Fic: Electric Firefly (Chapter 8)
Electric Firefly
Summary: The Company sets her teeth on edge, but most of the time it helps control the chaos, that darkness within her. Sequel to “Just Another Day on the Job.” Elle-centric. Sylar/Elle. AU.
Author’s Note: Special thanks to faded_facade for mad beta skills. And thanks for the support of the Syelle Livejournal Community and all of the reviews and comments help fuel my muse! ;) This chapter is dedicated to lemomina, for all of her support and for keeping me motivated to write. ;)
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes. Duh.
Rating: Mature rating for swearing, sexuality, and violence...and the dark mind that is psycho Elle.
WARNING: Blood play, violence, and sex...
“You’re late.”
Elle’s internal, psychotic beast screams a high pitch, wordless sound that echoes within her consciousness. Every muscle tenses in her body in response to his voice. The voltage of her ability jumps to overload her system, she can practically taste the sparks in her mouth.
Sylar turns his head to the side, his profile sharply defined from the illuminating white hot energy booming from his fingers. Elle briefly wonders what ability he‘s picked up that allowed him to spot her so easily. Or maybe, it was just his natural predatory instincts.
After a long, silent moment that seemed to last an eternity, chocolate orbs slowly slide directly to where Elle is hidden in the shadows.
Her lips unconsciously twitch to the side. Elle pushes her petite body up from the crouched position. The Company agent confidently stalks towards her target, hips swaying seductively. Electricity flows behind her dance. She savors each step closer to her target.
“Miss me?” Elle taunts as she enters into the light.
Sylar’s lips curl back in disgust, a silent snarl in response to her show of overconfidence. His arms are to his side, trembling ever so slightly. Anger practically vibrating in waves from his skin.
“What do you want?” He growls, ignoring her question.
“You, silly. I thought you‘d already pick up on that, on account of the pretty pictures you‘ve painted.” Elle coos as she slowly begins to pace back and forth in front of him, never breaking eye contact. Her internal beast purrs, eager and hungry. “One live body, brains still intact. Gonna stop the bomb and be the hero by bringing you in.”
“Hero.” He rolls the word slowly around his mouth, testing it out as if it was foreign.
Elle knows that her eyes were the color of spring skies, that warm pale blue that still manages to look cold. Her face is pleasant, her eyes neutral and watching everything he did. She watches everything impassively, as if everything meant nothing to her. She’s spent her entire life waiting for someone to interest her, and until now, people just didn’t.
Elle brings both her hands into the shape of guns. Blue energy jumps across her skin in anticipation.
“Nobody wants to hurt you, we just want to talk.” The practiced line slips out of her mouth, the memorized dialogue that she gives to all of the big bad specials right before she drags them to their cells.
Sylar makes a face like he knows she‘s lying.
Elle flashes perfect white teeth.
“Except I do hurt people. I guess it’s the way I’m wired.” Her eyes sparkle blue with her power as she further taunts the prey, voice sing-songy and childish. “You’ll never meet anyone as special as me.”
Sylar looks into those sky blue eyes, shining with humor, and feels the threat. The words are subtle, the power that emanated from her is not. The power climbs over Sylar’s skin, raising the hairs on his body, like insects crawling, that faint buzz of electric current. Sylar can breathe in her power, coke on it.
Elle smiles widely, but her eyes do not sparkle anymore. Games are over, Elle doesn't have to pretend to be normal, so she doesn't try. Sylar stares into her eyes, and finds nothing.
Without any warning, Elle knocks Sylar over with a large bolt of electricity, sending him down to the ground. Onto his knees, like all of her victims. Elle lives to make the powerful ones weak. And right now, she has the scariest, meanest special on the floor beneath her. He coughs up blood, wipes his hand across his mouth. The sticky metallic liquid is smeared across his chin. The sight make her nipples harden, pulse speed up.
“Stings like a bitch, doesn’t it?” The firecracker laughs coldly as she creates a dangerous ball of electricity, energy snapping loudly back and forth between the palms of her hands. The internal voltage within her core continues to build, until Elle is confident that she can’t contain all of it for much longer.
Sylar’s eyes widen ever so slightly at Elle’s little display of power.
Elle stares down at her soon to be victim, very aware of the small changes in him. She raises a delicate eyebrow and speaks slowly, full of wonder, “You’re afraid of me, just like all the others.”
Fear means control. It means that Sylar is controllable. Elle’s heart swells at the idea of power over him. She snorts a satisfied sound.
Sylar slowly stands, bringing up both hands to his sides as the nuclear energy begins to radiate brightly. “You should be the one afraid of me.”
Elle can feel the radiation pulsating against her skin, hot and burning.
“Afraid? Please. Just because you can steal powers and go boom?” Elle lifts her head defiantly, “I’m not afraid of anything.”
You can’t be afraid if you can’t feel anything.
Her hand moves in an unnaturally fast blur. Sylar gasps in surprise. Blood pours in a bright red flood down his chest. It splatters on the floor, like rain. The sticky fluid covers her hand and the sharp silver knife between her fingers. Her mouth parts softly at the mark she’s given him, a ghost of a real smile beginning to peak on the edges of her lips, that close, canary-eating grin of hers.
Sylar raises his hand up, pushes Elle telekinetically into the air. For a split second, Elle thinks that he is going to throw her over the edge to tumble thirty stories to her death. Most people would feel panicked, but Elle simply is numb, empty. Instead of being hurdled over the building, her body shifts direction mid-air. With his mind, Sylar slams Elle into the red brick wall, knocking the wind out of her. Her body crumples to the floor like a broken rag doll. For a moment, her vision is blurred and all Elle can see is a white nothingness.
The pain fills her up, a rush better than any drug.
A full throated sound bubbles uncontrollably from her lips from the pure delight.
He’s standing inches in front of her, his eyes narrowing at the sound of her laughter. Elle continues to laugh as she secretly begins to build up electricity in her core, slowly collecting enough power to turn him into dust with a single blast. The energy hums softly across her skin, the beast waiting oh so patiently to strike. Almost…
Emotions flow rapidly across his face, like clouds passing over the sun, one right after another. Anger. Overconfidence. Lust. Sadness. Frustration.
She feels the dark, psychotic beast fill her eyes. That cold part of her where there was nothing but static and silence. Elle watches him look into her face and see the emptiness.
He lifts her from the floor with his telekinesis, bringing her up eye level.
Her eyes leak sparking blue electricity, the power waiting to break free from beneath the surface.
Sylar leans in and whispers into her ear, his breath cold against her skin. “I hate you.”
Before Elle has a chance to respond with a witty comment or a blast of electricity, his full lips crash into her like heat. He kisses her roughly enough to bruise unless she opens her mouth. Elle closes her eyes and takes him in. He kisses her like he was tasting her, as if he’d reach into her mouth with his tongue and his lips and pull her inside out. His large, cold hands cup her face and then slowly slide behind her head into the warmth of her hair.
Something inside of her consciousness clicks open.
Elle wants him. She wants him so badly she can’t think about anything but the feel of him against her. Her skin aches to be touched, body hurting with a need that she’s never known. Her hands move to push back his gray coat, she needs to feel his skin.
Sylar makes a sound that was almost a growl, low and persistent. Eagerness did not begin to describe that sound in the man’s throat, vibrating across her lips. The sound makes her body respond, tightening in warm pleasure.
Elle loses her tightly wound control.
She breaks the kiss and roughly grabs his black shirt, tearing it off into pieces. He watches her with a strange look on his face as she unwraps her favorite prize. Elle is impatient, needs to feel his skin against her own. She rubs her cheek against his chest, across the knife wound she had only momentarily inflected upon him. The blood from the deep cut flows along her skin. It wasn’t so much the feel of the blood as the smell of it. Hot, sweet, flatly metallic, and underneath, the faint scent of fear.
Elle plunges her fingers into the wound, sending a playful jolt of electricity into his body. Sylar moans in response, tries to push her off, but it only heightens her fascination. She watches in awe as the blood flows slowly from his chest. For a moment, she has the fantasy of ripping out his heart and watching the dark blood and life pour out of him until all that is left is an empty shell. Instead, she slowly licks the damage, softly and gently like a cat. Her hands unconsciously move to fumble with his belt, stripping off the remainder of his clothes. Closing her eyes, she takes her time tasting his skin, sweat, and blood, taking in all of him with her tongue.
He tastes like power.
Sylar’s hands are playing tentatively with her blond hair, the gesture seems painfully familiar.
The petite special stands on her toes, moves her mouth to his collar bone, across his shoulders, and neck. She continues to lick along his skin, until she finds the spot she’s looking for. Her teeth come down in a quick sharpness. Elle sighs deeply with satisfaction as she gathers his flesh into her mouth and breaks the skin, blood filling her mouth. Sylar cries out, hands clenching into fists and yanking her head back by her hair.
Elle’s body tingles in excitement at the sight of what she’s done. She’s left a perfect mark on his skin. She smiles lazily, her eyes glazed over.
A blast of energy knocks Sylar down to the ground.
Elle slips out of her clothing in liquid speed, never moving her eyes away from the target. Sylar raises an eyebrow and makes a surprised sound from his throat. Elle has never felt uncomfortable or embarrassed stripping down.
In a blur of speed, Sylar’s hands lift up her body and slam her exposed back against the cold, brick wall, bringing a moan from her lips. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist and she can feel him eager and ready against her skin. Elle’s heart is beating so fast it hurt, pounding in her throat like a trapped thing.
Being close to Sylar was like being close with a wild beast. You could pet it and it seemed to like you, but you knew deep down that if it ever got hungry enough, or angry enough, it would kill you. Kill you and eat the flesh from your bones. The morbid thought excites Elle. Maybe he’ll kill her, maybe she’ll kill him. Elle has always walked a very fine line between pleasure and pain.
She's waited a long time for this moment.
Sylar pushes his way deep inside of her and she welcomes him hungrily. He’s not gentle or soft. There is no love in what they are doing. Simply mating between superior, dominant beasts. He pounds himself into her until all Elle can hear is the sound of flesh hitting against flesh.
He fills her up and makes her feel ...alive.
Although she has no memory of being with Sylar, her body remembers him. It is not the first time they have danced before.
Elle’s finger nails dig sharply into his shoulders and concurrently shoots a bolt of electricity into his skin. Blood and burnt flesh, a gesture to remind him who is really in control. He cries out above her, and his body loses that practiced rhythm and suddenly he fucks her as hard and as fast as he can.
Elle has always been the outsider, the lone wolf... but now... now she finally connects with someone. A union formed on blood, pain, and sex.
Elle can feel the orgasm growing. Filling her up like warm water in a cup, slowly from bottom up. It flows over her in small, vibrating spasms.
Something opens inside of Elle. A warm, rush of power. It spills over her, into her. The electric current raises every hair on her body. For one shining moment, every molecule in her body loses control and all Elle can see is blinding, blue energy.
Sylar screams out in both pleasure and pain.
They collapse onto the ground in exhaustion, breathing heavily.
For a long moment, all she can hear is the loud beating of her own heart in her ears.
Elle slowly nuzzles her lips and cheek against the outline of his jaw, marking Sylar with her scent like a leopard.
Sylar smiles in response and he gently runs his hands through her long, blond hair. His voice is soft and holds a strange tone, “My little electric firefly.”
Elle props her head up with her hands. The laughter seeps out of her eyes, her lips, her face, until she stares at him with neutral, predator eyes.
Her voice is a cold, emotionless whisper, “Are you going to blow up the city?”
Sylar avoids her gaze and instead touches her hand, a tentative play of fingers. With his telekinesis, he brings her back down to the ground next to him. He slowly and hesitantly traces his finger over her skin, a light, exploring touch.
Sylar’s eyebrows furrow in deep concentration and he opens his mouth and closes it twice before he is able to speak.
“You‘ll find out tonight.” He replies cryptically.
Elle knows that he can feel her silent smile against his skin.
Author’s Note: Yay! Am happy that I got this chapter finally up. Real life got in the way. Thanks for being patient and supportive of this story. More to come… Reviews = LOVE!