aftershock wrenching a pair of palms over delicate ears before a collapse of limbs ended an onslaught of noises.
○○○
Brown eyes opened to a dark room, a moan exiting his lips as he pulled himself up slowly. He took a deep breath, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before attempting to move, a hand pressed firmly to his temple.
Rubbing his eyes, he stepped forward towards the wall as he felt around for the light switch. Bright light illuminated the motel room and he turned around, his body jerking back at the sight of the siblings’ motionless bodies.
His eyes scanned the floor, attention flitting from the large discs of red stained in the carpet as he lifted his gaze to Maya’s body. Dark red surrounded the young woman, her black eyes locked in an impenetrable gaze with the ceiling as her limbs lay in awkward positions at her side.
He stumbled forward, snatching the set of keys from the table as he rushed out the door, almost tripping over a body collapsed outside the motel room. Fumbling with the keys, he unlocked the car, entering on the driver’s side as he closed the door and threw open the glove compartment.
Sylar pulled the contents of the compartment out onto the floor of the SUV, scanning the papers littered on the seat as he pulled one up to his view. His eyes read the font scrawled on the registration papers, a smile tugging on his lips as he flung it back into the pile and shoved the key into the ignition.
He drove for thirty minutes, weaving between still traffic as he tried to keep his focus on the road and not on the bodies littering the sidewalk and street. Pulling the Rogue to the curb in front of a small two story house, he glanced out the window, finally opening the door as he exited the car and walked up to the front door.
Slipping the ring of keys into his coat pocket, he stood in front of the door, pulling a clenched fist up to knock on the wood. As his knuckles connected with the entry, a slow creak echoed in his ears as the door opened and he narrowed his eyes.
He stuffed both hands into his pockets, kicking his foot out to step over the threshold and into the Bennett home, maneuvering through the foyer and into the living room. As soon as he turned his head, the corner wall clearing from his view, he stopped.
Choked sobs danced on his eardrums as he tilted his head to the mess displayed on the floor. The bodies of Sandra Bennett, her son Lyle and the family dog lay in a bloody heap on the tile, a nest of blonde curls hiding the face of a frantic young girl.
Sylar let his fingers play with the keys in his pocket, the light jingle causing her to lift her head in his direction, despair ridden eyes turning alarmed in seconds. Although fear was overwhelming in her green eyes, a flicker of calm and peace crossed them as she hastily wiped the tears from her cheeks. Claire tucked tangled curls behind her ear, mumbling through breathless sobs, “I take it you’re here for me?”
He continued to remain silent; causing the young girl stumbled up, slipping on the slick tile as she moved towards the small table against the wall. He watched her movements as she fumbled with the drawer, awkwardly opening it as she tried to keep her emotions under control.
He pulled his gaze away just as his nerves sensed an oncoming action, a hand rising just as throat muscles clenched and a violent cough tore from his lungs. Pulling his arm back; his dark eyes observed red liquid moistening on his skin as he straightened up and ran a tongue along his bottom lip.
When he glanced back up, the girl had already closed the drawer, her hand curved around a small handgun. “You know that can’t do anything to me.” He remarked softly, his tongue running across his lips again. Claire mocked a laugh, rolling her eyes as she brought the gun up, digging the end of the barrel against her neck. “It’s not for you.”
“As much as I want you dead,” she replied bitterly, teeth clenched, “I would much rather wish this hell upon you.” She dug the barrel of the gun deeper against her skin when he attempted to move forward and he stopped.
“You take my ability and you live in this world forever,” Her green eyes were hard now, tears pricking the corners as she spat, “surrounded by death and disease and destruction…”
Blood stained lips parted as a maniacal grin crossed his angular face, the young girl scoffing at the silent reply, gripping the trigger. “Congratulations.” She voiced before a deafening shot rang throughout the house, the girl’s body falling to ground.
Sylar stared down at her still form, shock flitting across his features for a second before another cough racked his chest. His eyes kept a locked gaze on the bullet wound in her neck as he walked forward and knelt next to her body. As he brought a hand up, his throat began to close, lungs choking on the lack of air as the virus began to attack his system.
He doubled over, palms submerged in the girl’s blood as he gasped for oxygen. The distraction was enough to split his focus as he haphazardly sliced her skull open, blood splaying across his face.
Smearing a hand against his cheek, he closed his eyes, using his telekinesis to keep his throat muscles open. When fresh air began to fill his lungs, his dark eyes opened, tilting his view as he observed the unveiled brain in front of him.
○○○
He dragged the edge of the blade across his wrist, observing the pale skin split as dark red bloomed from the wound. The blood bubbled, trailing down the curve of his arm as the blunt edges reversed, his skin beginning to knit back together.
Lips parted in a smile as he dragged a bloodied palm over the healed wound, eyes lifting to notice the television across the room. He hadn’t noticed it before, his attention elsewhere as he maneuvered around the countertop island. Stepping over the bodies sprawled on the tile; he tuned his ears to the news channel.
A rush of white body suits flitted across the screen as bolded words scrawled along the bottom and his eyes narrowed at the location. The reporter was frantic; the string of quarantined locals rolling over her tongue into a mesh, but his hearing dissected the cities clearly, a few names catching his attention.
Sylar sighed, stuffing a hand into his coat pocket as he fingered the keys within, glancing over his shoulder absently as he headed for the door.
It seemed that he was heading for Odessa.
○○○
1; What's happening?
2; What are you doing?
3; Make it stop.