2007-08-04: So Many Things


DFMegan_icon.gif DFSylar_icon.gif

Summary: A killer returns. A sister dies.

Dark Future Date: August 4th, 2009

So Many Things

Megan's Apartment, New York City

9:30PM. Night, once again, has fallen on the city of New York. The wind blows, just a small breeze, causing fliers for Nathan Petrelli to rustle slightly in the wind, the creaking of the trees and porch swings giving an ambience to the area that makes it feel slightly creepy. This could be credited to, however, the shadowy figure standing in front of the apartment buildings, staring up at the fifth floor. Farthest window to the right. It watches, raising a hand, moving it slowly upwards. The window above, again on the fifth floor, mirrors this action, slowly sliding open without a sound. Then…

With a sudden burst of movement, the shadowy figure literally soars into the air, landing on the rails of a balcony on the second floor. It turns to the right, and with another great bound, flies up to the fourth floor, just feet underneath the fifth floor window it had opened previously. It pauses, scanning the night around it, before quickly taking the final leap up to the window, floating just outside of it, before slowly sliding in through the opening, closing it once inside. Sealing its prey.

Inside the apartment, Megan paces. The past two years have been hard for her. Losing contact with Lachlan, losing the Company, being a part of Peter's rebellion. All she knows is that the world ended as she knew it and now she doesn't have any real friends or any people she can really trust. The moment she hears the window opening, though, she freezes. A Company Agent, a part of the resistance, she quickly presses herself against the wall and starts searching for something to use as a weapon. Anyone opening a window on the fifth floor is not with good intentions.

Too easy. Now that the killer is inside the apartment with the window closed behind him, he kneels down, slowly, closing his eyes and he listens to the apartment around him. No natural sound coming from any part of it. Yet, he can…

The killer stands, eyes opening quickly, and he takes several steps forward, pausing just inside the room. He closes his eyes again, smiling, as he listens to the sound again.. the sound of Megan's beating heart. Fast. Thumping loudly against her chest, the sound seemingly reverberating around the apartment to Sylar's ears as he takes delight in the sound, the thrill of the hunt, the thrill of the fear he causes… it feels good to be back. To kill. To murder. To take what is rightfully his. "I can hear you," he says, his voice echoing lowly through the apartment, using the sound of her heartbeat to locate exactly where she is… only two walls away. His eyes snap open, and without a movement, without a sound, a telekinetic shove goes through the walls, straight towards Megan's back, aiming to throw her to the floor.

Just about the time that Megan gets a hold of something to hit Sylar with, something shoves her and she goes sprawling on the floor. The lamp that she had picked up goes crashing to the ground. "Who the hell d'ye…" Scrambling, she attempts to pick up the lamp again and get herself to standing again. Her heart pounds even faster and instead of going for the lamp, instead she attempts to go dashing to the doorway. If she can get out of here, she can call Peter, she can call someone, get out of here. "Ye've go' nothin' on me!" Convinced it's Homeland, she knows that she needs get out of there and find another place to be. And fast.

The sound of the lamp crashing to the ground carrying through the apartment, Sylar smirks as he steps through the doorway, placing him that much closer to Megan. He walks slowly down the hall, taking his time, enjoying this far too much.. but then he is a psychopathic killer, isn't he? Hearing her heartbeat moving away, no doubt towards an exit, Sylar once again uses telekinesis to push the poor girl, but only this time he pushes her /towards/ him, rather than away. He doesn't even need to raise a hand— it's a simple push with his mind, and it works. It's effective. There's no escaping Sylar.

There's a gasp that rushes out of Megan's lungs when suddenly she can't run forward any longer. Instead, she's flying backwards, towards the intruder. "No!" She yells, however, what can she do when her attacker can make her stop and start at whim. There's no escaping. However, that doesn't mean that she can't attempt to get away. Kicking backwards, she tries to surprise whoever this is before she can get away. "Ye let me go! Ye dinna know who yer trying to—"

Stepping into the living room, Sylar looks over his quarry, a smirk slowly spreading across his face as she begins to kick backwards. He raises his hand, pausing, and with a decisive swipe, he brings it down, a large amount of pressure suddenly forcing its way onto Megan's back, cutting off her speech, and more than likely knocking the air out of her as well. "It's always fun when they fight," Sylar announces, stepping past Megan so he's now in front of her, crouching down, his arms resting on his knees. "As if they have some sort of chance to get away… of course.. sometimes it is annoying. Makes it take longer than it should. Sometimes it needs to be quick."

While she had a long diatribe of angry Scottish shouting, that gets cut off by the pressure on her back. The kick doesn't connect. All of the sudden she can't breath. Collapsing onto the ground, she quickly wraps her arms around her, as if that could help her bring the air to her lungs. However, when she looks at Sylar, her eyes widen in disbelief. Suddenly, this becomes a whole other ball game. "Y-ye…" Slowly, she tries to crawl away. "Yer…yer…" No, this is not possible. Peter killed him. Two years ago. /This man is supposed to be dead./ "/No/!"

"Yeeeees," Sylar says slowly, a grin spreading across his face, but it is anything but a friendly grin. This is a grin of pure hatred, pure malice, pure psychopathic killer. "You know who I am. Well, guess what? I'm back." The killer raises his hand in front of him, index and middle finger pointing forward, directed right at Megan's head. "Say goodnight. I'll pass the message along."

Megan knows that face, knows who he is, how could she not? There's only so far that she can get away from him with the air knocked out of her and as terrified as she is. The woman shakes and stumbles in her attempts to get away. No, no. She can't die. Not now. Not when she has so many things she needs to amend for, to fix, to /do/. All she needs is enough time to call Lachlan, to fix everything that went wrong between them. There's not even a chance to scream, not enough breath to do so even if she wanted to by the time he points the index finger at her. She attempts to fling the closest object at him, but the motion dies as blood streaks down her forehead. It drops out of unfeeling hands and falls to the ground, the soft thud muffled by the much louder smack of her body.

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