watchmakersylar | I'm a Practical Monster

Character: Sylar and Claude
Author:

thewatchmaker
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1400+
Rating: PG - it's a bit violent
Prompts: 025. Invisible voices for

100_fairytales 29/100
The Devil: Seven utterly fabulous wishes for one piddling, little soul? for

scifi_muses
On the First Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me – a Shiny New Power. for

heroes_sylar
Notes: Written for

graylikeme who picked the

100_fairytales and the victim.

Rain was falling at a steady pace outside the coffee shop. My ankles were damp, from where I’d walked through a puddle that was deeper than I expected. Now my feet were a bit cold, and I wished I had some kind of power to dry off. I like rain when I’m in it, but I don’t like the feel of wet clothes on my body. At least my coat had kept the top half dry except for my hair. It was hanging limp around my face, and I had to rake it out of my eyes as I hunkered over my bowl of chicken soup and cup of bitter coffee.

“Hell of a day to be out,” said the waitress as she refilled my cup. She was nice. She’d taken one look at me when I walked in the door and brought me soup and coffee before I could ask for it. It’d been a long time since anyone had been so thoughtful with me, and I appreciated it. I appreciated it enough not to ruin her day by dragging her into the walk in freezer and slicing her head open. She was special. I could taste it. “You in town long?”

“Not for long hopefully, I’m on an errand for my mother.” I smiled up at Betty as I reached for the sugar and little cups of fake cream to make the coffee palatable.

“Your mother’s lucky then. I couldn’t get my sons out on a day like this.” The door opened behind her, and she gave me one more smile before walking over to welcome her new customers.

Oh yes Angela was lucky. She had me to do her dirty work. I removed her enemies one by one, and grew more powerful with each kill. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t really my mother and that we were using each other. Killing her enemies was beneficial to us both, and I was more than happy to cut one more errant thread from the spider queen’s web.

Angela had warned me that this one would be a challenge. I was hunting one of the Company’s best, and I couldn’t be happier. All I had to do was find where the Invisible Man was hiding, and not get distracted by any other specials like Betty. Besides I could come back for her later. I already knew she’d been working here for years, and she wouldn’t be hard to find. I am a very practical monster.

Two hours later the rain had subsided enough for me to force myself out of the diner. I was stuffed. Betty took good care of me, and I left her a good tip in thanks. With my hands tucked into my pocket, I walked into the afternoon and started my hunt. The Company knew he was here, and they’d given me a list of places where he might frequent.

On a soggy day like this I vetoed any of the outdoor locations; instead I went in search of the nearest bar or coffee shop. Claude lived on the streets for years. It was logical for him to seek a warm, dry place on a day like this. The rain might have done me a favor; I preferred warm, dry places too. Flop houses and crappy motels were an option, but I doubted he ever rented a room of his own. Why bother when you can turn invisible and hide in someone else’s room that’s paying the bills?

I skirted around the biggest park in the city. It was a prime spot for street fairs, joggers and pick pockets. It was also where the homeless begged and slept on the dry days. Taking refuge under a thick trunked oak tree, I closed my eyes and centered my awareness, calling on the darkness inside of me to show me where he was hiding. I felt the spark, the tingle, and it tugged me away from the park and the shelter of the tree. It lead me across the street, straight towards a seedy looking bar.

The windows were painted over, and only half of the neon beer signs were working when I stepped inside. It smelled like stale beer, sweat and cigarettes. Some country music was playing on the jukebox. Unlike the buzzing neon, the jukebox was the real deal. It was in prime condition, and had probably been new back in the 50s. It was a beautiful piece.

There were a few people in the place, some of them were smoking, and all of them were drinking, hunkered over their drinks like cavemen over their kill. I could feel the pull of the special stronger now, and I saw a shadow slumped over a table in the back corner with a mug of something dark and nasty in front of him.

I walked up to the bar and ordered a double of JD. I might not be able to get drunk, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like the burn of alcohol or the taste. I drank it slowly, watching my prey in the grungy mirror behind the bartender. So far he hadn’t noticed me which wasn’t a surprise. The only people who know what I look like either work for Angela, are family, or they’re dead. The Company did a very good job of covering up my kills even before I came into the fold. It’d been a long time since the FBI dropped the Sylar case. It might even be worth the price of my soul to work for her.

When I finished my drink, I got up and stretched, drawing a small amount of attention. Then I ordered another drink, and took myself into the dark corner where Mr. Invisible was waiting. He looked up at me through matted steel gray hair for a moment as I settled at the table near his.

“Angela says ‘hi’.” I gave him a big smile, and leaned over in his direction.

That was all he needed. He got up quickly, pulling his power around him to bend the light, so he was invisible. His beer forgotten as he got up and his chair made a scuffing sound as he pushed it back. With a thought I sent the beer in a shower around the area, smiling as it hit him, showing me an outline. He hadn’t run for the door. He’d slipped further into the shadows to hide.

“You know with the smell of the beer and your stink, finding you isn’t all that hard to do.” Reaching out I pulled on the electricity running through the walls and sent it into the corner, and I heard him give out a strangled cry, becoming visible when he landed on the floor in a heap. Since I preferred to work alone, and it was harder for the Company to clean up if I slaughtered everyone, I tripped the fire alarm and the sprinkler system turned on.

Once everyone had run out, I locked the doors, and it was time to go to work on the soon to be dead man. The water from the sprinklers had jogged him back to consciousness, and he was trying to scramble away, going invisible again. Using my power I sent the balls from the pool table flying through the air like miniature planets. A couple hit the mirror, and it shattered into a million pieces.

“That’ll get you some bad luck,” the invisible man said. The rest of the billiard balls careened around the bar like they were tennis balls, breaking everything in their path. I lost a few out the windows, but I was rewarded by a loud grunt when I managed to catch him.

“I’m glad you woke up. Angela wanted you awake for this.” I focused my telekinesis and sent a storm of the broken mirror shards towards where I’d heard the voice and the grunt. I was rewarded with a cry of pain, and the heady smell of blood. Then he shimmered into sight, bits of mirror sticking out of his flesh, while blood beaded from the slices. I lifted him from the floor to pin him against the wall.

I stepped behind the bar to use the sink and wash up. It didn’t take long to get the blood off my hands. Taking a bottle of something cheap from the bar, I poured it over Claude’s corpse, then lit it on fire the same way I did Elle on the beach. The sirens of the local fire department were cutting through the bar’s fire alarm when I left through the back door.