(no subject)
Sylar has dead eyes. His gaze pierces her own, makes her skin crawl. "That wonderful ability...the power of persuasion, and all this time you were the girl next door."
I'm not the girl next door. I'm not the bad girl. I'm not the good little soldier. She can't come up with what she is, but that doesn't matter.
She focuses. They both hear the Other in her voice. "I'm going to take this gun, and put it in that slot, and you're going to take it, and you're going to blow your brains out."
There's not a flicker from him. He knows he's doomed.
"You knew what I was, didn’t you?"
Suddenly she's surging forward - the crash of breaking glass, the pain in her face, the warmth of blood on her cold skin, the gun in her hand, his hand crushing her neck can't breathe can't breathe--
"You knew what I was and you let it continue." His eyes aren't dead at all - they're lit up. They're cool and confident and hungry. Like a shark if sharks could feel pleasure.
They’re the last thing she'll ever see.
"In a way, you helped me. And after I've consumed your power, you'll help me even more." His chuckle is low and intimate. He was playing them from the start.
She still has the gun. Black spots dance in front of her eyes as she turns it towards him.
Beneath the menacing tone there's amusement. "Eden, you know that won't hurt me."
He doesn't even think to take the gun away. It can't hurt him and he can't gain from it, so it's insignificant. Eden has always prided herself on knowing men's weaknesses.
Her wrist feels heavy, her fingers too light to grip. But she manages it. The tip of her finger brushes the trigger. She can't breathe. It doesn't matter anymore.
Eden points the gun at her head. I'm sorry, Mama.
The last thing she sees is the surprise in his shark's eyes.