[Fic] Heroes - Argus 13/13
Title: Argus 13/13 - Mohinder should be here to see this
Author: themaskedmckay
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: None
Words: 583
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. Sylar implements an extreme solution.
Author's Notes: A HUGE thank you to luckykitty for the beta! Additional notes at the end of this part.
Argus Illustration
[ All Parts to date]
Mohinder should be here to see this
It's been weeks and whatever Parkman has done to my mind, it isn't getting better. I've spent most of that time squatting in empty houses, lying on the floor, relying on my ability to heal to stave off starvation and thirst. When I'm not hiding I'm walking the streets, following the other duplicates and putting together the pieces.
Despite the despair and apathy I've been nursing my anger and using it to fuel my investigation.
The original knows about us. I've seen the abductions; I've seen how careful they are not to damage us in a way that might produce another duplicate. They attack with electricity and cold and carefully aimed bolts to the back of the head. They're capturing us and I know, because it's what I would do, the original is the one rounding us all up and taking the powers we've stolen for himself.
I can't figure out where they're hiding him or how he's managed to worm his way into a position of authority. I think he's working with the Petrelli family which surprises me. Why would I, betrayed and made a fool of by Angela Petrelli, ally myself with them? Or are they so afraid of the duplicates they're willing to deal with the original?
Since my encounter with Matt Parkman I've been conducting experiments with replication and regeneration. I've produced dozens of duplicates to use as guinea pigs and I have studied and pushed my own regenerative abilities to the limits of possibility. I think I may have gone mad.
The warehouse I've taken over has been carefully prepared. Plastic sheeting covers the floor and all the walls. There are racks and racks of clothing along one wall. I have a long table loaded down with hundreds of copies of a little booklet I've put together detailing all the information I've been able to determine about the original and what has been happening to our duplicate brothers; it features photographs, phone numbers, anything I've been able to scrounge while still eluding capture.
The large pile of money isn't really needed but a good father likes to provide for his children. I've often thought about evolutionary imperative and how I was going to produce offspring when I had such little interest in carnal relations but I should have known I would find a way. I always do.
I wheel the gleaming wood chipper into place. I've calculated the distance from the wall to ensure good distribution of chips and maximum regeneration rate. For a moment I wish Mohinder was here. I would love to savour his horror over what I am about to do.
As for the original Sylar, if I cannot find him I cannot kill him. But there is another way I can make him meaningless and that is to dilute his presence in this world. I will make hundreds of duplicates and encourage them to create hundreds of themselves until there are so many Sylars in the world the original Sylar doesn't matter anymore and there is no hope of containing or stopping us all.
I don't like pain so I inject myself with a strong painkiller and climb into the chipper bin. When I feel myself going numb, my mind starting to fog over, I use telekinesis to start the machine and I barely feel it when it starts to chew my legs. I keep my gaze fixed on the slogan I've painted on the opposite wall, "We are all Sylar."
Sylar is immortal.
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[ All Parts to date]
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Additional Notes: Thank you if you've read this far! This is the longest fic I've written since I started writing again. Just a few author notes now that I'm finished posting.
1. I split this fic up into parts according to which Sylar was 'speaking'. I would have preferred to post the entire thing as one fic but LJ doesn't allow stories that long. I hope this wasn't too confusing to read because of it.
2. The title 'Argus' may seem misleading as there is no direct relation between the content of the story with the legendary multi-eyed titan of legend. The reason for this title is this story is told in first-person present perspective and... oh, I'm so ashamed of this... that means there are many 'I's. The title is a horrible pun. A horrible, horrible pun. *hangs head in shame*
3. This is the second Heroes fic I have written. It just took a long time to complete.
Author: themaskedmckay
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: None
Words: 583
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. Sylar implements an extreme solution.
Author's Notes: A HUGE thank you to luckykitty for the beta! Additional notes at the end of this part.
Argus Illustration
[ All Parts to date]
Mohinder should be here to see this
It's been weeks and whatever Parkman has done to my mind, it isn't getting better. I've spent most of that time squatting in empty houses, lying on the floor, relying on my ability to heal to stave off starvation and thirst. When I'm not hiding I'm walking the streets, following the other duplicates and putting together the pieces.
Despite the despair and apathy I've been nursing my anger and using it to fuel my investigation.
The original knows about us. I've seen the abductions; I've seen how careful they are not to damage us in a way that might produce another duplicate. They attack with electricity and cold and carefully aimed bolts to the back of the head. They're capturing us and I know, because it's what I would do, the original is the one rounding us all up and taking the powers we've stolen for himself.
I can't figure out where they're hiding him or how he's managed to worm his way into a position of authority. I think he's working with the Petrelli family which surprises me. Why would I, betrayed and made a fool of by Angela Petrelli, ally myself with them? Or are they so afraid of the duplicates they're willing to deal with the original?
Since my encounter with Matt Parkman I've been conducting experiments with replication and regeneration. I've produced dozens of duplicates to use as guinea pigs and I have studied and pushed my own regenerative abilities to the limits of possibility. I think I may have gone mad.
The warehouse I've taken over has been carefully prepared. Plastic sheeting covers the floor and all the walls. There are racks and racks of clothing along one wall. I have a long table loaded down with hundreds of copies of a little booklet I've put together detailing all the information I've been able to determine about the original and what has been happening to our duplicate brothers; it features photographs, phone numbers, anything I've been able to scrounge while still eluding capture.
The large pile of money isn't really needed but a good father likes to provide for his children. I've often thought about evolutionary imperative and how I was going to produce offspring when I had such little interest in carnal relations but I should have known I would find a way. I always do.
I wheel the gleaming wood chipper into place. I've calculated the distance from the wall to ensure good distribution of chips and maximum regeneration rate. For a moment I wish Mohinder was here. I would love to savour his horror over what I am about to do.
As for the original Sylar, if I cannot find him I cannot kill him. But there is another way I can make him meaningless and that is to dilute his presence in this world. I will make hundreds of duplicates and encourage them to create hundreds of themselves until there are so many Sylars in the world the original Sylar doesn't matter anymore and there is no hope of containing or stopping us all.
I don't like pain so I inject myself with a strong painkiller and climb into the chipper bin. When I feel myself going numb, my mind starting to fog over, I use telekinesis to start the machine and I barely feel it when it starts to chew my legs. I keep my gaze fixed on the slogan I've painted on the opposite wall, "We are all Sylar."
Sylar is immortal.
-------
[ All Parts to date]
-------
Additional Notes: Thank you if you've read this far! This is the longest fic I've written since I started writing again. Just a few author notes now that I'm finished posting.
1. I split this fic up into parts according to which Sylar was 'speaking'. I would have preferred to post the entire thing as one fic but LJ doesn't allow stories that long. I hope this wasn't too confusing to read because of it.
2. The title 'Argus' may seem misleading as there is no direct relation between the content of the story with the legendary multi-eyed titan of legend. The reason for this title is this story is told in first-person present perspective and... oh, I'm so ashamed of this... that means there are many 'I's. The title is a horrible pun. A horrible, horrible pun. *hangs head in shame*
3. This is the second Heroes fic I have written. It just took a long time to complete.