Friday, February 26, 2010

Fireworks ch06

So the sixth chapter is up! Enjoy.



Chapter 6
"He has her"

Sylar smiled as he looked again at the yellow letters in the notebook. He did that a couple of times already in the past few minutes. It seemed as if he was having a great time hearing Mohinder complain about Molly’s disappearance. 
‘It’s his…’ Sylar said (finally) making an end to the Indian’s words. 
‘What?’ Mohinder asked quickly with contempt. He couldn’t believe that the killer showed no respect for his feelings, and was obsessed with that little piece of paper. It felt as if he was insulting him.
‘It’s his handwriting, I recognize it…’ Sylar repeated, adding a little more details. 
‘And just what does that has to do with Molly’s disappearance?’ asked Mohinder.
‘He has her. If that’s the case, all we need to do is find him and we find your new little sister…’ explained Sylar a lot more calmly than Mohinder. ‘So now you have a better reason to help me…’
‘Great… just great… First I end up being a taxi driver and then I have to help the bad guy…’ Mohinder complained leaning on his desk.
Sylar ignored (once again) Mohinder’s whining and focused on something different. He took a notebook, different from the one with the sign and turned a couple of white pages. The paper where he opened was blank and was suited just fine for what he was about to do. Sylar’s eyes turned white and misty and his hand automatically took a pen from the desk. He went towards the red couch and sat on it focusing on the paper. 
After a few minutes the drawings were completed. They were simple, black and white sketches which put together made no sense. Sylar smiled looking at one of the pages. His expression changes as his eyes caught a glimpse of something in the picture. 
Sylar looked in Mohinder’s direction trying to find something that should be there. The Indian moved his hands all the time so it was hard to get even a short look at them. Finally his eyes caught a glimpse of the bandage on the Indian’s hand. Somehow it didn’t get his attention before, mostly because of the red gloves Mohinder was wearing until now. 
‘What happened to you?’ he asked with only a little concern in his voice. He was still using his “Zane Taylor” tone when he was around Mohinder but it already started changing and modifying to his original one. It was only because of his habits that he talked that way. 
‘It’s nothing…’ the Indian quickly replied. ‘Just a little scratch…’
‘Well that doesn’t look like just a scratch’ Sylar said with his tone changing again into a bit more of his normal way of speaking. 
‘Anyways, since Molly’s missing maybe we do something about it…’ said Mohinder returning to the primary topic. ‘Except talking about my hand…’ he added a few seconds later.
‘You already phoned Bennet… You said he will help us… so what’s the problem?’ 
‘Well, he just hung up on me… I don’t know if he’ll really come…’
‘Calm down… I’ll make you some tea…’ said Sylar moving from the couch to the kitchen. He infused the water and went back to where Mohinder was sitting. 
‘Don’t you think you should order my trainers first?’ he asked looking at the computer screen. 
Mohinder stared at Sylar in disbelief, but seeing the other man's ignorance he sighed and looked in the same spot Sylar did. He obediently kept his “promise”, how Gabriel called it. Just when he finished typing in the last information two sounds came to his ears. First was the… 


 of the infused water and the second one was quiet knocking on the door. Sylar immediately stood up.
I’ll go get it” he “said” with his fingers. He went towards the door and opened it. Mohinder couldn’t do anything to stop him.


The first thing Bennet did after the door opened was pull out a gun. He didn’t even get the chance to point it. The tall, dark haired man, who stood before him reached out with his arm and made the weapon fly a few meter’s further. After that Bennet felt his limbs become stiff. He couldn’t move and he felt like he had no ground under his feet. When he looked down he saw his shoes a few inches above the ground desperately trying to fall down and feel safe again. After that the man felt as if his breath was being greatly decreased as Sylar reached out his arm in front of him crushing Bennet’s throat with his unusual power leaving just enough space so that the air could hardly pass through. He smirked seeing, as his old enemy desperately tried to free himself. He backed out to the room with Bennet levitating without breath in the air, before him. Mohinder gave a protest, but it wasn’t enough to stop Sylar’s actions. 
He pushed Bennet on the couch and at the same moment he heard the heartbeat. 

Thump, thump… 

He didn’t recognize who it belonged to. He heard it from the very beginning. A weak, but always racing heartbeat, somewhere in the lobby. It never came close to him, always staying at a safe distance. Finally it decided to act. He smirked reaching with his hand in the direction of the heartbeat. A second later the person was about to hit the wall behind him. 
‘Stop!’ a loud voice reached Sylar’s ears. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to take the persons power, become invisible, he wanted revenge. But no power came to his hand. It stopped in the middle of the way, slowed down giving the person behind him enough time to...


Wednesday, February 24, 2010

A certain Heroes addiction & some music

After reading my own Heroes fanfiction recently I started watching Heroes again. The second and third volumes which I watched earlier were a bit bad so I stopped watching it but I have to say the fifth volume is genius. The story at least. I was a bit annoyed that each episode focused around only a few characters and often there was little of my favorite ones in it. I mean you can like Peter only that much. But Sylar was brilliant. Throughout the whole series he was just amazing! So, I rediscovered my love for him and Heroes and Mohinder (although I was disappointed that he had a wife, everything figured out and appeared very little). I finished the forth season now. It's a bit of a relief taking into account that since Friday I didn't really do anything and I only watched Heroes. Yup, it was less than a week. I haven't written much and I most certainly didn't follow through with my attempt to finish Torchwood by last Sunday. I will do it by this Sunday though. There's no Heroes to disturb me now :-)

Great news! I got my tickets for Editors gig in April. I'm so happy. I was really stressed that I wouldn't make it - there were no tickets available from any of the sites. But I managed it. Now only tickets for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club are left to buy. And maybe also for Subways if I go with my friend. It would be quite cool. Can't wait for any of them. I have a wall where I hang all the photos from the gigs I've been to. I've got about 30 already but I still have to print out another 45 and I need to find some photos from other gigs I've been to. When I finish my masterpiece I'm gonna take a picture and post it.

I listened to a lot of David Bowie during the weekend. I wanna learn how to play a few songs on the piano. It's gonna be hell oh but the beauty of those songs will make everything worthwhile.

I also found a band called Choo Choo today. They were quite nice I have to say. And when I had a choice them or Arctic Monkeys they totally won. I've had a day of finding new bands today. You can't do much in an hour (the rest of the time I was watching Heroes) but you can most definitely accept one band and discard another three. Yes, the Choo Choo band was the only one I checked that I liked. I tried giving Arctic Monkeys a chance but I guess it doesn't work that way. I can be positively psyched about something but in the end it's the music that counts.

Now I'm off to watch this ->
pigeons and seagulls are probably one of the weirdest omnipresent birds in existance.

Fireworks coming up Friday and on 9th March there's gonna be a continuation of Outsiders. I am already thinking about the next part as well as putting up another one of my old stories. It won't be soon though. I'd rather finish one thing first and then continue with another.



Friday, February 19, 2010

Fireworks ch05

Now up is Fireworks chapter 5. I am actually considering putting this up at but I'm not really sure. At least for now I'm a bit too lazy. Maybe I will attract some readers from there. It would be nice.

I continued to correct it yesterday and I actually got a bit drawn into it. Silly, I know but what can I say. I don't remember all that I wrote there and some parts are a bit daft but some are nice. Currently at ch 10 so I'm half way through (yes, it's that long. I was surprised as well). I really love Sylar and Mohinder though. I will have to catch up with the series soon. Stopped watching at the third season.

Currently listening to Radiohead Karma Police <3. Previously was The Killers with Bones and I love that song so much.

Anyways, enjoy the story.



Chapter 5 
“Let the game begin”

‘A dream…?’ Mohinder said with contempt. ‘You want me to help you find a guy from a dream that you know nothing about…’
‘He’s got a power and I know what he looked like… a bit’ Sylar disagreed quickly. ‘Besides I do all the killing, so in reality you got the easy part!’ he grinned. 
‘Explain to me again: why do I have to sit here with you talking about killing someone?’ Mohinder asked making the question sound like a rhetorical one.
‘Because you think I’m right… And I’ll hurt your new little sister if you don’t…’ Sylar answered immediately.
Mohinder gritted his teeth. It was true. For some odd reason the killer knew every inch of Mohinder’s soul; even the parts he himself wasn’t sure about. Molly thought of him as a friend, maybe even a father she lost at such a young age. And he tried to find in her someone who had already died. His sister. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t see the girl as she really was. She wasn’t much older than his sister when she had died, they both had the same disease, and neither of them was more or less pretty than the other. His long hidden loneliness made an exit towards the little girl. 
‘You understand, right?’ Sylar put an end to his thoughts. 
Mohinder nodded silently with a grim smile on his face.

Riiiiing, riiiiing… 

Mohinder’s phone rang and with that well-known sound the whole world returned to him. He took the phone out of the pocket of his light brown jacket. The screen showed the name of the caller. It was Noah Bennet. Mohinder looked in panic at Sylar who was sitting before him on a comfortable straw chair. He had a grin on his face. Just seeing it made everything clear.
‘Hi!’ Mohinder said answering the phone. After a short and uncomfortable talk with Bennet he put the phone back in his pocket. The conversation was full of lies from his side. It wasn’t good but the Indian had no choice. Under the careful look of the killer, Mohinder quietly finished his coffee. Focusing on the cup he didn’t see Sylar’s eyes pointed at him but he could surely feel them. The man sitting in front of him hid the fact quite well. Each time Mohinder took even a glimpse at him, Sylar was either drinking his own coffee or glaring with questioning look at his shoe. 
‘Mohinder?’ Sylar asked suddenly. ‘Can I ask you something?’
The Indian looked at him surprised.
‘Can you… buy me new shoes?’ the killer asked quietly, like a little boy asking for a new toy. ‘You know I lost my one shoe from the last pair…’ he added trying his best to convince the Indian at least a little.
Mohinder looked straight ahead with evident shock on his face. Of everything Sylar could ask him, he asked for shoes. 
‘What next… a priest robe?’ he asked, still unsure if he heard right.
‘No…’ Sylar answered as if he didn’t hear the little rhetorical accent in Mohinder’s tone. ‘So, what about it?’ he didn’t let Mohinder go with that small answer.
‘Okay…’ the Indian gave up. He already knew that he wouldn’t win this “fight”. Plus, he felt a bit comfortable around that man, especially when they were talking about things other than himself. For some reason, Sylar understood him more than anyone ever before. 
Gabriel smirked grimly. 
This wasn’t right, Mohinder thought. He was a murderer. He killed his father and lots of other innocent people. But now, from what he understood, Sylar was trying to do something “good”. Well, killing a bad person could be good, but Mohinder wasn’t even sure if Sylar’s next victim was evil. If he was then there would be no problem aside from conscience but if he wasn't then what would happen? Would he be able to stop Sylar?
‘Let’s go,’ he said taking the empty cup and all the other trash he left after eating and leaving the comfortable cafĂ© into the cold street. 
Sylar smirked following him out. Forcing the geneticist on his side wasn’t so hard after all… Plus, he knew how things work. And although Mohinder’s soul was complicated and full of barriers, for him figuring it out was as easy as riding a bike. 
‘What now?’ Mohinder asked throwing his trash away.
‘Now…? Now… we go shopping…’Sylar said.
Another shock. Mohinder looked at him with surprise. His eyes sparkled as he walked down the street leaving the Indian behind. He grinned turning around and waving a black credit card in the air. 
‘Hey!’ Mohinder shouted already running to get his Visa back. He jumped at his hand but it was already gone. Sylar overwhelmed him in both height and power, so there was no chance in getting the card back on his own. ‘OK… I’m going…’ he gave up and Sylar’s half-innocent grin widened. 

Five minutes later

Sylar was looking at a black shirt with red stitches and buttons. He searched for the right size and took it. He did the same with some other T-shirts, pants and blouses. Most of them were black and simple, but even so, Sylar looked very unique in them. In the end, he left first shop with one almost full bag of clothes for three days. 
‘Much better,’ he said grinning. He looked as Mohinder took a grim look at his credit card. ‘Now for the shoes…’ he added making the Indian’s anger even bigger. 
Mohinder held his feelings inside and simply nodded annoyed with Sylar’s childish acting. But he couldn’t oppose. Each time he tried to defy him his hands moved on their own and he couldn’t do anything to stop them. So he had to play along. Making a scene would only make things worse. When that happened Mohinder felt Sylar’s warm breath on his neck, even though the man was already checking if there’s another shirt that he would want to buy. But the feeling of fear and being controlled didn’t disappear. Especially, when none of them said anything. Talking made him feel comfortable, but it was the opposite with staying silent.
‘Mohinder’ a voice called him interrupting his thoughts. 
He looked up to see that he had lost the track of Sylar. He turned around just to see the man looking at him and pointing at the entrance to a shoe store. 
Mohinder went back and entered the shop just after Sylar did. After looking through a bunch of shoes they finally found Sylar’s “perfect trainers”. They were black with red shoelaces that could be laced throughout almost the entire shoe. It had eyelets almost in every place on the sides of the trainers. With those the set of his clothes would finally be complete. But unfortunately the size didn’t fit. 
Sylar looked with disappointment at the shoes. He grinned insanely. In just a few seconds the shoe was already in the air. 
‘Stop that!’ Mohinder shouted with his voice strangled. 
Sylar looked at him with contempt and moved his finger a bit. The shoe slowly traveled through the air towards its box, but in the last moment it turned around and hit Mohinder in his stomach. The Indian curled, but picked up the shoe and placed it in the box. He looked at Sylar with pity. 
‘There’s always internet you fool…’ he said to himself, knowing that the man would hear him. 
Sylar looked at Mohinder with hope in his eyes. The Indian found himself pushed against the wall with just that one look. He sighed knowing that he couldn’t escape now. He put the trainers back on the shelf and exited the shop without looking back at Sylar. The man followed him anyway.
‘So, now what?’ asked Mohinder for the second time this day.
‘We go home…’ Sylar gave the instructions. 
They took a taxi to Queens, but Mohinder made the cab stop before the building where the apartment of Chandra Suresh was first. Checking in on Molly was his first priority in that very moment. 
Mohinder went upstairs and unlocked the door. He went inside the room seeking any trace off the little girl. She left the empty, Starbucks bag on the table where the computer was, but besides that there was no trace of the little girl. He went into the bedroom – the last hope he got for finding her. 
It was empty. 
The only unusual thing he found there was a black notebook lying on the bed. He took it and quickly opened. In panic hurried down stairs to find Sylar. 
He didn’t have to. The man he was looking for appeared before him just as he was leaving the apartment. 
‘Look at this’ Mohinder said passing him the notebook. ‘Are you happy now?’ he asked drawing immediate conclusions. ‘It’s all your planning, right?’
Sylar took the notebook in his hands and turned carefully at the first page. When he first looked he didn’t see anything because of the black pages, but soon he found the yellow ink on the middle of the paper. He grinned widely. The sign on the page said:
“Let the game begin.” 

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Music, annoying software & google buzz?

I haven't got any new stories yet but I guessed I could just write something anyways. A few interesting things have happened during the last week.

First the new google buzz appeared (or I just accidentally got it on my gmail account - no idea to be honest). I don't understand that thing at all! I mean sure, it connects twitter, picassa, blogger and so on but how come I have 16 followers out of which 1/3 is apparently myself.

The other thing is that annoying High School Programming League. My CS teacher makes me participate and sure the programs aren't that bad but still the site just isn't tolerant for java. I had to put one program in C++ because of it and I needed to search for a good compiler. I ended up with some program which I later came to a conclusion should've installed in the terminal but of course I didn't. In the end I apparently can't use C++ in my other compiler. I don't know if I can ever use C++ again. I messed something up and probably seriously. I know I should just use Python but I would need to sit down properly, print out a proper guide and then just do it step by step. On the other hand I have ready C++ codes to base my own and I know how to import and other things like that so it's easier for me. Am I boring anyone? Probably not since nobody reads this damn blog or they just don't comment.

As for music I got really cross with my acquaintance (can't really call him friend... mate? no, still too familiar). He represents every aspect that I despise of music fandom. "New bands are shit, only old classic rock and jazz are what people should listen to." Makes me sick. I can be persuasive but never will I dislike something just because it's new or has black in the name. That kind of thinking pulls music back and then we end up with Foo Fighters (sorry to all fans, I really don't like them) and lots and lots of copy cats.

I am continuing to write Torchwood. Currently working on the third episode and I want to finish it till Sunday to prove to myself that i can write a whole epie in one week. Not an easy task and I will have to dismiss school and everything else but I really need to work on it some more. I'm currently printing out the second part and I'm extremely proud of it. When I finish the third part I'm going to send the beginning to the Torchwood Magazine. Maybe something comes out of it. That would be nice. If not, I'm still going to publish it. I'm going to do my own forth series. With a proper storyline.

I was thinking about where I should study and I thought of four cities in the UK (excluding the rest of the world - haven't thought about those yet). One of them is Glasgow. So if I do get into the Glasgow Uni and I will still be obsessed with Torchwood (how can I not be, right?) I am so writing a story about myself being in Torchwood 2. Highly unlikely though judging from my grades (for now at least). Worst part is. I actually get pretty average grades for Polish and it's driving me mad because I'm really working hard and I've never ditched a lesson! I never play truant. Same with physics. But I guess I will just have to sit down to it once and study really seriously for a few days and then show everybody what I'm really made of and then their jaws are going to drop when I get 100%.

As for future uploads next up will be again Fireworks. I'm going to post it on Friday as from now on until I finish posting Fireworks it's going to be called Fireworks Day. Each Friday I will post another chapter. Other stories will also have their days: Outsiders is 9th of every month from today onwards. But that's the only one aside from Fireworks I can predict.

That is all for today. Next up will be my thoughts about nietzcheanizm. Where he's right and where I absolutely hate his guts. I really hate philosophy...


Sunday, February 14, 2010

Goodnight Travel Well

Inspired by The Killers' Goodnight Travel Well. It's a bit sad but that's a certain analogy to my life, I guess. I noticed that when I am sad I usually write happy things and vice versa. But there are some exceptions.

Now that I'm done with this story I should probably focus on the script I should be writing for Monday :-) I hope it works.

Currently listening to Manic Street Preachers' Send Away the Tigers. Though the best CD so far is 'This is My Truth Tell Me Yours' but I like this one a lot as well.

You can listen to Goodnight Travel Well here:
Hope you enjoy the story



Goodnight, Travel Well

"How long will you be gone?" he asked holding back the tears welling in his eyes. She couldn't see him this weak. But despite his efforts it was harder on him than she could ever imagine. 
"I don't know," Melissa answered. Her eyes were dreamy, lips curved in a small smile, slightly open, showing off that tiny gap between her teeth. She tilted her head, looked above his shoulder at the view outside the window. Grey streets covered with sheets of rain. She looked as if she wanted to take it all with her. Every detail, every scent and sound. Should she not come back it would all stay in her memory. "It could be years, decades or months, a few days, an hour maybe."
Neil touched her hair and leaned over to kiss her. He stopped a few inches away from her rosy lips. Her eyes weren't closed. They looked beyond him with fear and a slight bit of pity. He sufficed himself with a peck on the cheek.
"See you in an hour then," he whispered into her ear. 
She stood up and grinned. "Do you like my dress?" she asked. 
It was a turquoise blue with black stripes matching her short, neck-length black bangs. He felt his throat become dry and his fists clench, hidden inside the pockets of his jacket. 
"Beautiful," he forced himself. 
"See you in an hour then, Neil!" she said after the bus had stopped. Despite the depressing rain she was radiating with selfish happiness. 
She didn't wait for his answer and Neil was not going to give her one. He cursed the 221 bus where everything had started. He cursed his inability to make her stay. He cursed himself laughing and joking when he had wanted to force Melissa to stay. And most importantly he cursed the bloke she was leaving with. That spaceman. Alien? Maybe. She hadn't really explained. She'd only said she was going to travel with him to the stars, beyond the stars even. And on such short notice he couldn't even get angry properly.
He glanced at the red umbrella she had left behind and squeezed the handle gently. The bus' sudden stop shifted him forward but not enough for him to lose balance. He barely noticed the back of the seat in front of him only a few inches away from hitting his forehead. He took the umbrella and once he had gone out of the bus opened it. 
The constant tapping of the drops against the plastic above his head felt somehow reassuring. He focused on the sounds around him one by one eliminating them from his head. Finally, he could only hear the ticking of his watch strangely loud comparing to the blurry sounds of the streets and his surroundings. 
"Hey Neil!" he heard from behind. He turned around despite knowing what who he'd find. It was his "mate" Tom. For some reason that person would always catch up with him on the way back to the holes. No matter how early or late he would leave they always met up on the way home. 
"What's up?" Neil answered as the convention required. He'd rather ignore him but was afraid of the consequences. 
"I heard Mell left today for Birmingham," he said. "Did you guys break up or are you trying out that long distance thing?" 
Neil felt his fingers grip the handle tighter. If only he'd look down he was sure that he'd see his knuckles paper white. 
"No," he answered without any emotions and failing to give out any details. He knew well enough that even without his help Tom would drill the subject a lot further than necessary.
"That's too bad," Tom continued. "She's only mentioned it a few days before and just turned in resignation paperwork today. It was quite unexpected. Has she told you anything. Well, I suppose so I mean you two were a bit off for the past few days."
Neil didn't answer. In his mind he was thinking about how mistaken he was. Of course she'd only say it now because the opportunity had just arose. She'd only say that to make herself an alibi. 
"But you can still visit her right?" Tom spat out word after word without stopping his stream of consciousness. "I mean how far can..."
At that point Neil shut out. The only sound left in his mind was the ticking of the clock. He looked down on the pavement and left Tom to his own pondering. Maybe his friend noticed at some point the blank and distant eyes or how Neil barely reacted to his questions but didn't care for all that and just continued. 
He didn't notice when they separated. Maybe he did say a quick bye before leaving Tom at the holes, maybe not. His own flat was a few meters down the road and he'd just wanted to get there. 
Upon opening the door he didn't know how much time had passed. Hours? Days? Weeks? He remembered everything as if it were just a few moments ago and at the same time didn't know if it was yesterday, today or a week ago. He also remembered a lot of things that happened in between separating with Melissa and now: going to school, coming back, talking, laughs around him, his mates, all that blurring together. 
The quiet was relaxing. It was dark both outside and inside. Although he didn't know how much time had passed he knew it was more than an hour. Even if it had been less he knew that she wasn't going to come back. Ever. 
He stepped out onto the balcony. He didn't notice the cold. Faint glows of the light streets hurt his eyes for a brief moment. He quickly turned his head towards the sky. The night sky was full of stars even in this congested city. He leaned against the metal bars and looked down. His hand was bleeding and he was still pressing the rusty blade of the pocket knife against his wrist. For a brief second his skin was white around the edge of the weapon before turning bright red when blood spilled from his veins. The cut was deep spanning from his forefinger to a few inches before his elbow. He stared at the cut, the dark-red liquid flowing out onto his balcony tiles.
He didn't feel any cold or hot, or pain for that matter. Even if he did his head was too occupied to notice anything from the outside world. His mind rewinded every moment of his relationship with Melissa at the same time. His head hurt and his mind was bewildered unable to distinguish anything, the memories too tangled and the world simply too far away. He felt weak and his body slid down without him able to prevent it. His face was now inches away from the dark stain and he could see stars glittering on the surface.
Suddenly everything went quiet. The stars creater a perfect replica of Melissa. Her face was smiling - a smile Neil had never hoped to see on her face. She looked so much happier than when she was with him. Her eyes - two white spots glittered with excitement. The silhoute of her hair made it seem more beautiful than ever before. Her lips with carmine-red lipstick laughed engrossing him in dreams of travel and adventure. He tried touching it and the image wavered and faded in the ripples.
"I'm comming..." he whispered meekly. His eyelids felt so heavy he couldn't help but close them. "I'll just take a short nap and be right with you..." see the stars, he added in his mind.
With a finaly effort he raised his hand and without opening his eyes wrote crookedly on the floor: "Goodnight, travel well".
His consciousness was drifting away. But just before that he lost all sense his ears recorded a sound.
Peep, his voicemail said. "Hi, it's Mellisa," a happy voice said. "I just arrived at--"
The rest disappeared in between his dreams.

PhotoKiser, II 2010

Friday, February 12, 2010

Fireworks ch04

Continuation of Fireworks. This is my honest attempt to submit stories regularily :-)

I'm currently listening to REM, Everybody Hurts which really makes me nostalgic. Also as an update I am currently working on a (very) short story - inspired by the Killers' song "Goodbye Travel Well". Unless it turns out to be very bad I will probably post it after the weekend when I will have finished it (if I won't finish it in the next 1 hour. I'm currently at school waiting for my last two lessons of Theory of Knowledge which is a bit of a time waster... So I've got a little time to work on it).

For now please enjoy Fireworks chapter 4.



Chapter 4
The Side Story… ish… 
“Could you answer that, please?”

Knock, knock… 
Quiet knocking broke through the silence in the room. A little dark haired girl went towards the door and opened it. A tall man in glasses was standing at the door looking around.
‘Hello Molly!’ he said gently. ‘Where’s Mohinder?’ he asked not even letting the little girl respond.
‘He’s out…’ Molly answered with her mouth full. As always she was very stiff with talking to the man. But after yesterday she felt a bit more comfortable around him. She remembered how he let her buy some candy (but there was the strict rule of “not eating everything at once”). ‘He left me a message that he’d be back quickly but he hasn’t come back yet…’ she ate the big chocolate chip cookie quickly as though she thought that Bennet could take it away from her. “It’s been 40 minutes already” she added in her thoughts sadly. She woke up as the door from the apartment closed and she had a bad feeling about Mohinder’s sudden “trip”. He usually told her everything at least a couple hours before he did it. 
‘Well this is weird…’ Bennet thought out loud. It was most probable that he just left to see what’s with Sylar, but there still was a weird feeling inside him when he thought of it.. From what Noah heard he was in quite a bad shape when Mohinder found him. But right now, he couldn’t think of anyone except for the one man who made him travel the whole country. ‘Molly…’ he said quietly bending his knees and kneeling carefully. ‘Could you please find one person for me?’ he asked. In his soul he begged for the little girl to say ‘yes’. 
But she didn’t. Molly looked at Bennet’s glasses and shook her head.
‘Mohinder said that I shouldn’t use my powers to find other people like me. That they could be hurt because of that…’
Noah smiled, cursing Mohinder’s “wisdom” in his head. 
‘Well Mohinder was right. But I don’t plan to do anything bad to him… I just want to…’ he whispered something into the little girl’s ear. Her eyes sparkled as she nodded. 
Molly looked at the picture Noah gave her. She pulled an atlas out from one of the bookcases and put it on the table. Bennet looked as she turned the pages with her eyes closed. Finally her hand stopped on one point where she pinned a pin. Bennet smiled with excitement, looking at the point where the metal made a little hole. 


Bennet dialed a number on his cell phone. He didn’t even have to look at the screen and the buttons. 
Beeeep… beeeep… beeeep…
‘Hi!’ a voice answered. 
‘Anything new?’ Bennet asked coldly looking strait ahead at the street.
‘About what…?’ asked the man on the other side.
‘About him…’ Bennet made it strait for him.
‘Oh, right!’ the Indian finally understood. ‘He’s still unconscious. Can you meet me later at his place? It’s in Queens. I hid him there for now. Looks like he’s not going to wake up for now… He’s had several dangerous cuts.’ Mohinder’s voice was a bit stiff with a bit of fear in it, but it was probably caused by the shock of seeing Sylar in his door yesterday. 
‘OK, I’ll be there.’ Noah promised hanging up. ‘Be careful…’ he added when the speaker couldn’t hear him. 
Bennet focused on driving now. 
He stopped the car a few minutes later by a big apartment building. After a short moment he pushed the accelerator again and started moving slowly looking for a place to park the car. He found it after a few rounds and went towards the building. He climbed the stairs and found himself at the roof of the building. Now the hard part started. 
‘Claude?’ he said to the empty space before him. 
Nobody answered. Of course it wasn’t unexpected. Claude was a man whose biggest nightmare was for someone to see him. It was obvious that a simple call from the person who wanted to kill him just a few weeks ago was not going to make him appear. 
Bennet went towards a big and old-looking metal cage. They were mostly filled with pigeons. He touched the cold metal bars of one of them. Something hit him on the head just as he took the tips of his fingers away. He fell to the ground unconscious. 
Claude was looking at both his hands, holding a thin metal pipe and the man he had just took down. 
‘Oh my God…’ he said to himself. The hit was bad. It was strong enough to kill a weak person, but – thank god – Noah was strong enough to survive after it. 
In an act of desperation the Invisible Man tied his old partner to the leg of a cage. And then he waited. 


It wasn’t long till Bennet opened his eyes. The first thing he saw made him flinch. A big grayish blue pigeon stood before him looking strait at Bennet with its little golden eyes. The first thing that the tied up man thought was so irrational that for a brief moment he believed it. 
‘You’re not so dangerous now, are you, Mr. Bennet?’ he heard a familiar voice from behind him. 
‘Claude?’ Bennet gave a short sight of relief after making sure that what he thought was not true. 
‘What does the Company want this time…?’ the Invisible Man asked appearing before him. He looked different then when he used to work at the company. His blond hair was a bit more messed up and he had a beard. 
‘The company’s over…’ Bennet answered truthfully not changing the monotone tone of his voice even for a brief moment. ‘Linderman’s dead. I just wanted to…’
‘I won’t fall into that trap, you know that…’ Claude interfered. There was fear in his voice. All he wanted was to disappear from the community, but it seemed that his invisibility wasn’t enough to get what he wanted. 
‘Even if it were a lie, it doesn’t matter! I already quit before the explosion.’ Bennet said peacefully. Staying calm was the best strategy in most situations. 
‘And I should believe that… I wasn’t killed until now thanks to two things: luck and Peter. Although he’s probably the reason why you found me… Even so… It’s a pity he died…’ 
‘Wait… You know about that?’ Bennet tried to move at least slightly, but the ropes were too tight.
‘He told me about him exploding… Guess he didn’t lie after all…’ Claude replied 
‘If you know that you should also know that Linderman’s dead along with the Company’ Bennet tried his best to get the man’s attention.
‘I said I’m not falling for that trick!’ Claude shouted, mostly just trying not to believe his old partner. He already decided not to trust him ever again, even when every cell in his body seemed to say that Bennet’s words were true. 
‘Would you please shut up for a second and listen to me?’ Bennet shouted as Claude once again seemed to ignore his presence. The man closed his mouth a bit surprised with Noah’s sudden anger.
‘Thank you’ said Bennet calming down. Just when his lips formed the first word he felt something in his pocket. 

Buzzzzz… buzzzzz… 
Noah twitched as the phone started ringing. 
‘Could you answer that, please?’ he asked the question so quiet that almost silently. 
‘That’s what you wanted to say?’ asked Claude insulted.
‘No! It’s just that… my phone is ringing and it could be Claire… Or Molly…’ Bennet said with a bit of hope in his voice. He wasn’t the type to just not answer the phone, especially when the caller was somebody he didn’t want to talk with. 
‘Okay…’ Claude gave away the victory. He took the phone out of Noah’s pocket and opened it. ‘Who’s Mohinder?’ he asked pushing the green button and placed the phone near his ear. ‘Hello?’
‘I need your help! You should come immediately! My apartment!’ he heard.
‘He says he needs your help, immediately… And that it’s in his apartment or something like that…’ Claude passed the information on closing the phone and ending the call. ‘One of your buddies I guess?’ he said.
‘He’s a geneticist... It doesn’t matter… I just wanted to…’ Bennet got interrupted again.
‘An Indian guy with curly hair? I think I saw him before… Peter told me about him a bit…’ 
‘I’m sorry…’ Bennet said quietly, giving up any hopes of getting Claude’s attention. 
‘What did you say?’ the Invisible Man asked surprised.
‘I said I’m sorry!’ the man repeated a lot louder, almost screaming. 
Only silence answered.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Fireworks ch03

I have suffered yet another failure in regular posting. For now I am posting the continuation of Fireworks although I have finished Outsiders 2 already but I cant post it until I correct it which make take me some time.

I have connected this blog to my twitter account ( ) although I have yet to find out if it was successful or not. Let's hope so. I'll find out when I post this.

I am also thinking about doing a simple written rpg game software in the near future :-) But as always it's too much plans for too little time. I hope it does work though.

For now however, here is the continuation of Fireworks. Enjoy!



Chapter 3

Mohinder looked blindly at a piece of glass sticking out of the bookcase. He remembered the weak face of Sylar, lying on the couch in the apartment in Queens. Leaving him there could had been a mistake… Especially if he only left a little note saying: “Please stay, Mohinder”. No. It was surely a mistake. But what could he do…? Molly was still weak and making her stay the whole day in the city with Noah wasn't good. And the mess that Sylar made… There was no way he could leave it like that

Knock, knock… 
Mohinder lousily opened the door. He was tired after yesterday and also he just got up, so it was only natural that he couldn’t normally prosper. It was 7 am after all… (Especially when he went to bed at around 3 hours after midnight) A loud ‘crack’ was heard when Mohinder pulled the handle. Or was it just his imagination? But truthfully it was loud for the person standing on the other side. 
The moment Mohinder took a short glimpse of the man standing on the other side was the moment he closed the door. Or tried to. Some weird strength stopped him from doing that, and instead he ended up opening the door even more.
‘Coffee?’ asked a man in a green Starbucks cap. He had dark sunglasses and lots, and lots of band aids on his face. They were mostly Sponge Bob or other cartoon band aids for kids (like “Power Puff Girls”, or “Spider-man”, “Superman" and other heroes band aids). He was holding a cup holder with two light brown cups and also two paper bags with an unknown content. Except for the unusual clothing and accessories, he wore the things he always did: a black coat, black shoes (unfortunately it seemed that he couldn’t find his other shoe so he had black and comfy running shoes) and a broken watch on his wrist. And also the unchanging grin which showed both innocence and evil intentions at the same time didn’t fade. 
‘What on the earth or you doing here…?’ Mohinder asked with fear. Sylar looked very lively (comparing to the half asleep Indian) as if nothing from yesterday had ever happened. 
‘Just bringing coffee… I think I owe you for saving my life. It’s “breakfast blend” and a latte. The first one’s for you’ he added after a short moment of uncomfortable silence. ‘Oh, and this is for Molly…’ he gave a small paper bag to – still surprised – Mohinder. ‘It’s a chocolate chip cookie and chocolate milk… I think you could leave it on the table and add a note. She should find it…’
‘Just what are you planning?’ asked Mohinder with reasonable suspicion. From the grin he could easily tell Sylar had something planned.
‘We’re going on a date…’ the man answered with his grin changing a little. There was more suspicion and mystery in it now that it was a bit wider. 
From Mohinder’s side only silence replied. It grew bigger as the time flew by. 
‘Well… not on a date…’ Sylar finally took on the subject a little further. ‘I guessed you wanted to talk to me… Unless of course you don’t want to…’ he added after Mohinder’s piercing look continued. 
The Indian sighed. There was nothing he could do. What Sylar said was true… He did want to talk to him. Very badly. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. First of all he needed to know why… He caught himself thinking about it. He shouldn’t space out in a time like this. One false step and he could be dead. Molly could be dead. He’d just fail again. 
‘OK… you might be right… We should discuss some things…’ he agreed with huge hesitation. He put the little paper bag on the table and added a note to the little girl, still sleeping peacefully in her bed. 
Sylar at that time took a little trip around the apartment. He looked at the things that changed since he last entered the Indian style home. There were quite a few changes. The desk with a laptop still guarded the same spot as always, even when Chandra Suresh was living there. In the deeper parts of the apartment, however, there was a couch. Probably picked for a long time, so it could match the style of the room. In the end it was a big, dark red couch with three brown cushions in elephants. There was also a thick blanket with the set judging from it’s dark red color exactly the same as the furniture. There were many childish drawings everywhere. Mostly with animals and Mohinder. 
He went towards a door that led to the Indian’s bedroom. Now the room was occupied by a little sick girl and medical equipment. He laid his hand on the cold metal of the handle. He smirked sensing a presence behind him. The person’s heart was racing and his breathing unstable. 
‘I thought you wanted to go on a date, not to pick on little girls’ said Mohinder pointing a gun at Sylar and trying to stop his voice and body from trembling. 
‘You know that won’t work on me…’ Sylar turned around and Mohinder could see that his grin hadn’t change a bit from when he was standing in the door. ‘Don’t worry… I don’t plan on doing anything to the little angel…’ he let go of the handle. ‘Are you ready?’ he added already heading towards the exit.
The Indian nodded. He put the gun away in the drawer and followed Sylar.

15 minutes later

Sylar was swallowing another piece of a bagel with cream cheese. He waited patiently for Mohinder to start his breakfast. They both were sitting silently in the park. 
Now Mohinder had a chance to ask all the questions he wanted. He felt weird tickling inside him as he thought of it. But now that he could, all the words disappeared from his head. All he could do is silently watch the coffee and two sesame bagel’s with cream cheese lying on his laps. 
Sylar seemed to somehow enjoy this situation. He was already finishing his bagel and the latte. He reached towards Mohinder’s second bagel and clamed it not waiting even for the Indian to answer his ‘may I?’ 
‘Why…?’ he heard from his left. The place where Mohinder was sitting. 
‘I’m hungry…’ Sylar answered.
‘Why didn’t you run, or kill me… It’s something you could have easily done…’ Mohinder ignored him. 
‘I could ask you the same question…’ Sylar finally got serious. ‘You had the chance to revenge your father, stop me from killing, and end your misery from the last time you couldn’t kill me… Yet you didn’t take the chance… and now… you just lost your only chance… Why…?’
Mohinder looked strait into Sylar’s brown eyes. It was something that neither of them wanted. The Indian saw all the killer’s victims in his eyes, along with their suffering and pain. All in the eyes of one man. Something a normal person could not live with. The guilt transformed into greed. Yet it seemed that there was more intelligence in the killer’s eyes than in a normal person. He quickly run away from his look.
‘I don’t know…’ Mohinder answered. ‘I just couldn’t pull the trigger…’
‘I'll tell you why then. We’re the same… You and I…’ Sylar said. His eyes glittered.
‘I’m not like you!’ Mohinder opposed. ‘I don’t kill innocent people!’ 
‘We both want something we can’t get…’ Sylar continued. He smirked watching as Mohinder lost his patience.
The Indian stood up placing his untouched bagel and coffee on the bench.
‘I’ve had enough of it!’ he said. ‘I don’t need to sit here waiting for you to stop insulting me! I don’t need any power like you do! And especially I don’t want to kill!’ Mohinder started walking away.
Sylar stood up. 
‘You’re using her…’ he said with a grin on his face. 
Mohinder stopped mortified. He couldn’t move. Even breathing was hard. At first he thought it was Sylar’s doing. But it felt different. It was his own incompetence. Deep down inside he knew that somehow the man was right. 
‘You lost the only one who could give you what you wanted… And then you found out about her… So you used the little girl to get what you wanted… You act like you care… But it’s your own greed.’
‘What do you want…?’ Mohinder asked. He already gave up. He felt like it was the truth. And In some way it was.
‘Before you found me… I saw a man… I want you to help me find him.’ Sylar demanded. ‘Don’t worry… I plan to do it the usual way…’ he said as his grin widened behind Mohinder’s back.