FIC: Sylar and the Siren
Title: Sylar and the Siren
Rating: PG
Summary: Sylar finds a woman with an extraordinary ability, and Sylar's curiosity gets the best of him. Instead of taking it right away, he forces her to give him a preview. Will he be able to resist her?
Spoilers: Very small, very missable, spoilers from seasons 1-3.
---
“God, look at them all,” he thought aloud, staring at the mass of people outside of the glass. Pressing his forehead against the cold window, his eyes darted from one person to the next. They were all so… normal.
So unaware of the new developments going on around them.
Sure, they knew about Sylar. Most everyone in the world knew about him. Though the majority of people knew him as the crazed serial killer who sliced people’s heads open and stole pieces of their brains. The normal people had no idea… They had no clue what he was capable of, and what he was really doing. To them, the people he’d killed were the same as them. That made them scared. It made them shiver in their jammies when they heard about the newest victim on the late-night news.
No, they had no idea. In truth, they were in no danger at all. They weren’t important. They were like ants, and Sylar was the magnifying glass… He could burn them all if he wanted. But no, he didn’t want the normal ones. There was nothing special about a regular ant.
It was the difference that Sylar coveted. It was the difference that he craved.
It was satisfying, knowing that they were afraid of him. But they weren’t his concern. They were just there. They were weak.
The only problem was that the special ones looked like the normal ones. If only there was a way for him to find them. Unfortunately, little Molly was out of his reach. He had a few files tucked away from Bennet that he planned to make use of, but those powers weren’t nearly enough to satisfy him. He needed more people with powers. He needed more “special” people.
His gaze moved to his left, landing on a petite brunette tied to a desk chair. “Like you.” He whispered, slowly pushing himself away from the window, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
The woman shook her head, her arms jerking at the rope binds that held her captive. “Like me, what?” She whispered. “I’m nothing! You don’t want me!” She was so hysterical it was funny. Sylar grinned, taking a few steps towards her. He really should have put some tape over her mouth, or gagged her, but he wanted to see the extent of her ability… If it could really sway him as much as he’d seen on others.
This woman… This woman Sylar nicknamed ‘the siren’. Her name was one of the very few he’d remembered from Mohinder’s mentionings, but he hadn’t been able to find her until now. This woman’s power was incredible. She was like the sirens in Greek legend - the ones from the Herculean stories - the ones who had the power to make a man mad by letting a soft tune escape from their lips.
What surprised him was that the woman in front of him was nothing great. Regular, sort of dry brown hair, fair skin, petite form… No slim, tight stomach with voluptuous curves as the stories described. She was truly the average Jane. There was nothing sensual about her. She was just… plain.
He wasn’t even sure she knew exactly what she could do. But her voice… Just a small hum and a man’s attention would snap to her and suddenly she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. Now Sylar… Sylar was no singer. He could scream metal and screamo music with the best of them, and he could sing a pretty good tune. But his intonation was just average, and his voice was nothing people would want to stop and listen to.
“I’ll scream!” The woman threatened with trembling lips.
Sylar leaned forward, putting his hands on the ends of the chair’s arms, meeting her gaze. “Do it.” He whispered. “Scream for me…” Sylar stepped back, raising his hand, blue electricity shooting from the middle of his palm and into her thigh.
Her lovely lips parted instantly, her head tilted back, and a shrill, high pitched shriek came from her throat. The shriek filled the room, and seemed to bounce off of every surface, making it echo even more. Sylar’s eyes widened and he clapped his hands over his ears, ending the stream of electricity, falling backwards against the wall. It was terrible! It felt like his head was being split open! God, he couldn’t think! Clutching at his head, Sylar’s eyes darted to the window. It was starting to crack. “STOP!” He shouted. Her cries caught in her throat in surprise, and she began coughing and choking on it.
Sylar panted, gasping, as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. The woman’s eyes were were watery and cloudy with tears, with slightly blackened streaks staining her cheeks. “God, damn it…” He said loudly, his ears still ringing. Taking his hands away from the sides of his head, he was surprised to find blood on his fingers.
His eyes widened, and he put a hand to his ear again, pulling it back. Blood. Had she split some nerves in his head? Well, he could still hear… “Smart, Sylar. Smart.” He chastised himself aloud, shaking his head. “Getting a girl with a super-powered voice to scream when you have extremely acute hearing. Genius.”
Looking back at the woman, her small, frail body shaking, he slowly pushed himself up. “That’s quite a power you’ve got there-” he paused, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket, “-Juliet.” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, murmuring ‘no’ over and over.
Then, she started to sing.
Sylar stopped in his tracks, freezing, staring at her. Her eyes were closed, a pearly tear dropping from her long eyelashes, her lips moving as she hummed. Something to calm herself, he guessed. A prayer, maybe? Would it do anything, he wondered. Taking a step closer, he strained to hear her voice amidst the cars and people outside. Then he heard it. It was soft… like a mother’s croon. But it was sweet, too. Sort of like a flute.
He stared at her, wishing she would sing louder - wishing he could hear every word as it escaped her lips… There was such sorrow… such terror in her voice. It was weak, cracking in places… He wanted to cradle her in his arms, and make it all go away. He wanted to apologize for hurting her, and let her go. He wanted to make her smile… He felt the first prick of tears hit his eyes, and he found himself reaching out to her-
“Shit.” He said.
Stumbling over to the bed, he grabbed a roll of duct tape he’d set aside just in case, and ripped off a piece with quivering hands. He grabbed a piece of cloth next to it, lunging to her before her quiet song could cause him to actually do something. He forced her mouth open, shoved the cloth in, and smacked the tape over her mouth. Her tune silenced. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading, her entire body shaking in fear.
Sylar sat back on his heels, putting his head in his hands. To the normal bystander, it would look like he was in pain, or sorrowful. His shoulders were even shaking. But if they waited, they would soon be able to hear laughter escape from between his fingers. Looking up at her, he grinned maniacally, raising his hand, his index finger pointed at her forehead. The woman whimpered softly through the tape and the gag, and Sylar’s smile broadened. “I win.”
Rating: PG
Summary: Sylar finds a woman with an extraordinary ability, and Sylar's curiosity gets the best of him. Instead of taking it right away, he forces her to give him a preview. Will he be able to resist her?
Spoilers: Very small, very missable, spoilers from seasons 1-3.
---
“God, look at them all,” he thought aloud, staring at the mass of people outside of the glass. Pressing his forehead against the cold window, his eyes darted from one person to the next. They were all so… normal.
So unaware of the new developments going on around them.
Sure, they knew about Sylar. Most everyone in the world knew about him. Though the majority of people knew him as the crazed serial killer who sliced people’s heads open and stole pieces of their brains. The normal people had no idea… They had no clue what he was capable of, and what he was really doing. To them, the people he’d killed were the same as them. That made them scared. It made them shiver in their jammies when they heard about the newest victim on the late-night news.
No, they had no idea. In truth, they were in no danger at all. They weren’t important. They were like ants, and Sylar was the magnifying glass… He could burn them all if he wanted. But no, he didn’t want the normal ones. There was nothing special about a regular ant.
It was the difference that Sylar coveted. It was the difference that he craved.
It was satisfying, knowing that they were afraid of him. But they weren’t his concern. They were just there. They were weak.
The only problem was that the special ones looked like the normal ones. If only there was a way for him to find them. Unfortunately, little Molly was out of his reach. He had a few files tucked away from Bennet that he planned to make use of, but those powers weren’t nearly enough to satisfy him. He needed more people with powers. He needed more “special” people.
His gaze moved to his left, landing on a petite brunette tied to a desk chair. “Like you.” He whispered, slowly pushing himself away from the window, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
The woman shook her head, her arms jerking at the rope binds that held her captive. “Like me, what?” She whispered. “I’m nothing! You don’t want me!” She was so hysterical it was funny. Sylar grinned, taking a few steps towards her. He really should have put some tape over her mouth, or gagged her, but he wanted to see the extent of her ability… If it could really sway him as much as he’d seen on others.
This woman… This woman Sylar nicknamed ‘the siren’. Her name was one of the very few he’d remembered from Mohinder’s mentionings, but he hadn’t been able to find her until now. This woman’s power was incredible. She was like the sirens in Greek legend - the ones from the Herculean stories - the ones who had the power to make a man mad by letting a soft tune escape from their lips.
What surprised him was that the woman in front of him was nothing great. Regular, sort of dry brown hair, fair skin, petite form… No slim, tight stomach with voluptuous curves as the stories described. She was truly the average Jane. There was nothing sensual about her. She was just… plain.
He wasn’t even sure she knew exactly what she could do. But her voice… Just a small hum and a man’s attention would snap to her and suddenly she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. Now Sylar… Sylar was no singer. He could scream metal and screamo music with the best of them, and he could sing a pretty good tune. But his intonation was just average, and his voice was nothing people would want to stop and listen to.
“I’ll scream!” The woman threatened with trembling lips.
Sylar leaned forward, putting his hands on the ends of the chair’s arms, meeting her gaze. “Do it.” He whispered. “Scream for me…” Sylar stepped back, raising his hand, blue electricity shooting from the middle of his palm and into her thigh.
Her lovely lips parted instantly, her head tilted back, and a shrill, high pitched shriek came from her throat. The shriek filled the room, and seemed to bounce off of every surface, making it echo even more. Sylar’s eyes widened and he clapped his hands over his ears, ending the stream of electricity, falling backwards against the wall. It was terrible! It felt like his head was being split open! God, he couldn’t think! Clutching at his head, Sylar’s eyes darted to the window. It was starting to crack. “STOP!” He shouted. Her cries caught in her throat in surprise, and she began coughing and choking on it.
Sylar panted, gasping, as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. The woman’s eyes were were watery and cloudy with tears, with slightly blackened streaks staining her cheeks. “God, damn it…” He said loudly, his ears still ringing. Taking his hands away from the sides of his head, he was surprised to find blood on his fingers.
His eyes widened, and he put a hand to his ear again, pulling it back. Blood. Had she split some nerves in his head? Well, he could still hear… “Smart, Sylar. Smart.” He chastised himself aloud, shaking his head. “Getting a girl with a super-powered voice to scream when you have extremely acute hearing. Genius.”
Looking back at the woman, her small, frail body shaking, he slowly pushed himself up. “That’s quite a power you’ve got there-” he paused, pulling a slip of paper from his pocket, “-Juliet.” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, murmuring ‘no’ over and over.
Then, she started to sing.
Sylar stopped in his tracks, freezing, staring at her. Her eyes were closed, a pearly tear dropping from her long eyelashes, her lips moving as she hummed. Something to calm herself, he guessed. A prayer, maybe? Would it do anything, he wondered. Taking a step closer, he strained to hear her voice amidst the cars and people outside. Then he heard it. It was soft… like a mother’s croon. But it was sweet, too. Sort of like a flute.
He stared at her, wishing she would sing louder - wishing he could hear every word as it escaped her lips… There was such sorrow… such terror in her voice. It was weak, cracking in places… He wanted to cradle her in his arms, and make it all go away. He wanted to apologize for hurting her, and let her go. He wanted to make her smile… He felt the first prick of tears hit his eyes, and he found himself reaching out to her-
“Shit.” He said.
Stumbling over to the bed, he grabbed a roll of duct tape he’d set aside just in case, and ripped off a piece with quivering hands. He grabbed a piece of cloth next to it, lunging to her before her quiet song could cause him to actually do something. He forced her mouth open, shoved the cloth in, and smacked the tape over her mouth. Her tune silenced. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading, her entire body shaking in fear.
Sylar sat back on his heels, putting his head in his hands. To the normal bystander, it would look like he was in pain, or sorrowful. His shoulders were even shaking. But if they waited, they would soon be able to hear laughter escape from between his fingers. Looking up at her, he grinned maniacally, raising his hand, his index finger pointed at her forehead. The woman whimpered softly through the tape and the gag, and Sylar’s smile broadened. “I win.”