God and Man - Sylar - ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
100heroesfics and <lj site="livejournal.com
2009-04-28 17:59![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thewatchmaker
thewatchmakerCharacters: Sylar
Fandom: Heroes with Dresden Files Crossover
Rating: PG
Word Count: 625
Prompt: 6/100 #55 Spirit100heroesfics and "
Whosoever shed man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed. For in the image of God may deem man.: -Il Duce![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scifi_muses
Notes: AU Sylar - anytime after Villains
God and Man
It’d been years since I’d been to Chicago. Not since that science fair trip I took in high school. That had been a good trip, for once I was surrounded by the rest of the geek squad instead of the bullies on a long ride. Not to say we didn’t still prey on each other. Children are cruel. They will always look for the weakest link to exploit and torture. Fortunately in that crowd, I wasn’t the omega.
The wind whipped off the river, biting through my coat, sending a shiver down my spine. I missed the ice powers. When I had those, I was never cold. Now I drew my hands up to my face and blew on my fingers.
Like an addict I was going for another hit. I’d let it pass. Going for weeks since my last kill, but the hunger wasn’t fading. It never really did. It gnawed at my gut like a separate entity urging me to kill, to feed its need. Fighting it got me nothing, and I didn’t see a reason not to do what I wanted. Besides it was fun to watch the Company stooges and the Feds try to find me. They sucked at it.
There were three names on Elle’s phone living in the city, each one with a note telling me what they could do, and where they lived. The stooges might stink at catching me, but they were good at bagging and tagging the other specials. They saved me so much time. Not that I needed it. Thanks to Claire, I had all the time in the universe.
The church was old, but in a fairly decent neighborhood. St. Vincent’s would fit right into Queens where I’d gone to Mass all those years. Where Father Bertolli pretended to listen to my boring confessions, bet he’d pay attention now.
I took the steps two at a time. They were wide and sprawling, old style for little old ladies to totter up in their Sunday best. Inside I could smell the familiar scent of frankincense and roses, and the glow of candles lit the vestibule. I dabbed holy water on my forehead and made the sign of the cross. My prey was inside, one of the priests. I just had to find out which one, and relieve him of his unholy burden.
“Excuse me?” I asked a nun. “Sister, I’m looking for Father Douglas, Ryan Douglas.”
“Father Douglas is receiving confession,” she said, peering up to see my face. I let her. What did it matter to me if I killed two people of the cloth in God’s house? “The confessional is over there.”
“Thank you.” I focused my powers on her, and shoved her gently into a pew. Then I wrapped it tighter, finding a weak spot in her brain and popped a few well-chosen blood vessels. She was dead before I turned away. “Good day, sister.”
I slid into the booth, after waiting my turn. No one cared about the nun napping in the back pew. They might not until I was long gone. This was too easy. I settled onto the bench, and waited while the priest noticed me. “Forgive me Father,” I said from rote. “For I have sinned.”
The blood was pooling out of from beneath the door of the booth as I closed it. It wouldn’t be long before someone saw it, and went to investigate. I’d ripped through the screen separating me from the priest and then cut open his skull. I could feel his ability settling into my brain as I adjusted one synapse or another to make sure I didn’t lose anything else along the way.
I didn’t bother to cross myself on the way out.
Fandom: Heroes with Dresden Files Crossover
Rating: PG
Word Count: 625
Prompt: 6/100 #55 Spirit
100heroesfics and "Whosoever shed man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed. For in the image of God may deem man.: -Il Duce
scifi_musesNotes: AU Sylar - anytime after Villains
God and Man
It’d been years since I’d been to Chicago. Not since that science fair trip I took in high school. That had been a good trip, for once I was surrounded by the rest of the geek squad instead of the bullies on a long ride. Not to say we didn’t still prey on each other. Children are cruel. They will always look for the weakest link to exploit and torture. Fortunately in that crowd, I wasn’t the omega.
The wind whipped off the river, biting through my coat, sending a shiver down my spine. I missed the ice powers. When I had those, I was never cold. Now I drew my hands up to my face and blew on my fingers.
Like an addict I was going for another hit. I’d let it pass. Going for weeks since my last kill, but the hunger wasn’t fading. It never really did. It gnawed at my gut like a separate entity urging me to kill, to feed its need. Fighting it got me nothing, and I didn’t see a reason not to do what I wanted. Besides it was fun to watch the Company stooges and the Feds try to find me. They sucked at it.
There were three names on Elle’s phone living in the city, each one with a note telling me what they could do, and where they lived. The stooges might stink at catching me, but they were good at bagging and tagging the other specials. They saved me so much time. Not that I needed it. Thanks to Claire, I had all the time in the universe.
The church was old, but in a fairly decent neighborhood. St. Vincent’s would fit right into Queens where I’d gone to Mass all those years. Where Father Bertolli pretended to listen to my boring confessions, bet he’d pay attention now.
I took the steps two at a time. They were wide and sprawling, old style for little old ladies to totter up in their Sunday best. Inside I could smell the familiar scent of frankincense and roses, and the glow of candles lit the vestibule. I dabbed holy water on my forehead and made the sign of the cross. My prey was inside, one of the priests. I just had to find out which one, and relieve him of his unholy burden.
“Excuse me?” I asked a nun. “Sister, I’m looking for Father Douglas, Ryan Douglas.”
“Father Douglas is receiving confession,” she said, peering up to see my face. I let her. What did it matter to me if I killed two people of the cloth in God’s house? “The confessional is over there.”
“Thank you.” I focused my powers on her, and shoved her gently into a pew. Then I wrapped it tighter, finding a weak spot in her brain and popped a few well-chosen blood vessels. She was dead before I turned away. “Good day, sister.”
I slid into the booth, after waiting my turn. No one cared about the nun napping in the back pew. They might not until I was long gone. This was too easy. I settled onto the bench, and waited while the priest noticed me. “Forgive me Father,” I said from rote. “For I have sinned.”
The blood was pooling out of from beneath the door of the booth as I closed it. It wouldn’t be long before someone saw it, and went to investigate. I’d ripped through the screen separating me from the priest and then cut open his skull. I could feel his ability settling into my brain as I adjusted one synapse or another to make sure I didn’t lose anything else along the way.
I didn’t bother to cross myself on the way out.
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