Welcome To Hell (Mylar)
“Welcome home, Dr. Suresh.”
Mohinder felt the blood drain from his face. Sylar. Here. Only a few feet away. In his apartment again.
Molly.
Before Mohinder could try to run for Molly’s bedroom, Sylar had slammed the door and pinned him to the ceiling with telekinesis.
“Been having fun playing house these past few months with Matt Parkman? Have you two filed for a civil union yet?” Sylar sneered, looking up at Mohinder.
Mohinder spat at him.
Sylar rolled his eyes and focused intensely on the geneticist.
And suddenly Mohinder wasn’t trapped on the ceiling in his apartment.
He was running. Running down a long, dimly-lit hallway, a Company gun clutched in his hand.
There were cells on either side of the hall, and people were calling out to him from them.
He sister, Shanti.
Molly.
Dale.
The real Zane.
Eden … Sarah Ellis …
Peter Petrelli.
His own father.
“I can’t!” he yelled. “I have to get out of here, he’s coming for me!”
Silence.
He found the door: huge and cold and iron, with bright, warm light on the other side of the glass window. It was locked.
Noah Bennet behind the window, grinning. Behind him were the people Mohinder had passed in the hall.
“Let me through!” Mohinder begged. “Open up! Please!”
Noah shook his head. “You’re not a hero anymore, Suresh; you’re never getting in here.” Noah hoisted Molly into his arms and hugged her. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” and with that, Noah slammed a shutter across the widow. Only a feeble light illuminated the dark, terrifying hallway.
“No!” Mohinder pounded on the door. He had to get though, before …
“Moooooohinder …” sang a chilling voice.
Mohinder had never felt so terrified in his life.
“There’s nowhere to run to, Mohinder … they rejected you. You belong with me now.”
“Who are you?” Mohinder demanded, shaking like a leaf: he knew who it was.
“I have so many names … you called me ‘Zane’ once … you called me ‘friend’ once …”
And suddenly Sylar was there. He tore the gun from Mohinder’s grasp and tossed it aside into a pitch-black corner.
He dragged Mohinder far, far away from the door that led to that beautiful, light-filled place and into a room lit with red and black lights. He shoved Mohinder down onto the bed in the corner.
“You’re mine …” Sylar said, practically purring as he locked the door and hung up his jacket. “All mine, at last.”
“No I’m not.” Mohinder snapped. “I belong with them. You’re evil. You murdered people … you murdered my father!”
Sylar shook his head sadly. “You just don’t understand, do you, Mohinder? You murdered Noah Bennet. Right in front of his daughter, too. And you led me to people who I killed.” Sylar sat down next to Mohinder on the bed and ran his fingers through the geneticist’s hair. “Still think you belong with them?” he whispered, sliding his hand down inside Mohinder’s pants.
Mohinder knew he shouldn’t feel … shouldn’t like … shouldn’t enjoy that at all but he did …
Mohinder woke up screaming.
He was slumped against a wall in a bare room with a ceiling light. Before he started to feel relief at being out of that horror … he realized that he was wearing handcuffs.
“Mohinder!” Molly crawled over to him and clung to him desperately. “He came to our house! The Bogeyman! I couldn’t fight him …” she started to cry.
Mohinder hugged her, looking around the room. Besides him and Molly, there were two other people in the room. A man and a woman, dark haired and tanned, both handcuffed like Mohinder.
“Who are you?” Mohinder asked nervously.
The woman glanced to the man and whispered something in … Spanish? After a quick debate, the woman faced him.
“Welcome to hell.” she said in an accented voice as black tears started to stream down her face …