Dining on Ashes // Chapter Twenty Five // FC
Title: Dining On Ashes
Chapter name: 25 //Fighting in the Trenches
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Sylar, OCs
Pairing(s): Sylar/OC
Rating: NC-17
Summary: After the events of Villains, Sylar finds himself working, yet again, for a company. Just when he thinks that things might be different, he is sent on an assignment. Killings, he can handle, robberies, no problem, but, when he's asked to protect a woman and bring her safely back to the Corporation, he might have met his match.
A/N: LAST CHAPTER!
Epilogue should be up early next week, tuesday-ish.
made by me
Chapter Twenty Five// Fighting in the trenches
His hand tugged her roughly, shoulder wrenched almost out of its socket as she ducked and weaved through the crowd, led like a dog. She had no choice but to obey, his hand held her wrist firmly, like a vice. She could have complained about the pain but she knew it would have been useless.
The door came apart in a flurry of torn metal and screams. It sounded like a war. Immediately gunfire erupted, screams hardly audible above the cacophony of battle.
Adrianna turned in time to see the inferno recede and a man walk into the flurry of bullets. But this man could not be Sylar. He might have the same hair, the same confident and deadly smirk, the same swagger, but it could not be him.
It could not be Sylar because, when the bullet bit into his chest, he staggered back. His eyes, like everyone else’s, fell to his chest, watching the red ring stretch across his shirt. His eyes expanded into two brown saucers and he looked hopeless, he looked lost.
He looked like a child.
The sound of battle fell as if someone had pressed mute. Everyone watched, transfixed, as the color drained from his face, as his lips fell.
She had been wrong, this was Sylar. And something was wrong.
He leaned back, as if his balance had gone awry, as if he was dying, and a cry pulled itself from Adrianna’s chest painfully. It felt as if it was her who had been shot, as if it was her blood coating the floor
“NO!”
She ripped her wrist away, pushing through the crowd. But no one fell out of her way, none collapsed in a pile of jerkied skin and bones. Her powers did not work, neither did Sylar’s.
Something was undeniably wrong.
His head whipped to her, like an elastic band suddenly released from its tension. Suddenly his eyes burned and he was standing tall, albeit hunched and face screwed up in pain. But he was alive, none the less. And, with a last departing nod, he stepped back out of the room.
“You will come with me,” the Boss hissed in her ear.
This time she felt oddly compelled to do so, letting him lead her away from the door, feet resisting but only barely. She watched with empty eyes as the men with guns filled out into the hall, following Sylar’s retreat. Men barked orders, those under their command obeyed, eyes fierce, guns blazing. They thought they were walking into sure victory.
And that was what Adrianna believed as she watched them advance, single file, like organized ants, through the door. Sylar was bleeding, he was almost dead.
He was mortal.
Something was wrong, she told herself, but her mind didn’t believe her, her body betrayed her. Was she giving up?
“Am I giving up?” she asked aloud, and amid the flurry of confusion and the sounds of battle, she doubted anyone would hear her. But the Boss did.
“You should.”
¤ ¤ ¤
Death was an acquaintance of his. Often he had brought along him along to meet his friends; sometimes it had even tried to shake his hand. But he was never fooled into following its path. He liked to think that he made his own route, his own decisions.
That he was his own ruler.
So, he had decided to steal Claire’s little talent. No need to worry about death when you are permanently immune to it.
But now he saw that death had as much of a hold on him as it did on others. In fact, by cheating him he had forged a link with death, one much more solid than those that only had to meet him once. Sylar met with him daily.
And now it was grinning at him, inviting him to join his other men and woman, his legion of dearly departed.
Never again, he had told himself.
And then he knew that there as something, or someone, in that room stopping him from entering. Someone dampening his powers.
Kill everyone then go for him.
It sounded easy enough. But things are never as easy as they sound.
¤ ¤ ¤
“Why can you touch me?”
“I have powerful friends.”
There was a pause during which he keyed open a door and shut it behind him. His lips curled into a smile as he heard what he must have deemed a satisfying click.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Away.”
“He’ll chase us, you know.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“You can’t kill him.”
“Yes I can. Didn’t you see that bullet go through him? He can die just like everyone else. He just needs a little bit of extra help.”
“You aren’t a man.”
That got his attention. His replies stopped being automatic, suddenly he was a person and not a recording. And he was furious.
“I am a man. I am much stronger than anyone in that room. Even your precious little prince charming,” at this Adrianna laughed.
“You have no courage; you need other people to protect you. You always have at least one person watching over you and making sure you’re safe. You can’t even lead properly.”
His fingers dug into her upper arm, fingers crushing the bone. She kept her lips sealed as best she could but was quite certain that her face turned red with effort.
“Who can lead now? Not Nathan. Not an old wrinkly senator. No one. In a time of war, good leaders are impossible to find. War turns us into tyrants, into blood hungry beats. How can we govern then?”
“You created the war.”
“Be realistic, Nathan started the war, I gave it weapons.”
“Who’s the guilty party then, hmm? Is it the one who throws the bombs or the one who makes them?”
“And what makes you think you have the right to the accuse others of being right or wrong? Are you older, are you wiser?”
“I might just be a soldier, but the real war is fought in the trenches. Not in offices. You wash your hands clean of us when you send us to war. You should know how dirty your hands have become.”
“What exactly do you suggest I do?”
“I suggest you let her go.”
Both heads turned to face Sylar, standing on the threshold of the doorway they had just crossed.
His hands were aglow with sparks and his mouth was curled up in a parody of a smile. Adrianna’s heart quickened and she guessed it mostly had to do with fear, not joy.
“I suggest you leave, if you want her to live.”
Suddenly she was pulled tightly against him and she felt something sharp dig at her neck. Seconds later she felt the blood leak slowly down her skin, warm and slow.
She saw the blue sparks on Sylar’s hand crackle and fade, like a flame extinguished.
“Kill him, Adrianna.”
“She can’t Gabriel, just like you can’t use your powers.”
The Boss smiled, hand pressing the knife in deeper.
“Does this remind you of anything, Sylar? I know you had no powers that day. I know Noah opened your throat with a packing knife. Sadly I couldn’t find any, but I’m sure you’ll still see the symbolism.”
Sylar took a step forward, flexing his fingers. But they didn’t glow. The Boss took this as a sign of aggression, sliding the knife briefly, meriting a small scream from Adrianna.
“Listen,” the Boss said with a smile, “This is what you are going to do. You are going to walk away slowly, and walk back into your cell. In a few hours, you’ll be sent away to a holding facility. You’ll leave and never come back. And she will live.”
“I know you’re one of us,” Sylar said, his words coming out in a rush, as if they had been caught in a storm and tossed about before running out of his mouth.
“Really now?”
“Yes, I found those records, that serum you pump into everyone here. At first I thought that that was all, but then I realized that science can’t do that. We can. We can force people to do our bidding. But these men were too numerous and they needed to be dulled or else you could never keep a hold on all of them.”
“You were drugging us?” Adrianna asked.
“He had to, or else his facility would fall apart. And he couldn’t have that. He had to stay ahead of the game, that way no one would see that he was just like the rest of us. Just like Nathan.”
“And who’s going to believe you? You’re a killer, I’m a highly place military official, a member of the government. Everyone loves me.”
“The thing about this place is that it’s bugged from head to toe. Well, except for the…”
“…storage rooms,” Adrianna finished with a smile.
“So all I have to do is go in there and collect the tape. I’m sure the news will run it. Those journalist, always so hungry for a scoop.”
Adrianna smiled. She could feel his grip loosening; he was going to let her go. She was going to walk free. A happy ending. She had been wrong.
“And James is always hungry for blood.”
Sylar turned in time to see a large man, about twice the size of any regular person, running towards him. Compared to him, the others rushing out of his way were like ants he picks out of his the soles of his shoes.
It was hard to not see the hunger in his eyes, the lust for blood. The men dodged out of his way, trying to avoid being seen by those hungry eyes. There was no use; Sylar was the only one he had in his sight.
And like an idiot, or perhaps he still believe he had his powers and stood a chance, he stood his ground.
James took no time to reach his target. Everyone watched as his meaty fist swung down in a large curve. Sylar quite predictably defied gravity, his body arcing through the air.
The Boss did not tug her away from the fighting. Instead, he watched it avidly, his smile brightening with every punch. Ad felt every connection between fist and skin as if she was the one being pounded like steak.
“Why can’t we go away?” she pleaded, trying not to sound desperate but failing.
“Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”
“No.”
“Well, I think this is a lot of fun. You should be taught to open your mind to new concepts.”
“What do you think you’re getting out of this?”
Sylar flew back against the wall, a red spot behind his head highlighted by the red alarm lights still flooding the halls.
“I get to torture two people by hurting one.”
He nodded and turned to Timothy who stood loyally by his side, his eyes avoiding Adrianna’s.
“How is this going to end, Timothy?”
“Bad,” he uttered. It was almost a whisper, the words just barely reaching her ears. And when they got there she understood as little as if she would have only seen his lips move.
“What?”
Timothy leaned to the side, pulling a gun from the hands of a soldier and tossing it towards Sylar. With his last little bit of energy, he reached out, catching it and pushing three bullets into the heart of the beast. James felt with a loud thump to the ground.
“What is going on, Timothy?”
“Loyalties change,” he said with a smile, not even fighting off the hands that reached to secure his arms.
The Boss cast a quick glance towards Sylar, watching his unconscious form, back against the wall.
“Your betrayal was useless. Your hero can’t even stand. And you’ll soon join him.”
He nodded towards a man who stepped closer, gun held out, barrel pointing at the back of Timothy’s head. He was shoved down roughly so that he knelt, facing the wall. The gun followed him.
“No, you’ll join me.”
Adrianna turned her face away before the gun detonated; it was just too much for her. She had never wanted to see such crimes, never wanted to be a part of them. She had wanted to be a lawyer, she wanted to be justice.
She did not want people to die for her.
She turned back, the gun was still silent. Timothy still knelt, face devoid of blood and while sweat lined his forehead.
“Get up,” the Boss said, once he seemed to think that he had tortured the man enough. Slowly, and on shaking knees, Timothy obeyed. It was painful to watch, a man so afraid he could barely control his own body. And he must have believed that the Boss was going to kill him, he looked as if he had seen his own death at the theater and knew it awaited him at home. She wrenched her eyes from the scene and looked to the wall where Sylar had once been pounded to a pulp. She could still see the blood, she could not, however, see Sylar.
She tried to look away but the Boss noticed her glance and he too noticed Sylar’s absence.
“Where is he?” he called out.
The crowd was silent. Some looked at the bulky body of James, lying at their feet with cold contempt, others with remorse. He was one of their colleagues. Or rather had been.
It could have been them lying dead on the floor.
“We’re leaving, right now. Keep her safe,” he stated. But he didn’t care about her safety, he was only worried about his own.
“And someone grab him,” he said with a nod in Timothy’s direction, “I’ve got special plans for him.”
They started running through the halls, the Boss’s hand still holding her upper arm roughly. At every corner they rounded, his hands would reinforce their grip, as if he feared Sylar would be around the corner, ready to hake her away.
But he was never there.
The barricade came after many twists and turns, many long endless corridors.
Fire. So strong and instantaneous some people got caught in its blazes. The group immediately backed away.
“He got out of Zach’s range,” some whispered while others insisted it had been spread with gasoline and matches. But everyone agreed that he had found them.
The acrid smoke was heavy already, staining the white walls with soot and twisting like wild animals in the air. It ran into the lungs of the gathered crowd, causing them to sputter and cough.
“Get away,” the Boss said, pulling Adrianna away from the flames.
Soon they were running away, ventilation keeping the hallways away from the flames clear of the dark smoke. Suddenly, to their right, a loud scream echoed. The men stopped, turning to look down the hallway. All the red lights but one were smashed out, leaving them with a faraway backlight silhouette. The men waited for no orders and quickly a round of bullets was empty into his body. He fell forward, men quickly running over and flipping the body onto its back.
“It isn’t Sylar,” they concluded and screamed towards the still group.
“No sh-”
They turned to see another man fall to his knees.
“He’s -”
Again, he was too quick for them to see.
“How is he getting around so fast?” one man asked, gun waving franticly as he looked from one side to the other,
“SIR?” asked a frantic voice.
The call came from the dark hallway.
“What?” inquired the Boss, more annoyed then curious.
“It’s Zach sir, he’s dead. We killed him.”
Pandemonium ensured, people began screaming, running down the hallways.
“Zach? Is he the one who’s doing this? Is he the one who is dampening our powers?” Adrianna asked the man who suddenly changed his grip on her arm.
The Boss simply looked away, rage turning him into a bomb with a short, lit fuse.
“Stay calm!” the Boss screamed. But very few obeyed, only the closest. Those who were out of his reach ran down the hallways, only screams returning.
“What now?” Timothy asked with a smile. His hands were still tied behind his back and his face looked more confident than the Boss’s
“Get me out of here, or I’ll kill her,” the Boss said, pulling Adrianna closer and tucking the knife under her chin.
“I don’t care about her, she isn’t my sister. I hardly know her. You can’t sway me that way. Besides, if you kill her, Sylar’s going to kill you. You don’t need to know the future to figure that out.”
“DO IT.”
Timothy’s eyes became glazed for a second, as if he was no longer in his body. Then he came back to.
“You want to get out?”
The voice was so familiar Adrianna’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She smiled, she was getting out alive.
Guns were quick to fire, but it was useless, you can’t kill the invincible man.
“The way I see it, there are two ways for this to go,” Sylar said, looking at the Boss with contempt. “Either you let me and Adrianna out and you might live, or I kill you know.”
“If I can’t have her no one can.”
The knife pressed in deeper and Adrianna saw red spots dance in the halls, as if amused by the current situation. This time blood flowed rapidly down her neck. The felt the liquid slip under her shirt and continue to follow its lazy path.
“No,” she told him. She wouldn’t let herself be killed, she was a weapon, she was a monster. It was time she acted like one.
She opened her body up, sucking greedily at his life. She felt him gasp and release her arm. That hand was useless now, the skin was brown and, judging by the way his arm simply hung from his body, the entire limb was now only a useless appendage secured to his body by tendons and skin.
But she had sucked very little energy out, enough to keep her standing but even then her steps were wobbly. But she knew that she could take his life so she spun to face him, but he was quicker, plunging his functioning arm complete with the knife, into her stomach. She looked down incredulously, thinking that this was impossible, that it wasn’t her stomach, the blood wasn’t hers, that she wasn’t standing in a puddle of her own life essence. This was someone else.
She was somewhere else.
She fell forward, an extended hand tipping her to the side so she lay on her shoulder.
Then the pain came and she knew it was her body, it was her blood. And she was dying.
Where were her powers, where was Sylar’s healing ability? Gone, everything was gone. Zach had taken them from her. Her fingers kneaded the skin, trying to jar herself awake with the pain. She held onto her raft, crying out for help. But the skies were clouding over and the light was getting dim.
The storm was here.
She looked over to see Sylar blasting people to bits, or that’s what it looked like, she wasn’t too sure if what she saw was real. He pushed towards her, his progress slow.
Her energy was the only thing left, the only thing keeping her eyes open, even if she was sure that she wasn’t much alive anymore.
She was just a shell.
She saw them more clearly now, people standing around, looking at the fighting, faces long as if disappointed. She had been their hope, their vessel of revenge, and now she had no more wind.
She saw the Boss, walking behind Sylar -still maybe a few feet away-, hand still holding the knife. He drew back his arm, aiming for the kill spot.
She wasn’t sure if it was her hand or someone else guiding her, but she grabbed the gun that had fallen next to her, and shot. She saw it plunge into Sylar and his witnessed his incredulous look, then she saw the Boss’s eyes widen as he looked down.
Right through.
And then, she saw no more.
¤ ¤ ¤
He heard a gurgle from behind him and spun to see the Boss lying in his blood.
“That bitch…”
Those were his last words. His eyes stared sightless towards Sylar. And for the first time in his life he felt true relief, as if a weight had been lifted from the world.
“Sylar,” a hand was lightly placed on his shoulder.
Timothy stood, eyes urgent, breath shallow.
“She’s dead,” was all Sylar could say.
He walked over, his feet begging him to run, but he could barely place one in front of the other. It was as if someone had gotten a hold of his heart and was holding it firmly, not letting it do its job.
Death had never meant this much.
He placed a hand on her cheek, still warm. She did not respond. Nor did he feel the painful tug of her powers, the way she greedily sucked him dry.
“No, no.”
He suddenly realized he was talking. His hands flexed and tightened at his sides before he pulled her from her puddle and tugged her closer.
“She’s dead,” Sylar said, his words coming out in a whoosh of air.
“Bring her back,” Timothy suggested.
“I can’t. I’m not a god. I’m just Gabriel. I’m…”
“You’re being an idiot.”
Timothy walked over, pulling a knife out of his pocket and cutting deeply in Adrianna’s arm.
“What-”
“Your blood should heal her if you hurry up.”
Sylar took the knife from Tony, pushing it into his arm. He placed his own arm on Adrianna’s forcing his wound to stay open.
The painful tug of her powers was a welcome feeling. So was the cough the wracked the body sprawled over his lap.
He heard a sob of relief and he wasn’t sure from who it came, nor did he care.
“I love you,” she said with a smile.
“I will never let you die.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it was as close as he was going to get.
Chapter name: 25 //Fighting in the Trenches
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Sylar, OCs
Pairing(s): Sylar/OC
Rating: NC-17
Summary: After the events of Villains, Sylar finds himself working, yet again, for a company. Just when he thinks that things might be different, he is sent on an assignment. Killings, he can handle, robberies, no problem, but, when he's asked to protect a woman and bring her safely back to the Corporation, he might have met his match.
A/N: LAST CHAPTER!
Epilogue should be up early next week, tuesday-ish.
made by me
Chapter Twenty Five// Fighting in the trenches
His hand tugged her roughly, shoulder wrenched almost out of its socket as she ducked and weaved through the crowd, led like a dog. She had no choice but to obey, his hand held her wrist firmly, like a vice. She could have complained about the pain but she knew it would have been useless.
The door came apart in a flurry of torn metal and screams. It sounded like a war. Immediately gunfire erupted, screams hardly audible above the cacophony of battle.
Adrianna turned in time to see the inferno recede and a man walk into the flurry of bullets. But this man could not be Sylar. He might have the same hair, the same confident and deadly smirk, the same swagger, but it could not be him.
It could not be Sylar because, when the bullet bit into his chest, he staggered back. His eyes, like everyone else’s, fell to his chest, watching the red ring stretch across his shirt. His eyes expanded into two brown saucers and he looked hopeless, he looked lost.
He looked like a child.
The sound of battle fell as if someone had pressed mute. Everyone watched, transfixed, as the color drained from his face, as his lips fell.
She had been wrong, this was Sylar. And something was wrong.
He leaned back, as if his balance had gone awry, as if he was dying, and a cry pulled itself from Adrianna’s chest painfully. It felt as if it was her who had been shot, as if it was her blood coating the floor
“NO!”
She ripped her wrist away, pushing through the crowd. But no one fell out of her way, none collapsed in a pile of jerkied skin and bones. Her powers did not work, neither did Sylar’s.
Something was undeniably wrong.
His head whipped to her, like an elastic band suddenly released from its tension. Suddenly his eyes burned and he was standing tall, albeit hunched and face screwed up in pain. But he was alive, none the less. And, with a last departing nod, he stepped back out of the room.
“You will come with me,” the Boss hissed in her ear.
This time she felt oddly compelled to do so, letting him lead her away from the door, feet resisting but only barely. She watched with empty eyes as the men with guns filled out into the hall, following Sylar’s retreat. Men barked orders, those under their command obeyed, eyes fierce, guns blazing. They thought they were walking into sure victory.
And that was what Adrianna believed as she watched them advance, single file, like organized ants, through the door. Sylar was bleeding, he was almost dead.
He was mortal.
Something was wrong, she told herself, but her mind didn’t believe her, her body betrayed her. Was she giving up?
“Am I giving up?” she asked aloud, and amid the flurry of confusion and the sounds of battle, she doubted anyone would hear her. But the Boss did.
“You should.”
¤ ¤ ¤
Death was an acquaintance of his. Often he had brought along him along to meet his friends; sometimes it had even tried to shake his hand. But he was never fooled into following its path. He liked to think that he made his own route, his own decisions.
That he was his own ruler.
So, he had decided to steal Claire’s little talent. No need to worry about death when you are permanently immune to it.
But now he saw that death had as much of a hold on him as it did on others. In fact, by cheating him he had forged a link with death, one much more solid than those that only had to meet him once. Sylar met with him daily.
And now it was grinning at him, inviting him to join his other men and woman, his legion of dearly departed.
Never again, he had told himself.
And then he knew that there as something, or someone, in that room stopping him from entering. Someone dampening his powers.
Kill everyone then go for him.
It sounded easy enough. But things are never as easy as they sound.
¤ ¤ ¤
“Why can you touch me?”
“I have powerful friends.”
There was a pause during which he keyed open a door and shut it behind him. His lips curled into a smile as he heard what he must have deemed a satisfying click.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Away.”
“He’ll chase us, you know.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“You can’t kill him.”
“Yes I can. Didn’t you see that bullet go through him? He can die just like everyone else. He just needs a little bit of extra help.”
“You aren’t a man.”
That got his attention. His replies stopped being automatic, suddenly he was a person and not a recording. And he was furious.
“I am a man. I am much stronger than anyone in that room. Even your precious little prince charming,” at this Adrianna laughed.
“You have no courage; you need other people to protect you. You always have at least one person watching over you and making sure you’re safe. You can’t even lead properly.”
His fingers dug into her upper arm, fingers crushing the bone. She kept her lips sealed as best she could but was quite certain that her face turned red with effort.
“Who can lead now? Not Nathan. Not an old wrinkly senator. No one. In a time of war, good leaders are impossible to find. War turns us into tyrants, into blood hungry beats. How can we govern then?”
“You created the war.”
“Be realistic, Nathan started the war, I gave it weapons.”
“Who’s the guilty party then, hmm? Is it the one who throws the bombs or the one who makes them?”
“And what makes you think you have the right to the accuse others of being right or wrong? Are you older, are you wiser?”
“I might just be a soldier, but the real war is fought in the trenches. Not in offices. You wash your hands clean of us when you send us to war. You should know how dirty your hands have become.”
“What exactly do you suggest I do?”
“I suggest you let her go.”
Both heads turned to face Sylar, standing on the threshold of the doorway they had just crossed.
His hands were aglow with sparks and his mouth was curled up in a parody of a smile. Adrianna’s heart quickened and she guessed it mostly had to do with fear, not joy.
“I suggest you leave, if you want her to live.”
Suddenly she was pulled tightly against him and she felt something sharp dig at her neck. Seconds later she felt the blood leak slowly down her skin, warm and slow.
She saw the blue sparks on Sylar’s hand crackle and fade, like a flame extinguished.
“Kill him, Adrianna.”
“She can’t Gabriel, just like you can’t use your powers.”
The Boss smiled, hand pressing the knife in deeper.
“Does this remind you of anything, Sylar? I know you had no powers that day. I know Noah opened your throat with a packing knife. Sadly I couldn’t find any, but I’m sure you’ll still see the symbolism.”
Sylar took a step forward, flexing his fingers. But they didn’t glow. The Boss took this as a sign of aggression, sliding the knife briefly, meriting a small scream from Adrianna.
“Listen,” the Boss said with a smile, “This is what you are going to do. You are going to walk away slowly, and walk back into your cell. In a few hours, you’ll be sent away to a holding facility. You’ll leave and never come back. And she will live.”
“I know you’re one of us,” Sylar said, his words coming out in a rush, as if they had been caught in a storm and tossed about before running out of his mouth.
“Really now?”
“Yes, I found those records, that serum you pump into everyone here. At first I thought that that was all, but then I realized that science can’t do that. We can. We can force people to do our bidding. But these men were too numerous and they needed to be dulled or else you could never keep a hold on all of them.”
“You were drugging us?” Adrianna asked.
“He had to, or else his facility would fall apart. And he couldn’t have that. He had to stay ahead of the game, that way no one would see that he was just like the rest of us. Just like Nathan.”
“And who’s going to believe you? You’re a killer, I’m a highly place military official, a member of the government. Everyone loves me.”
“The thing about this place is that it’s bugged from head to toe. Well, except for the…”
“…storage rooms,” Adrianna finished with a smile.
“So all I have to do is go in there and collect the tape. I’m sure the news will run it. Those journalist, always so hungry for a scoop.”
Adrianna smiled. She could feel his grip loosening; he was going to let her go. She was going to walk free. A happy ending. She had been wrong.
“And James is always hungry for blood.”
Sylar turned in time to see a large man, about twice the size of any regular person, running towards him. Compared to him, the others rushing out of his way were like ants he picks out of his the soles of his shoes.
It was hard to not see the hunger in his eyes, the lust for blood. The men dodged out of his way, trying to avoid being seen by those hungry eyes. There was no use; Sylar was the only one he had in his sight.
And like an idiot, or perhaps he still believe he had his powers and stood a chance, he stood his ground.
James took no time to reach his target. Everyone watched as his meaty fist swung down in a large curve. Sylar quite predictably defied gravity, his body arcing through the air.
The Boss did not tug her away from the fighting. Instead, he watched it avidly, his smile brightening with every punch. Ad felt every connection between fist and skin as if she was the one being pounded like steak.
“Why can’t we go away?” she pleaded, trying not to sound desperate but failing.
“Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”
“No.”
“Well, I think this is a lot of fun. You should be taught to open your mind to new concepts.”
“What do you think you’re getting out of this?”
Sylar flew back against the wall, a red spot behind his head highlighted by the red alarm lights still flooding the halls.
“I get to torture two people by hurting one.”
He nodded and turned to Timothy who stood loyally by his side, his eyes avoiding Adrianna’s.
“How is this going to end, Timothy?”
“Bad,” he uttered. It was almost a whisper, the words just barely reaching her ears. And when they got there she understood as little as if she would have only seen his lips move.
“What?”
Timothy leaned to the side, pulling a gun from the hands of a soldier and tossing it towards Sylar. With his last little bit of energy, he reached out, catching it and pushing three bullets into the heart of the beast. James felt with a loud thump to the ground.
“What is going on, Timothy?”
“Loyalties change,” he said with a smile, not even fighting off the hands that reached to secure his arms.
The Boss cast a quick glance towards Sylar, watching his unconscious form, back against the wall.
“Your betrayal was useless. Your hero can’t even stand. And you’ll soon join him.”
He nodded towards a man who stepped closer, gun held out, barrel pointing at the back of Timothy’s head. He was shoved down roughly so that he knelt, facing the wall. The gun followed him.
“No, you’ll join me.”
Adrianna turned her face away before the gun detonated; it was just too much for her. She had never wanted to see such crimes, never wanted to be a part of them. She had wanted to be a lawyer, she wanted to be justice.
She did not want people to die for her.
She turned back, the gun was still silent. Timothy still knelt, face devoid of blood and while sweat lined his forehead.
“Get up,” the Boss said, once he seemed to think that he had tortured the man enough. Slowly, and on shaking knees, Timothy obeyed. It was painful to watch, a man so afraid he could barely control his own body. And he must have believed that the Boss was going to kill him, he looked as if he had seen his own death at the theater and knew it awaited him at home. She wrenched her eyes from the scene and looked to the wall where Sylar had once been pounded to a pulp. She could still see the blood, she could not, however, see Sylar.
She tried to look away but the Boss noticed her glance and he too noticed Sylar’s absence.
“Where is he?” he called out.
The crowd was silent. Some looked at the bulky body of James, lying at their feet with cold contempt, others with remorse. He was one of their colleagues. Or rather had been.
It could have been them lying dead on the floor.
“We’re leaving, right now. Keep her safe,” he stated. But he didn’t care about her safety, he was only worried about his own.
“And someone grab him,” he said with a nod in Timothy’s direction, “I’ve got special plans for him.”
They started running through the halls, the Boss’s hand still holding her upper arm roughly. At every corner they rounded, his hands would reinforce their grip, as if he feared Sylar would be around the corner, ready to hake her away.
But he was never there.
The barricade came after many twists and turns, many long endless corridors.
Fire. So strong and instantaneous some people got caught in its blazes. The group immediately backed away.
“He got out of Zach’s range,” some whispered while others insisted it had been spread with gasoline and matches. But everyone agreed that he had found them.
The acrid smoke was heavy already, staining the white walls with soot and twisting like wild animals in the air. It ran into the lungs of the gathered crowd, causing them to sputter and cough.
“Get away,” the Boss said, pulling Adrianna away from the flames.
Soon they were running away, ventilation keeping the hallways away from the flames clear of the dark smoke. Suddenly, to their right, a loud scream echoed. The men stopped, turning to look down the hallway. All the red lights but one were smashed out, leaving them with a faraway backlight silhouette. The men waited for no orders and quickly a round of bullets was empty into his body. He fell forward, men quickly running over and flipping the body onto its back.
“It isn’t Sylar,” they concluded and screamed towards the still group.
“No sh-”
They turned to see another man fall to his knees.
“He’s -”
Again, he was too quick for them to see.
“How is he getting around so fast?” one man asked, gun waving franticly as he looked from one side to the other,
“SIR?” asked a frantic voice.
The call came from the dark hallway.
“What?” inquired the Boss, more annoyed then curious.
“It’s Zach sir, he’s dead. We killed him.”
Pandemonium ensured, people began screaming, running down the hallways.
“Zach? Is he the one who’s doing this? Is he the one who is dampening our powers?” Adrianna asked the man who suddenly changed his grip on her arm.
The Boss simply looked away, rage turning him into a bomb with a short, lit fuse.
“Stay calm!” the Boss screamed. But very few obeyed, only the closest. Those who were out of his reach ran down the hallways, only screams returning.
“What now?” Timothy asked with a smile. His hands were still tied behind his back and his face looked more confident than the Boss’s
“Get me out of here, or I’ll kill her,” the Boss said, pulling Adrianna closer and tucking the knife under her chin.
“I don’t care about her, she isn’t my sister. I hardly know her. You can’t sway me that way. Besides, if you kill her, Sylar’s going to kill you. You don’t need to know the future to figure that out.”
“DO IT.”
Timothy’s eyes became glazed for a second, as if he was no longer in his body. Then he came back to.
“You want to get out?”
The voice was so familiar Adrianna’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She smiled, she was getting out alive.
Guns were quick to fire, but it was useless, you can’t kill the invincible man.
“The way I see it, there are two ways for this to go,” Sylar said, looking at the Boss with contempt. “Either you let me and Adrianna out and you might live, or I kill you know.”
“If I can’t have her no one can.”
The knife pressed in deeper and Adrianna saw red spots dance in the halls, as if amused by the current situation. This time blood flowed rapidly down her neck. The felt the liquid slip under her shirt and continue to follow its lazy path.
“No,” she told him. She wouldn’t let herself be killed, she was a weapon, she was a monster. It was time she acted like one.
She opened her body up, sucking greedily at his life. She felt him gasp and release her arm. That hand was useless now, the skin was brown and, judging by the way his arm simply hung from his body, the entire limb was now only a useless appendage secured to his body by tendons and skin.
But she had sucked very little energy out, enough to keep her standing but even then her steps were wobbly. But she knew that she could take his life so she spun to face him, but he was quicker, plunging his functioning arm complete with the knife, into her stomach. She looked down incredulously, thinking that this was impossible, that it wasn’t her stomach, the blood wasn’t hers, that she wasn’t standing in a puddle of her own life essence. This was someone else.
She was somewhere else.
She fell forward, an extended hand tipping her to the side so she lay on her shoulder.
Then the pain came and she knew it was her body, it was her blood. And she was dying.
Where were her powers, where was Sylar’s healing ability? Gone, everything was gone. Zach had taken them from her. Her fingers kneaded the skin, trying to jar herself awake with the pain. She held onto her raft, crying out for help. But the skies were clouding over and the light was getting dim.
The storm was here.
She looked over to see Sylar blasting people to bits, or that’s what it looked like, she wasn’t too sure if what she saw was real. He pushed towards her, his progress slow.
Her energy was the only thing left, the only thing keeping her eyes open, even if she was sure that she wasn’t much alive anymore.
She was just a shell.
She saw them more clearly now, people standing around, looking at the fighting, faces long as if disappointed. She had been their hope, their vessel of revenge, and now she had no more wind.
She saw the Boss, walking behind Sylar -still maybe a few feet away-, hand still holding the knife. He drew back his arm, aiming for the kill spot.
She wasn’t sure if it was her hand or someone else guiding her, but she grabbed the gun that had fallen next to her, and shot. She saw it plunge into Sylar and his witnessed his incredulous look, then she saw the Boss’s eyes widen as he looked down.
Right through.
And then, she saw no more.
¤ ¤ ¤
He heard a gurgle from behind him and spun to see the Boss lying in his blood.
“That bitch…”
Those were his last words. His eyes stared sightless towards Sylar. And for the first time in his life he felt true relief, as if a weight had been lifted from the world.
“Sylar,” a hand was lightly placed on his shoulder.
Timothy stood, eyes urgent, breath shallow.
“She’s dead,” was all Sylar could say.
He walked over, his feet begging him to run, but he could barely place one in front of the other. It was as if someone had gotten a hold of his heart and was holding it firmly, not letting it do its job.
Death had never meant this much.
He placed a hand on her cheek, still warm. She did not respond. Nor did he feel the painful tug of her powers, the way she greedily sucked him dry.
“No, no.”
He suddenly realized he was talking. His hands flexed and tightened at his sides before he pulled her from her puddle and tugged her closer.
“She’s dead,” Sylar said, his words coming out in a whoosh of air.
“Bring her back,” Timothy suggested.
“I can’t. I’m not a god. I’m just Gabriel. I’m…”
“You’re being an idiot.”
Timothy walked over, pulling a knife out of his pocket and cutting deeply in Adrianna’s arm.
“What-”
“Your blood should heal her if you hurry up.”
Sylar took the knife from Tony, pushing it into his arm. He placed his own arm on Adrianna’s forcing his wound to stay open.
The painful tug of her powers was a welcome feeling. So was the cough the wracked the body sprawled over his lap.
He heard a sob of relief and he wasn’t sure from who it came, nor did he care.
“I love you,” she said with a smile.
“I will never let you die.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it was as close as he was going to get.