Sylar - Gabriel Gray (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thewatchmaker) wrote2009-11-14 04:51 pm
thewatchmaker) wrote2009-11-14 04:51 pm
Entry tags:
I am Death Part 5 - the end
Characters: Sylar, Peter, Claire, the Haitian and Flint
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: R for violence
Word Count: 1500+
Prompt: Looks that Kill by Motley Crue for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scifi_muses
Notes: What happens after "I Have Become Death" from Sylar's POV. Inspired by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dailyheroes for August 20. This was supposed to be a one shot story, but Sylar had other ideas.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Peter and I cut through the casino, then down through the shopping mall. The tourists gave us a wide berth. I knew I was radiating – keep the fuck away – with every breath. I didn’t want to hurt anymore innocents. I already had the deaths of two-hundred-thousand on my soul, and I’d never ever be able to make up for that. I didn’t want to either. I wanted my revenge on Claire and then I wanted to die. I’d have Peter find a way to end me, so I could be with Noah. I had no reason to live, and without Noah to anchor me it was only a matter of time before I lost myself to the hunger.
The spa was behind a pair of ornate double doors meant like the rest of the tacky casino to look like it was part of an Egyptian tomb. Scantily clad women in profile, being waited on hand and foot by nubile mostly naked men. I doubted that’s what it looked like inside. I was fairly certain it would be filled with towel covered tables with pale, flabby housewives face down while plastic Barbie and Ken dolls massaged them with hot stones and creams. It was all fake, all make believe, and I despised them for being here.
The President of the United States was dead. Shouldn’t they care? Were Peter and I the only ones who did because he was our brother? I hate humans.
I could hear the moans of pleasure through the walls; feel the sated laziness radiating from the guests inside. They’d need to leave, and the best way to get a dozen lazy asses moving was fear. I wasn’t going to destroy the hotel, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t in the mood for a little showboating. I was grinning as I ripped both doors off their hinges with a wave of my hands. I sent them flying behind me crashing through a fountain and a 30 foot tall sheet of glass. The screams of the patrons, clutching their robes around their bodies as they rushed out and away from Peter and me, in their bare feet made me laugh out loud.
Closing my eyes I drank in their panic, using it to fuel my next move. Peter was hanging back, just as well he had no stomach for carnage he never did. “Make sure security stays out of my way, Peter. I don’t want to hurt anyone I don’t have to.”
“OK.” He nodded and moved to my flank, watching my back. I could feel his relief, because no matter how many times I said I wasn’t going to hurt anyone, he didn’t trust me. Nice to know he learned something in his past dealings with me. “I’ll watch your back, but seriously what’s she going to do shoot you? She knows that won’t work.”
As I step inside, a trio of specials came towards us. Two on me and one on Peter, I couldn’t tell what they could do, but they were obviously Claire’s bodyguards. Revolutionary’s needed to have thugs to watch their backs. A heavyset guy came charging at me, his hands blazing with blue fire. The other picked up one of the massage tables and hurled it at me, while the firestarter sent a torrent of flames my way.
The table flew back the way it came at double the speed she’d sent it at me, as I added my anger to the power of my telekinesis. She didn’t even try to duck, the table caught her in the face sending her careening through a fake pillar that broke in three pieces from the impact. She wasn’t going to get up again.
Flames flickered over my skin, and I screamed as I called up the ice power I’d stolen so long ago that I could barely remember ripping open Molly’s father’s skull for it. They weren’t screams of pain; no they were screams of joy. I could kill him too, and it wouldn’t mater. He was no more human than I was. Hoarfrost hit him in the face. I didn’t bother with his hands; instead I focused the extreme cold on his nose, mouth and eyes. He tried batting at the chilling cold as his face iced over, but by then it was too late. His eyes froze solid first, followed by his blood; I kept it up until his brain was rock hard before pulling back. He hit the ground in a heap, his head shattering in a shower of icy shards.
I didn’t watch Peter take care of his. If little brother couldn’t handle a single special on his own, what good was he to me? Behind us I could still hear the screaming and the sound of guards shouting, the action of automatic weapons being pulled from shoulder rigs as they came running towards us to stop me. I’d leave them to Peter too. He’d know what to do. He was good at playing with normals and not killing too many of them.
I dashed through the spa, looking for the elite private rooms where Claire Bennet would be having her work done. Why a girl who’d never age needed to go to a spa I didn’t know. I suppose she wanted to get her nails done to have Peter and Nathan’s blood scraped out from under them.
My hate preceded me. Anyone stupid enough to come near me screamed, clutching their heads in pain as my rage hit them. My empathy was out of control, and I didn’t give a rat’s ass.
“Claire!” I screamed her name, adding another stolen power to it, so the ground rumbled beneath my feet. In the warren of rooms, I found one last sealed door. Raising my hand, I blasted it open and strolled into the room where my beloved niece was just pulling up her leather pants.
“Sylar,” she spat my name. Her gun was on the table near her, but she didn’t bother to pick it up. She knew I’d stop any bullet before they could hit me. She wasn’t afraid. She was cold just like Angela would have been.
I raised my hand, calling on the nuclear power that I’d lost control of when she’d killed my son. I’d promised Peter I wouldn’t nuke the casino, but I had better control than that. I was going to use it to melt Claire an inch at a time before I dug into her brain to turn off her ability. I stalked toward her, reaching for her face, when she started laughing and my power died.
“Did you think I wouldn’t have protection that could stop you, Uncle Gabriel?”
The Haitian stepped from the curtained alcove behind Claire. His was face neutral as always, he never took sides. I wondered how rich he was from playing for all sides the way he did.
Claire gave me a smug look as she picked up her gun and aimed for my face. A shot rang out, and I watched as the blood spurted from the Haitian’s forehead.
“Do it, Sylar.” It was Peter standing behind me with someone’s gun in his hand. He shot again, this time catching Claire in the eye. “Kill that bitch.”
I crouched over Claire’s corpse watching as the bullet tumbled out of the empty eye socket and her eye started to reform. Placing her on top of the massage table, I used my power to hold her in place while I sliced her head open.
“Why bother?” She cried out in pain as I used my ability to crush a few ribs to shut her up. “You know I can’t die. You didn’t. Peter didn’t.”
“That’s because you’re stupid, Claire. I took your ability by digging in your brain. Now I’m going for that spot again, and I’m going to rip it out. You’ll die for good this time. After all that you’ve done it’s the least I can do. Bitch.” She screamed in anger as I found the spot. With a twist of my fingers, I ripped everything that made her special out of her brain, cooking it to ashes in my fingers that I flushed down the drain.
Peter and I waited, while casino security and SWAT teams figured out how to get to us, but Claire didn’t come back. She was gone. “I want you to do it to me now, Peter. You watched. You know what to destroy, so I can die.”
“No Gabriel,” He said, reaching over and taking my hand. “You’re all I’ve got left. We’re all we’ve got left. We’ll get through this together.”
“I don’t want to be like this, Peter. I don’t want to be Sylar.”
“I know, Gabriel.” A canister of tear gas came tumbling into the room. “I’ll take care of you, but not here.”
We appeared on a pristine black sand beach, the water was so blue that it hurt my eyes. Peter wrapped his arms around me, and I cried for my son and our brother one more time.
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: R for violence
Word Count: 1500+
Prompt: Looks that Kill by Motley Crue for
scifi_musesNotes: What happens after "I Have Become Death" from Sylar's POV. Inspired by
dailyheroes for August 20. This was supposed to be a one shot story, but Sylar had other ideas. Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Peter and I cut through the casino, then down through the shopping mall. The tourists gave us a wide berth. I knew I was radiating – keep the fuck away – with every breath. I didn’t want to hurt anymore innocents. I already had the deaths of two-hundred-thousand on my soul, and I’d never ever be able to make up for that. I didn’t want to either. I wanted my revenge on Claire and then I wanted to die. I’d have Peter find a way to end me, so I could be with Noah. I had no reason to live, and without Noah to anchor me it was only a matter of time before I lost myself to the hunger.
The spa was behind a pair of ornate double doors meant like the rest of the tacky casino to look like it was part of an Egyptian tomb. Scantily clad women in profile, being waited on hand and foot by nubile mostly naked men. I doubted that’s what it looked like inside. I was fairly certain it would be filled with towel covered tables with pale, flabby housewives face down while plastic Barbie and Ken dolls massaged them with hot stones and creams. It was all fake, all make believe, and I despised them for being here.
The President of the United States was dead. Shouldn’t they care? Were Peter and I the only ones who did because he was our brother? I hate humans.
I could hear the moans of pleasure through the walls; feel the sated laziness radiating from the guests inside. They’d need to leave, and the best way to get a dozen lazy asses moving was fear. I wasn’t going to destroy the hotel, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t in the mood for a little showboating. I was grinning as I ripped both doors off their hinges with a wave of my hands. I sent them flying behind me crashing through a fountain and a 30 foot tall sheet of glass. The screams of the patrons, clutching their robes around their bodies as they rushed out and away from Peter and me, in their bare feet made me laugh out loud.
Closing my eyes I drank in their panic, using it to fuel my next move. Peter was hanging back, just as well he had no stomach for carnage he never did. “Make sure security stays out of my way, Peter. I don’t want to hurt anyone I don’t have to.”
“OK.” He nodded and moved to my flank, watching my back. I could feel his relief, because no matter how many times I said I wasn’t going to hurt anyone, he didn’t trust me. Nice to know he learned something in his past dealings with me. “I’ll watch your back, but seriously what’s she going to do shoot you? She knows that won’t work.”
As I step inside, a trio of specials came towards us. Two on me and one on Peter, I couldn’t tell what they could do, but they were obviously Claire’s bodyguards. Revolutionary’s needed to have thugs to watch their backs. A heavyset guy came charging at me, his hands blazing with blue fire. The other picked up one of the massage tables and hurled it at me, while the firestarter sent a torrent of flames my way.
The table flew back the way it came at double the speed she’d sent it at me, as I added my anger to the power of my telekinesis. She didn’t even try to duck, the table caught her in the face sending her careening through a fake pillar that broke in three pieces from the impact. She wasn’t going to get up again.
Flames flickered over my skin, and I screamed as I called up the ice power I’d stolen so long ago that I could barely remember ripping open Molly’s father’s skull for it. They weren’t screams of pain; no they were screams of joy. I could kill him too, and it wouldn’t mater. He was no more human than I was. Hoarfrost hit him in the face. I didn’t bother with his hands; instead I focused the extreme cold on his nose, mouth and eyes. He tried batting at the chilling cold as his face iced over, but by then it was too late. His eyes froze solid first, followed by his blood; I kept it up until his brain was rock hard before pulling back. He hit the ground in a heap, his head shattering in a shower of icy shards.
I didn’t watch Peter take care of his. If little brother couldn’t handle a single special on his own, what good was he to me? Behind us I could still hear the screaming and the sound of guards shouting, the action of automatic weapons being pulled from shoulder rigs as they came running towards us to stop me. I’d leave them to Peter too. He’d know what to do. He was good at playing with normals and not killing too many of them.
I dashed through the spa, looking for the elite private rooms where Claire Bennet would be having her work done. Why a girl who’d never age needed to go to a spa I didn’t know. I suppose she wanted to get her nails done to have Peter and Nathan’s blood scraped out from under them.
My hate preceded me. Anyone stupid enough to come near me screamed, clutching their heads in pain as my rage hit them. My empathy was out of control, and I didn’t give a rat’s ass.
“Claire!” I screamed her name, adding another stolen power to it, so the ground rumbled beneath my feet. In the warren of rooms, I found one last sealed door. Raising my hand, I blasted it open and strolled into the room where my beloved niece was just pulling up her leather pants.
“Sylar,” she spat my name. Her gun was on the table near her, but she didn’t bother to pick it up. She knew I’d stop any bullet before they could hit me. She wasn’t afraid. She was cold just like Angela would have been.
I raised my hand, calling on the nuclear power that I’d lost control of when she’d killed my son. I’d promised Peter I wouldn’t nuke the casino, but I had better control than that. I was going to use it to melt Claire an inch at a time before I dug into her brain to turn off her ability. I stalked toward her, reaching for her face, when she started laughing and my power died.
“Did you think I wouldn’t have protection that could stop you, Uncle Gabriel?”
The Haitian stepped from the curtained alcove behind Claire. His was face neutral as always, he never took sides. I wondered how rich he was from playing for all sides the way he did.
Claire gave me a smug look as she picked up her gun and aimed for my face. A shot rang out, and I watched as the blood spurted from the Haitian’s forehead.
“Do it, Sylar.” It was Peter standing behind me with someone’s gun in his hand. He shot again, this time catching Claire in the eye. “Kill that bitch.”
I crouched over Claire’s corpse watching as the bullet tumbled out of the empty eye socket and her eye started to reform. Placing her on top of the massage table, I used my power to hold her in place while I sliced her head open.
“Why bother?” She cried out in pain as I used my ability to crush a few ribs to shut her up. “You know I can’t die. You didn’t. Peter didn’t.”
“That’s because you’re stupid, Claire. I took your ability by digging in your brain. Now I’m going for that spot again, and I’m going to rip it out. You’ll die for good this time. After all that you’ve done it’s the least I can do. Bitch.” She screamed in anger as I found the spot. With a twist of my fingers, I ripped everything that made her special out of her brain, cooking it to ashes in my fingers that I flushed down the drain.
Peter and I waited, while casino security and SWAT teams figured out how to get to us, but Claire didn’t come back. She was gone. “I want you to do it to me now, Peter. You watched. You know what to destroy, so I can die.”
“No Gabriel,” He said, reaching over and taking my hand. “You’re all I’ve got left. We’re all we’ve got left. We’ll get through this together.”
“I don’t want to be like this, Peter. I don’t want to be Sylar.”
“I know, Gabriel.” A canister of tear gas came tumbling into the room. “I’ll take care of you, but not here.”
We appeared on a pristine black sand beach, the water was so blue that it hurt my eyes. Peter wrapped his arms around me, and I cried for my son and our brother one more time.