[Fic] Argus 1/13
Title: Argus 1/13 - The Blue Door/You Wear That Rainbow Like the Sky
Author: themaskedmckay
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: None
Words: 829
Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me.
Warning: Character death & implied character death. But death isn't always as final as it might seem.
Spoilers: Up to the end of season three. The story takes place between seasons three and four.
Summary: Sylar the cockroach becomes Sylar the planarian when his cell regeneration ability evolves.
Author's Notes: A HUGE thank you to luckykitty for the beta! I'd like to have posted this story in its entirety but it's too long for a single LJ post. It's written in distinct sections but some of the sections are rather short so I've grouped them together in a way that I hope will make sense in the end. This story was inspired by "Tomie" by Junji Ito; if you like horror you must read his comics!
[ All Parts to date]
The Blue Door
I am invisible as I walk through the crowded streets of New York City. Not literally, not until I find someone with that special ability, but I am naturally skilled at being beneath notice. It’s not a skill I usually appreciate but in the past week it has proven to be valuable. I am being hunted.
A quick glance to my left and the persistent feeling of being watched intensifies. For a moment I thought I see my stalker before he slips into the crowd and vanishes. The hairs stand up on my arms and I know he has found another hidden spot from which to spy on me.
I wonder what he’s waiting for as I slip into a familiar apartment building. My stalker is cautious and I cannot fault him for that; I would be too, if our situation were reversed. I can be quite intimidating, after all. But I wouldn’t have waited this long to make my move given my obvious destination.
The guts of the building’s new security locks twist and tumble with my thoughts and grant me access. This place, above all others, cannot deny me entrance. It was here that I was reborn as a superior being. The small set of rooms on the sixth floor, I am only mildly embarrassed to admit, are akin to a holy place for me.
The apartment door is still blue and the brass number 613 unchanged.
I see another shiny new set of locks has been installed. A great anger swells in my chest at the implication I am not welcome but I fight it down before I act rash. This situation will require some delicate diplomacy if I am to get the answers I need. The good doctor Suresh cannot be forced to speak if he does not wish to; it is something I both admire and find to be an endless source of frustration.
I hear a thud and muffled voices. Mohinder is home but he's not alone. I had wanted to catch him alone but I'm being followed and I don't know how long I have. I have to act. I knock on the door and hope his guest won't be too much trouble to take care of.
You Wear That Rainbow Like the Sky
"I'm sorry, Mohinder. I shouldn't have startled you like that." It's an effort to sound humble before this man I have so much history with. He isn't as scared of me as he once was and I'm not sure how I can use that, yet. In retrospect, waiting for him in his apartment with the lights off might not have been the brightest move but old habits are always hard to break. Suresh has habits, too, which is probably why he moved back into his father's apartment despite it having been invaded and ransacked by enemies many times in the past.
"You're dead," he says flatly as he unwinds a rainbow from around his neck. He’s like an eight-year old girl when it comes to picking colours. "I was there when they burned your body." Maybe he isn't as calm as he's trying to sound because he licks his lips and a bead of sweat slowly kisses his cheek. Listen to me, I'm such a romantic.
"Clearly, I'm not." So he returned to his apartment because he thought I was dead and it was now safe. I don't like it when he feels safe from me. I want to step into his personal space and loom large in his mind. I lean forward but he stands his ground. He always stands his ground. For a brief moment I wonder if he'll use his new super-powered strength to attack me but instead he takes a breath and finds his calm.
"What do you want?" he asks.
He's got me there. Of course I want something from him. I always do. Usually I would try to draw this out, play a game with him, but the situation grows more desperate by the hour. "We have a problem."
His eyebrow arches and his voice is rich with sarcasm, "We? Since when did we become a 'we'?"
He always was presumptuous. A smile touches my lips before I can stop myself.
"If this is another cry for attention I am not interested in playing your personal saviour. If it is a legitimate threat then maybe you should contact someone with a bit more authority than I have, like Noah Bennett or Angela Petrelli." His words are full of bitter vitriol but his face is angelic in its fury. So many people forget angels aren't the cherubic representations you find on a Hallmark card. I appreciate him the most when he's twisted up with anger and hate.
“I doubt they’ll have the resources we need,” I finally say. However, I’m sure they can be useful to me down the road but Mohinder doesn't need to know that. "We need Molly Walker."
-------
[ All Parts to date]
On to part two
Author: themaskedmckay
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: None
Words: 829
Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me.
Warning: Character death & implied character death. But death isn't always as final as it might seem.
Spoilers: Up to the end of season three. The story takes place between seasons three and four.
Summary: Sylar the cockroach becomes Sylar the planarian when his cell regeneration ability evolves.
Author's Notes: A HUGE thank you to luckykitty for the beta! I'd like to have posted this story in its entirety but it's too long for a single LJ post. It's written in distinct sections but some of the sections are rather short so I've grouped them together in a way that I hope will make sense in the end. This story was inspired by "Tomie" by Junji Ito; if you like horror you must read his comics!
[ All Parts to date]
The Blue Door
I am invisible as I walk through the crowded streets of New York City. Not literally, not until I find someone with that special ability, but I am naturally skilled at being beneath notice. It’s not a skill I usually appreciate but in the past week it has proven to be valuable. I am being hunted.
A quick glance to my left and the persistent feeling of being watched intensifies. For a moment I thought I see my stalker before he slips into the crowd and vanishes. The hairs stand up on my arms and I know he has found another hidden spot from which to spy on me.
I wonder what he’s waiting for as I slip into a familiar apartment building. My stalker is cautious and I cannot fault him for that; I would be too, if our situation were reversed. I can be quite intimidating, after all. But I wouldn’t have waited this long to make my move given my obvious destination.
The guts of the building’s new security locks twist and tumble with my thoughts and grant me access. This place, above all others, cannot deny me entrance. It was here that I was reborn as a superior being. The small set of rooms on the sixth floor, I am only mildly embarrassed to admit, are akin to a holy place for me.
The apartment door is still blue and the brass number 613 unchanged.
I see another shiny new set of locks has been installed. A great anger swells in my chest at the implication I am not welcome but I fight it down before I act rash. This situation will require some delicate diplomacy if I am to get the answers I need. The good doctor Suresh cannot be forced to speak if he does not wish to; it is something I both admire and find to be an endless source of frustration.
I hear a thud and muffled voices. Mohinder is home but he's not alone. I had wanted to catch him alone but I'm being followed and I don't know how long I have. I have to act. I knock on the door and hope his guest won't be too much trouble to take care of.
You Wear That Rainbow Like the Sky
"I'm sorry, Mohinder. I shouldn't have startled you like that." It's an effort to sound humble before this man I have so much history with. He isn't as scared of me as he once was and I'm not sure how I can use that, yet. In retrospect, waiting for him in his apartment with the lights off might not have been the brightest move but old habits are always hard to break. Suresh has habits, too, which is probably why he moved back into his father's apartment despite it having been invaded and ransacked by enemies many times in the past.
"You're dead," he says flatly as he unwinds a rainbow from around his neck. He’s like an eight-year old girl when it comes to picking colours. "I was there when they burned your body." Maybe he isn't as calm as he's trying to sound because he licks his lips and a bead of sweat slowly kisses his cheek. Listen to me, I'm such a romantic.
"Clearly, I'm not." So he returned to his apartment because he thought I was dead and it was now safe. I don't like it when he feels safe from me. I want to step into his personal space and loom large in his mind. I lean forward but he stands his ground. He always stands his ground. For a brief moment I wonder if he'll use his new super-powered strength to attack me but instead he takes a breath and finds his calm.
"What do you want?" he asks.
He's got me there. Of course I want something from him. I always do. Usually I would try to draw this out, play a game with him, but the situation grows more desperate by the hour. "We have a problem."
His eyebrow arches and his voice is rich with sarcasm, "We? Since when did we become a 'we'?"
He always was presumptuous. A smile touches my lips before I can stop myself.
"If this is another cry for attention I am not interested in playing your personal saviour. If it is a legitimate threat then maybe you should contact someone with a bit more authority than I have, like Noah Bennett or Angela Petrelli." His words are full of bitter vitriol but his face is angelic in its fury. So many people forget angels aren't the cherubic representations you find on a Hallmark card. I appreciate him the most when he's twisted up with anger and hate.
“I doubt they’ll have the resources we need,” I finally say. However, I’m sure they can be useful to me down the road but Mohinder doesn't need to know that. "We need Molly Walker."
-------
[ All Parts to date]
On to part two