Fic: Electric Firefly (Chapter 4)
Electric Firefly
Summary: The Company sets her teeth on edge, but most of the time it helps control the chaos, that darkness within her.
Author’s Note: Sequel to “Just Another Day on the Job.” Elle-centric. Sylar/Elle. thanks to faded_facade for mad beta skills as well as for helping me to talk through the storyline and calm my newbie writer’s jitters. ;) Reviews = love.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes. Duh. But I'm jelly of NBC.
Rating: PG 13- Mature Rating for a little swearing and violence and sexual content...and the dark mind that is psycho Elle Bishop.
Spoiler alert: Volume 1 for now
Chapter 4
Elle slams the heavy office door. Daddy wasn’t happy. But he’s never been very happy with her, for as long as Elle can remember anyways. She was always a disappointment. No matter how hard she tries, she would simply be a failure in his eyes. And yet, she always works for his approval knowing that she'll never get it. It was a hard habit that she couldn't break.
One psychiatrist postulated that perhaps deep down, Elle is unconsciously guilty about the electrical accident…the one that ended with Mommy’s and Grandma’s deaths. He explained that this underlying emotion of guilt forces Elle to continually seek approval from Daddy and most likely is a major contributor to her instability. Elle hadn’t been too keen of the doctor’s opinion and made sure that he knew exactly how she felt about his stupid, psychoanalysis interpretation. She had screamed into his ashes that maybe she is “unstable” because of all of the unnatural tests she underwent as a child, having her memories constantly wiped clean, or simply the electricity fucking up her neurological wiring. And maybe she’s trying to win Daddy over, not because she feels guilty, but because it fills up her time and satisfies her boredom, that nagging emptiness.
Elle leans up against the office door and begins to inspect her nails. Her normally pristine and polished nails are damaged and dirty. Dainty fingers with unusually chipped nails mindlessly straightens out her light gray dress back to its smooth perfection. After the recent undercover work, she is going to have to get a new manicure. Easy to fix…unlike her performance on the job. Although Daddy is disappointed, he didn’t immediately pull her off the case. Which means that this assignment is incredibly important. During her meeting with Daddy this morning, Elle learned that Kirby Plaza is where the shit is going to go down. The Brat Pack is supposed to meet in the public square later this afternoon. At least that’s what the precogs on Daddy’s team have pointed to. The various fortune tellers are having conflicting visions of the future events, but each ending includes a big, glorious bang. Elle is going to have to redeem herself by gathering information from spying on Boy Scout and his new friends. Daddy needs to know what diabolical plans Angela and Linderman have up their sleeves and Elle is going to fetch that knowledge and bring it back to him like a good agent, a good daughter. Maybe then she can acquire Daddy's love and approval. But Elle knows that it’s doubtful.
Elle pushes her body off the door and begins to stalk down the hallway. Her black shiny stilettos clank sharply on the tile floor, creating an eerie rhythm. The electrical agent turns the corner and is greeted by an unexpected surprise.
Sylar.
Elle completely freezes at the sight of the serial killer. Her mouth unconsciously drops open in reaction to this random and spontaneous occurrence.
They both stay motionless, staring at one another in silence for a number of long heartbeats.
Although Elle appears to be calm and stoic on the outside, she is anything but within. Scientists say that the brain chemistry of infatuation and lust is akin to mental illness- which gives new meaning to “madly in love.” The pleasure center of her brain structures light up, releasing dopamine and a number of different endorphins, creating a heightened sense of awareness, intense energy, exhilaration, and focused attention. A million thoughts flood her psyche, incoherent cognitions and images of blood, pain, and sex run fast, repeating, overlapping and swirling together. Not only is there a rapid firing of activity in her neurochemistry and racing thoughts, Elle’s special ability is sparking and circulating throughout her entire core, buzzing in excitement. The increase in excitement… with the combination of her internal predatory beast anticipating a fight-or-flight situation, cause Elle’s pupils to dilate so large that her eyes appear completely black.
“I found you.” The watchmaker growls triumphantly, breaking the silence. His words echo down the hallway. The sound of his deep, powerful voice makes things low in Elle's abdomen tighten in pleasure.
Elle cocks her head to her side, bangs sweeping over her eyes.
She licks her lips and purrs, “What took you so long?”
The waiting made up her existence. A life of always watching him, but never touching. Elle had pondered for countless hours what the world is like on the other side of the mirror. And now, to her surprise and pure delight, she is able to pass through the looking glass.
Before Elle can take a breath in, Sylar is suddenly inches in front of her. His scent hits her like a battering ram, forces her to close her eyes. He smells powerful…musky with a hit of vanilla mixed with exotic spices. The effect of simply his natural scent makes her feel intoxicated, like he‘s putting a spell on her.
Elle’s eyes snap open as the watchmaker roughly grabs her by the waist with his large hands and violently slams her against the wall. Elle hits her head so hard she can almost see stars around the edges of her vision. Sylar’s lips form into a smile as his hands tighten their grip, digging into her stomach. Elle stays still and passive as she allows him to repeatedly hit her over and over against the wall. Her petite body is bruised and broken underneath his powerful hands. Goosebumps spread across her arms.
The sadistic blond has historically been the dominatrix, savoring the pain and screams of her victims. But the new sensations of being the one powerless and in a subordinate position is unbelievably exhilarating. Electricity surges throughout her system in anticipation of the continuous blows. Her energy is humming softly and playfully against the watchmaker’s skin, urging him to continue. His aggression makes her nipples harden.
Elle has always prided herself on being an outsider, the lone wolf... but now... Elle has the chance to finally connect with someone. Connect on a level that most people could never understand. A unity formed on pain and blood and pure chaos. Her beast finally found an equal, a mate, who is just as psychotic and twisted and dark. The beating fills her up with pleasure, temporarily pacifying that hollow numbness in her chest. The watchmaker makes her feel alive, human.
Elle’s breathing is fast, hard, and building up to something more.
Sylar continues to throw her against the wall like a rag doll. Over and over again until Elle is confident that she has a concussion. Elle’s existence has been a strange balance of pleasure and pain, and right now she is welcoming both. She smiles silently and takes the beating obediently. Elle is a control freak, and right now she let’s go of all of her careful control, making her vulnerable and open. It was like willingly walking through a minefield blindfolded. Elle finally feels completely and utterly free.
The experience is orgasmic. The sensation catches Elle in surprise, a burst that bows her spine and makes her cry out. It washes over her in a skin-shifting, nerve-jumping dance as if every part of her were trying to leave every other part behind. For a shining second, Elle feels skinless, boneless, nothing but the warm roll of pleasure and pain.
Sylar releases her suddenly and she comes crashing down onto the shiny floor. Warm, thick blood slowly drips down her face. Elle can feel the internal beast’s pleasure from the afterglow like a line of warmth throughout her body. A shudder runs from her toes to head, and her satisfied breath falls out in a long sigh.
Laughter bubbles out of her lips from the pure bliss. Her usual playful, childish giggles are always forced, make-believe. But this is different. This is an uncontrollable… authentic experience. It is a loud, full throat laughter that hurts her stomach. Smile lines form around her eyes for the first time.
Sylar violently lifts her up by her throat and silences the sound with his mouth. Full lips kiss her rough and fast. His mouth searches her as if he were climbing inside. The serial killer throws his weight against her, successfully trapping her against the wall. Elle lifts her legs up and straddles his body, feels him hard and ready even through his pants. The sensation makes her bite down hard on his bottom lip. The taste of metallic blood fills her mouth, bringing a low rumble from her throat. The beast comes full surface.
Sylar jerks his head back and touches his bleeding lip tenderly with his tongue.
Blue eyes interlock with brown. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Elle searches Sylar’s eyes, expecting to see that familiar darkness. That psychotic beast that she has obsessed over the last few weeks.
But something isn’t right. All she sees are chocolate orbs, perfect replications. A perfect lie.
The lucid dream is shattered.
Elle pushes the imposter hard on the chest with an intense surge of electricity.
She screams wordlessly as she burns the image of her desire to smoke and ashes.
The body disappears like magic.
“What’s the matter, baby? Too aggressive?” Sylar laughs from behind her, but it is not the same sound that Elle has fantasized over and over in her mind.
Elle whirls around, curls her lips back and hisses, “Candice.”
The illusion of Sylar crosses his arms and wiggles his nose, like a genie.
Sylar’s form shifts to that of the brunette special in commando boots and a short pleated skirt. Candice is always validating Elle’s inherent mistrust of others. Elle thinks that she should be upset, even feel violated, but she’s not.
“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” Candice smiles as she closes the distance between them.
“Is this how you get action, by pretending to be someone? You are pathetic.” Elle growls, electricity leaking out of her eyes.
Candice doesn’t react the way that Elle had expected. Instead, the illusionist’s face is suddenly raw. She‘s staring at Elle‘s lips, eyes filled with desire.
“Come on, Elle. Don’t you see, I’m just like you…we‘re the same.”
Elle raises an eyebrow at the illusionist‘s comment.
“Any connection between your reality and mine is purely coincidental.” Elle replies coldly. “If I had a Psychos-R-Us store, I wouldn’t let you in. ‘Cause in the end, behind the lies and pretty illusions of a ruthless killer, all you really are is a bitter, fat cow who nobody loves.”
Candice jerks back as if Elle had slapped her. She narrows her eyes, “You know, when you actually come face to face with him, he’d probably fuck you and then rip your head open. Maybe at the same time. Especially after everything you’ve done and all. But considering how sick you are, I bet you‘d like it.”
Elle responds with no emotion, “Perhaps.”
“Sociopathic, nymphomaniac, sadomasochist freak,” Candice screams, loosing control.
Candice throws her hands over her eyes and takes in a breath. When she calms herself down, her lips form into an evil smile, “How about another game? Something more familiar…”
Candice disappears. The hallway shifts into a familiar gray, concrete room. Level five. Elle turns around to find a young child in pig trails and a white dress.
“Please. Make the pain stop.” The young girl begs, blue eyes wide and scared. “Please, help me.”
Electricity begins to leak from out of the child’s eyes, spilling across every inch of her body. The room shines bright with blue sparks.
“I can’t control it. It hurts. I wanna to go home.” The child screams in agony, “Daddy is going to be so mad.”
A group of scientists run into the room and strap the child into a chair.
One of the doctors replies as he prepares a needle, “Don’t worry honey, this is going to make it all better.”
Candice is recreating one of Elle’s childhood traumas that was erased from her memory.
Elle watches the scene and doesn’t feel a thing. Nothing at all.
Elle yells, “You’re wasting your time with the pretty illusions.”
Candice‘s voice whispers throughout the room. “I can make you experience things that will make you tear your own eyes out.”
The younger version of Elle disappears, to be replaced by something out of the painting The Garden of Earthly Delights. Most sane people would probably go insane with Candice’s projections. Elle is surrounded by images of naked bodies being ripped apart by demonic, dark creatures. The stuff of nightmares.
Is this Candice’s idea of scaring Elle? Poor Candice forgets who she is dealing with. The images before her merely match Elle's internal state of being. Chaos.
“Pallor tricks. You should consider performing at birthday parties.” Elle jeers.
Elle stalks the room filled with blood, dying victims, and devils. Although she can’t see Candice, she knows that the magician is nearby. One of the limitations of manipulating how others perceive reality is that you have to be in a certain proximately of the victim. For most people, having one’s senses distorted makes it difficult to find a target. But Elle is not most people. She closes her eyes, takes in a deep breath, and calms her body and mind until she has come to perfect clarity.
Like a snake, Elle’s hand snaps forward with liquid speed and grabs Candice by the throat. The illusionist’s form reappears while the images of hell fade. She can’t maintain the special effects with the intense physical pain. Elle wants to squeeze tight, needs to hear the sound of her windpipe breaking in half. Candice’s eyes are wide, her face turning an interesting shade of purple.
The electrical agent knows that the illusionist is the new pet favorite of Linderman. And Elle can’t be pissing off the head of the Company, drawing attention to herself and her super secret mission. Elle releases Candice’s throat, the woman falls to the floor, coughing hard.
Candice flashes a defiant smile at Elle. She shifts into the body of a tall, slender blond woman with hard eyes. “As much as this has been fun…I actually have work to do.”
Candice turns on her heels and flees the scene without looking back.
“Consuming five cheeseburgers doesn’t constitute as work!” Elle yells down the hallway.
Elle rubs her temples, a headache forming underneath the skin. She wonders to herself just how mad Daddy and Linderman would be if she turns the illusionist into ashes for real.
Author’s Note: What did you all think? This was Sylar/Elle action…kinda… in a dark, fucked up way. Lol. I heart reviews! ;P