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Evolution Marches On	By : kakatin Category: G through L > Heroes Views: 732 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Evolution Marches On
- 1
Hey, everyone! So this is the first Heroes fic I've posted. Concrit is appreciated, craved, begged for! =) No one beta-ed this, but if you�d like the job in the future, let me know!
Disclaimers: Don�t own. Don�t sue!
Warnings: SQUICK SQUICK SQUICK! There be violence and squickiness in this here fic. If reading about Sylar doing his thing in detail bothers you, HIT THE BACK BUTTON!
SPOILERS ALERT! Have you seen season 1? Sweet. This fic is FICTION and meant to stay that way. I definately don't condone violence or the eating of brains, but, hey Sylar does, so whatcha gonna do? =) Enjoy!
Evolution Marches On
"That sound--in your heart." Dale cocked her head, listening. "What is it?"
Sylar smiled, slow and twisted. "Murder."
The woman's grip tightened on her huge wrench, the knuckles of her right hand turning white. Sylar saw it, of course. He flicked a casual finger and the wrench ripped from her fist, clattering to the floor across the room.
Telekinetically pinned where she stood, Dale's pupils dilated in fear as the tall man made his approach. Each step was deliberate, planned like everything else in Sylar's life. He seemed to contemplate her as he moved, his head turned slighly to the side in an oddly puppy-like gesture. He looked almost curious to watch her struggle against her invisible bonds, almost like he couldn't quite figure out why she was so frightened.
He reached the minutely trembling woman and looked at her seriously. "Don't worry," he said softly, leaning in a bit though he knew it was unnecessary, "This wasn't random. I chose you. You're not just lucky--you're special." He smiled and lightly stroked her cheek. "Like me."
Her eyes widened. Sweat beaded her forehead. The ipod played softly in the background, forgotten.
Looking into her terrified eyes, smile firmly in place, he raised a hand. It was empty, but that didn't matter. Sylar was a weapon. A slim finger extended and his gaze intensified. Dale closed her eyes against it as tears slipped down her cheeks.
She wanted to die with dignity; Sylar could tell. Too bad, he thought. Everyone screams.
And scream she did. Thick red blood washed away her tears as he sliced into her skull, his telekinesis ripping into her skin and then her bone. He always did it slowly, carefully. Yes, he wanted her dead, but he needed her brain, her ability in tact. The screaming usually stopped about halfway through as shock and blood-loss took their collective toll. After a minute or so of terror, Dale fell silent--right on schedule. The red-black blood still pumped, though; her body wouldn't die just yet...
The top of her head came off with a sucking sound, and the cranial fluid inside joined the river of blood. He tossed the disembodied scalp aside.
Sylar removed her brain gently, and her body collapsed limply to the floor, discarded. Carefully bringing the pudding-like organ to eye level, he studied it intently. Blood and fluid dripped quietly off his forearms to speckle the garage floor. His innate understanding for how things work quickly discerned the slight differences in her auditory cortex and nerve, what was left of it, that had granted Dale her extraordinary hearing.
He smirked. There it was. Right there. In his early days he had used the whole thing. Now he knew he only needed the 'different' parts. The rest was distastefully...normal. A waste of time.
Easily carving away the extraordinary from the less-so with his fingers, he lifted what remained and opened his generous mouth. He eased the warm organ inside. His eyes slid shut, and his heavy brow furrowed as he concentrated.
This wasn't his favorite part. The idea of what he was doing was truly insane, when he stopped to think about it. If he could figure out another way to absorb the necessary DNA and integrate the brain structure, he would do it. He remembered the first time, how he'd almost been sick and ruined the entire thing. It wasn't a pleasant experience, to say the least. Still, it worked, and who was he to argue with evolution?
The tissue felt like warm silken tofu or softened Velveeta cheese in his mouth. It had vague structure to it, but it was fragile. The taste was slightly sour and it mixed with the more familiar coppery tang of blood. He rolled it around in his mouth, mashed it with his tongue, swished it like he was at a twisted wine tasting. Sylar imagined he could feel his cheeks and palate absorbing the new DNA directly into his bloodstream. He visualized his own auditory cortex and nerves changing and improving as his body transformed itself to match the new code. He smiled as he swallowed, despite the lingering aftertaste. The remaining DNA would be used, absorbed until it overrode his own and he was born anew, baptised in blood that took him a step closer to perfection.
He opened his eyes. Everything was silent except the faint ipod, so he focused on it. He concentrated until the sound was loud enough to hear clearly and then mentally turned it down again. He nodded. Not bad. Although a few hours more would give things a chance to really grow and settle. He took a deep breath through his nose and reveled in his own ability. It made him so special. Different. Unique. The next stage in human evolution.
He sniffed again and made a face. He was covered in blood and brain matter. He stalked to the shop's metal industrial sink and washed himself off as best he could. He'd definately have to shower when he got back to the hotel...
After eliminating any incriminating evidence that could be traced back to him, he headed out, tired but satisfied. It was a productive night's work.
*~*~*
Fresh from the shower, Sylar sighed as he put on clean clothes. His hearing was steadily improving, becoming almost painfully acute at times. It was starting to give him a headache. He almost felt he could hear the sun rising outside. He fell into bed for a couple of minutes, closing his eyes and listening. Next door, Mohinder awoke to his alarm, showered, brushed his teeth, dressed, and packed. Even though he heard the neighboring door close and the light footsteps approach, Sylar still winced when the genecist finally knocked lightly on the door.
"Zane?" The sofly accented voice boomed through Sylar's head. The killer grimaced again before telekinetically turning on the light and rising to open the door.
Mohinder smiled brightly. "Ready?"
The lanky man flashed what he hoped was a happy answering smile. "Always."
And so it begins...
- 1
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Evolution Marches On