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 ( http://twitter.com/PhotoKisser ) 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!

~PhotoKisser

***

Chapter 3

‘Coffee?’

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.

The Amazing Space Adventures of Tommy

Hello,

I'm currently finishing the sequel to Outsiders but for now here's a little story I wrote for my uncle for his birthday. It's sort of like a child story and I had little time to work on it so it's not perfect but I think it's nice.

~PhotoKisser

***

"The Amazing Space Adventures of Tommy: Space Dog Majka"

    Tommy looked through the telescope and saw thousands of tiny shining points on the night sky. He then moved the lunete a few inches higher and to the right until he saw a magnified image of the moon. The moon was larger than most days and he could distinguish some large craters on the cream-coloured surface of the satelite. He stayed that way for a few moments observing each and every detail of the moon. Every time he looked at it it was different. And some days he couldn't see it at all when it was just a round shadow barely visable on the evening sky.

    His vision was suddenly obscured as something large, much bigger than the moon passed somewhere between him and the cosmos. If he didn't knwo better he would've thought it was a falling star but it was far too big to be one. He moved away immediately, falling back on his hands. He stood up quickly, the cold snow stinging his bare hands. He hid them in the pockets of his warm jacket and went back to looking through the telescope. Except now there was a big black dog standing right in front of the lense and nothing could be seen. He looked at the creature.

    It wasn't your usual house dog with a leather collar and a name tag on its neck. It was slightly bigger than a normal labrador although it looked exactly like one. It had short black fur and a wagging tale that would never ever stop. But the most unusual thing about this dog wasn't its size or the happiness and energy beaming from it; it was the big helmet stuck on its head. It was round and looked like a glass fish tank but its end was attached to what looked like a metal collar with lots and lots of small buttons and lights. The helmet looked like it was a little bit too small as the dogs snout was pushing against the glass and leaving a shape of foggy steam vaporized on the inside of the helmet each time it exhaled through its big, damp nose.

    It looked at Tommy with its two black eyes so deep one would easily compare them to two black holes.

    "You're a Space Dog," Tommy said. It wasn't under the influence of the glass helmet or the eyes. He called it that because of it's fur: black but with spots glittering like stars on the darkest night Tommy had ever seen.

    "My name is Majka," the Dog introduced in a very barking sort of way. It's tail was still wagging and it looked at Tommy as if it were expecting something.

    Tommy thought at first that it was food but Majka didn't look hungry. It didn't take him long to finally figure out what it really wanted. He ran into his house and quickly returned with a yellow flashy tennis ball. He threw it shouting "fetch" as his hand released the ball mid-air.

    Majka jumped to the toy and returned with it in a matter of seconds.

    "Again! Again!" she said dropping the ball at Tommy's feet.

    Tommy picked the ball up with hesitation. It was covered with the dogs saliva and already lost its bright yellow color. He did throw it however and Majka brought it back. The cycle repeated itself a few times but the dog never got bored. It was kind of funny how dogs never lost interest in doing the silliest of things like, for instance, fetching a tennis ball.

    The game was interrupted by Tommy's mom calling the boy to bed. Tommy looked at Majka with such sadness in his eyes that she stopped wagging her tail for a few seconds. He didn't want to go to sleep just yet. It was still early and besides, he still wanted to play with Majka. Suddenly an idea came up. He looked at Majka with that clever look in his blue eyes.

    "How fast can you fly?" he asked remembering how he noticed the dog only when it was so close.

    Majka smiled understanding his question. Oh she could fly fast alright, faster than light if it were necessary. Tommy was a pretty tall nine year old but even with his unusual hight Majka was the size of a big pony to him. He climbed up her legs, groping her fur clumsily when he slid down the silky black hair. He tried a few times before he managed to sit comfortably just behind the dogs shoulder blades. Majka readied herself and jumped.

    Tommy saw thousands of stars passing them at an amazing speed. They were both huge and very small. He sometimes felt very hot and other times he had to cuddle closer to Majka's fur just to steal some of that amazing heat she produced. Majka herself seemed very used to this and it was nothing weird as she was a Space Dog.

    They landed on a very green planet. There was nothing but plants wherever they went. Even the flowers and the sun were green. They travelled by foot for an hour or so and there was nothing around that they could distinguish. Suddenly, Majka's paw got stuck in the green pebbles which covered the soil on the planet. Somehow she managed to save it but the feeling of safeness disappeared immediately. And it wasn't just the fact that there were traps that nature set up for them on this distant planet. They also felt as if something was watching them. And soon enough they were about to find out what it was.

    The ground vibrated slightly and a big bird appeared in front of them. It had black feathers and looked a lot like a raven except it had a humanoid face and its feathers above its face on the right side were tinted blue. It had rectangular glasses and looked like a girl. And not only did it look like a girl, it looked evil. If only it were bold then Tommy would've thought it the scariest thing he had ever seen. The scariest thing he had ever seen so far was that man on television who wore a huge black robe and sang very scarily.

    The bird half croaked and half bellowed and started running towards them. As clumsy as it was its speed was far over thirty miles per hour and it quickly started catching up with them. In an act of desperation Tommy jumped and caught Majka's tail and hang onto it with all his strength. After getting used to it he managed to look up and see that they were heading for that same stop where Maika got stuck last time. With the right amount of pressure maybe the monster would get stuck in it. It was heavier than Majka and ran so it was quite possible his plan would work.

    "Jump Majka!" he shouted when they were just before it.

    "Okie dokie!" the Space Doggy jumped above the sands and they stopped a few meters behind it to look back and see the big bird sinking and trying to save itself.

    Tommy's eyes filled with tears as he took pity on the creature. "Can we save her?" he asked, his voice shaking.

    Majka then wagged her tail three times and the creature magically stopped sinking. It crept out picking the pebbles out of its feathers.

    Tommy grinned seeing the embarrassment on its face. He yawned and realized he was quite tired. He leaned on the dog and after sliding down fell asleep next to its warm legs.

    Tommy woke up the following morning lying on his desk with a green crayon in his hand and a drawing of a Space Dog that was stuck to his cheek.

Outsiders

Nick's (Franz Ferdinand) birthday is tomorrow. This one is for him.

Happy birthday Nick! ^____^

Outsiders. My little first-person narration experiment. It will probably see a sequel and a comic by distorted eye if things go well. Based on 2 drawings by the same distorted eye ^___^ Enjoy.

~Photokisser

Drawings:

1) Nick and Alex:

http://Distorted-Eye.deviantart.com/art/Outsiders-Alex-and-Nick-146506812

2) Bob and Paul:

http://Distorted-Eye.deviantart.com/art/Outsiders-Bob-and-Paul-146506889

***

The Archduke Franz Ferdinand Boarding school for Talented Youth. The school I attend, the one place I'd do anything to be in. And also, ironically, the one place I hate the most in the world. It's the kind of school that mostly rich kids attend even if their 'talent' amounts to almost zero. Reputation is all that matters in this place. Reputation and money.

The 'FF' as it's called by us, has the best equipment and staff you can find. Kids can attend here all the way from preschool to college and there's a whole city neighboring it that plays the role of a campus. For those who are actually talented and didn't get in only thanks to their old man having cash and status there are lots of places to work in case they haven't got enough money. Sounds good, but it's not. The pressure from the rich rascals is too much for some to handle.

I have only one good memory of this place. I attended the FF when I was a kid. There were three guys I used to hang out with. We spent a lot of time but then I moved to Germany. I forgot everything about them. I don't know how and I certainly didn't realize when that happened. I know that didn't want to forget, but it just happened in the feverish rush after adapting to the new environment. Now, I have no pictures, no contacts and almost no memories of them. I remember only one situation: our teacher asked us who did we want to become when we grew up. Our - sort of - leader said he had a dream of becoming a mafia boss, another one a zombie and the third one wanted to work in fast food. Ironically, he did come from a rich family.

They were the only reason I came back here. But after ten years it was impossible to find them. Well, maybe it's better this way. Sometimes I get the feeling that something terrible would happen if I came back not remembering and met them without recognizing. I know I would feel – at least – offended by something like that. Probably also betrayed. I suspect that maybe they changed school. I sort of expected it. We weren't exactly the most likable group.

What I didn't expect, however, after my disappointing search was that my boring life in the FF could change so drastically.

Naturally, he was introduced at homeroom. “Mr. Kapranos” was different from the rest. In here people are categorized in 3 groups: the rich-brats, arrogant nerds and the weirdos, the ones that came to the school because they were made to, or had other terrifyingly weird reasons to come here.

The boy who entered the class was neither. He was just better than any other person in the academy. Prouder than those wealthy twats, better than the nerds and the weirdest of us. But more importantly, he had them. So beautiful, perfectly gray, not to small and not to big.

Perfect wings.

Not everyone has them. Wings, the ability and potential to fly, to dream. I myself lack them. I remember my three friends having them as well. That something special that only I could notice. Why, I wonder. Why am I granted this ability of seeing something that I could never have? This cruel fate just makes my life miserable.

“I'm Alex...” the boy introduced himself. His voice lacked emotions. He seemed to be thinking he's too good to introduce himself to a bunch of bugs. He was scary... The teacher pointed out his seat. It was next to some rich bloke who kept the place beside him empty so he could invite and molest some girl when one transfers to our class. Or speaking shortly, Dave, the Perverted. Alex ignored the teacher and picked a different seat. Next to me. Nobody even dared to protest. He gave of an aura of invincibility, like he'd kill you if you even dared to say anything. I glanced at him and for just a second saw him smirk confidently and blink at me.

The teacher felt it would be better to just ignore him for now and continued with the school business. I hid my face in my arms and continued to do what I was doing up until now: lying on the desk and thinking. At the moment it was Alex I was thinking of. I could feel his feathers brushing my arm. Just being around this kind of a person was more than I could comprehend.

I squeezed the pencil in my fingers and moved my arm a little. “Nick. Nice to meet u.” my hand wrote on the table. I didn't look up. I was afraid. I could already see the look of disgust in his eyes. Because of that, and only that I continued to lye until the bell rang. I was never more awake and more aware of what was going on around me than on that lesson. I could feel my back stiffening at the beginning and then hurting me when I was too nervous to relax. As soon as the bell finished ringing I was already outside the classroom not looking back to face my deskmate.

“Nick!' I heard Paul's voice on the corridor and turned around. The two were heading towards me and I was more than certain what will be the subject of our next conversation. Bob and Paul were probably my only mates in the FF. They were friends from when I too attended this school and since that time they were always together. The dark-haired Paul was really rich (but unexpectedly OK) and surprisingly loved burgers, while the other was an artist and his family did his best to help his abilities flourish. The school's art group had the best quality art supplies and frequent meetings with famous artists. Of course, never the ones Bob wanted to meet. That's how it usually is with different possibilities.

Neither Paul nor Bob had wings. What they had was a couple of perfect-gray feathers pointing out of their shoulders. But it was better than nothing. Maybe those feathers could grow into wings one day? was what I often thought when looking at them. It was actually quite possible. They weren't the type of people who I usually spot wings on but they most definitely deserved them.

To be honest, I wasn't really attracted to those two at the beginning. They were just mates I could talk to. Nobody special. Just not to be isolated too much. I grew quite fond of them, especially recently. They seem like air-heads but they are fairly aware of their surroundings.

“Who is that guy?” Paul asked looking around just to make sure nobody was listening to us. I knew there were quite a lot of girls and guys looking at me with an evil glare. Jealousy? Maybe hate? The sensation of their position being endangered? Maybe they thought I could pose a greater threat to them now. “I wonder why he'd sit with you. I mean, I know anybody would switch just to be as far away as possible from that perv, Dave but he didn't even know him. I guess he understands everything about this school from just one look! I wonder what made him even transfer here...” I noticed Paul was glaring at me, expecting something but I couldn't understand what it was.

“Yeah...” I agreed not exactly knowing what I should say. I couldn't tell them about the wings. They wouldn't understand it. Or so I told myself. But then again, I was probably just afraid that I'd even lose those two. And I am tired of having people stolen away from me.

We went to our spot. It's in the part that students were not permitted to go to so there were never many people there. But even there we were spotted. Not by the staff but by Christopher's errand boy.

Christopher, also called the Captain, is like the student council head and probably the most important person around. He was just unlucky enough to pick that kind of nick name. He probably thought it would be cool like West Ham Captain or something of that sort, but it made the exact opposite reaction on me and as I once found out on Bob and Paul too. When we heard his name for the first time we could only think of a fat bearded old man with too little hair and a pipe in his lips. "The Captain" is the exact opposite though. I can't say he's not intelligent. In fact he's quite smart and he himself knows that. And he isn't easy to shut up. While the other guys who thought I'd be afraid of them gave out after a little talk I managed to get them off of me. Christopher on the other hand didn't let words to force him to do something. He also doesn't rely only on his position and also I had to come to a little agreement with him before acquiring my peaceful life.

“Hey Nick” I was greeted coldly by the boy. The moment those words came out of his lips I could feel myself being in the way of Paul's killing intent. Yeah, this guy is Pete. Or Kenz as everybody calls him. He naturally acquired a quite big amount of strength and muscles and now likes using it on any occasion. Paul is one of his victims. I still feel a bit sad when I look at his chipped teeth. “I just came to tell you... Don't think that just because you have a new ally you can just brake off the agreement.”

“What?” I couldn't believe my ears. “He just sat next to me that's all!”

“Yeah right. I saw him scribbling messages to you all the time... He belongs to the Captain.” He hissed the last words with such content and hatred that it was obvious what he meant by those words.

My blood was boiling. I didn't know if it was because of the loathing or my surprise. Whatever the reason was I decided to bring it all out on Kenz. The idiot deserved it.

“Fuck off, you wanker...” I whispered. “As if you'd understand how special he is!” I hit him first in the stomach and afterwards in his cheek. He fell to the ground. He could've worked out for a hundred years for all I know, but he didn't have much experience in fighting. After attending a public school in Germany one is bound to learn how to fight and defend oneself.

“Let's go” I said putting my hands in the pockets of my uniform trousers. I wasn't necessarily trying to act cool as some would think but I was trying to hide my hands from Bob and Paul. I was clenching my fists so tight that my knuckles were probably white. I was so angry I didn't care too much for the lying pawn. Paul and Bob followed me a bit overwhelmed by my sudden outburst. We didn't really talk much after that.

I left them after we got to the students lunch area. I didn't tell them where I was heading even though they were asking. But, I had to check it. The moment I disappeared from their eyesight I ran to the classroom. The door wasn't closed and thank god for that. I slipped in and rested against the door listening if anybody was approaching. I relaxed when there were no footsteps heard. Immediately my face was covered in a blush. I couldn't believe it. Not only did I openly call somebody I never knew special I was more than excited to hear I received a message from him. I never knew that somebody's wings could have such an effect on me.

I found my table at the back of the class. I was lucky to have it there. It was in a place that nobody would pass and accidentally glance at what Alex wrote. That was a message for me and only me. I knew it.

The wood was clear of any writings. There was no message there. And it looked like it was erased with an eraser.

I felt an overwhelming sadness. I wanted to cry. I wanted to know him. Nothing more. Just to be his friend. I could only blame my stupid character for that. The more I wanted to know somebody the harder it got for me. That's why it was so easy with Bob and Paul. I didn't really care that much at the beginning. And I was really thankful it turned out like that.

I rested on the chair and leaned forward. I was tired. I had nothing to do now. There was no point. I rested my head on the table and took a short nap that ended when the bell rang. The bell that announced the end of the lesson. I opened my eyes and looked around, everything seemed blurred to my unadjusted eyes. Before I knew what was going on he was already gone. But I had nice dreams while I was asleep. I didn't remember any of them but I could always feel the sensation of Alex's feathers tickling my arm.

When I woke up I was disappointed to find the seat next to me empty. Bob and Paul were probably on their way to the dormitory too. I slacked off before leaving the class. After everybody had left I checked the desk again. Some part of me wished that Alex left something for me. That idiot Kenz. With my hopes up like that I just couldn't focus...

Our dorms are divided into two parts. The one for the rich kids with everything high class and all, and the one for the less wealthy children. There the rooms were double and there were some other inconveniences compared to the better part but nobody thought of it as a problem too but that wasn't a problem. Unfortunately I wasn't in the same parts as Bob and Paul and so I pretty much ignored most of the crowd walking past my door. Since I was the last one to transfer in a long time to this dorm I had the whole room to myself. Or so I thought.

When I opened the door I found my stuff being tossed around the room mixed with some of his stuff. Yes, Alex was sitting on the bed (my bed) and seemed to have made himself totally comfortable in my room. I won't say it was unexpected, I was quietly hoping I would share my room with him but I did expect him to be in the other part.

I stared at him, at his wings with total reverence.

“Hi” he said. His deep voice was nice to listen to. It was totally different then what I heard in class.

“Hi...” I said quietly hoping to have a conversation with him but afraid to do the first move. Like always.

“I hope you don't mind me staying here” he continued.

“No, not at all!” I tried not to look at him but my eyes were too attracted to him and his wings. I remembered that he too had wings like Alex's that boy I used to spend time with when I was a child.

“Sorry about the trouble I gave you...” he whispered with honest concern. I was amazed. I didn't expect him to be like this. I thought he'd be a though guy but I found him actually showing good manners and true human feelings that I almost didn't receive in this place except for when being around Bob and Paul and some of the nicer teachers.

“Don't worry about it” I don't know if I smiled or not. I didn't know if I should. “They're all just a bunch of idiots... This school is so corrupted, you can rarely find anybody good to spend time with.”

“Bob and Paul seem nice” Alex said as if he tried to stay optimistic.

“Oh, they're OK, great guys, actually” I said. I wondered when he'd had the chance to meet them. And why was he staring at me so intensely, like Paul did not too long ago.

After that none of us said anything. I knew I should've said something more but I just hadn't the courage to do so. We went on to doing our stuff and didn't say anything till night fall. Only once I thought I heard him whisper something about protecting me if anything happens to me because of him. But it was probably just my imagination. I was just expecting too much. When he left the room to do something I found his feather on the floor. That beautiful gray feather. I put it in my wallet. I don't know if feathers alone are visible to other people. And I don't plan on ever getting rid of it. I collect them for some odd reason. They're all tagged in my wallet. Name, date and place. I almost never forgot a person with wings. Except for the boy from my childhood.

The whole next day I felt like I was being watched. And it was not by just one person. I felt glares coming from every direction.

I was 'kidnapped' during the lunch break. A couple of guys surrounded me and led me to a quiet place where it would be impossible for a teacher, or anybody for that matter, to find us. I cursed the school for being so big.

I was surprised to see that even Christopher came to see my humble defeat. Whenever I see him I still feel outraged. All because he too has wings. Not as big and gray as Alex's but certainly they make quite the impression on somebody who sees them.

“I thought I made myself clear when I said you shouldn't get along with Mr. Kapranos” that was all he said.

“You have no idea who this guy is...” I whispered. “He has 'em! They're bigger, better and more beautiful than yours! You don't have the right to lick dust from his shoes...” After that speech I could see Christopher's face filled with anger and confusion. I was blabbering nonsense to anybody who didn't see them. But he didn't say anything. He just nodded to Kenz.

I was beat up to a pulp. I had no chance against ten guys working-out every day. I tried to defend myself but was quickly caught and immobilized. Late, i thought it all stopped for one moment. Later, there was a weird commotion but I was too tired and hurt to see anything. All I wanted was to sleep. But just before I passed out I could swear I saw Alex's shoes. One black, the other white. Wow, that guy really had the style.

I woke up in the same place I fainted. Alex was sitting besides the wall resting his back against it. His wings were as beautiful as always. But they were different. Drops of blood tainted the grey feathers. He himself was beat up too.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!” I shouted quickly. I shrouded as pain filled my entire body.

“Bob and Paul were here too...” he said.

I was angry. I got everybody involved. I didn't want to make any excuses because there were none I could make. I said nothing. He didn't open his lips either. After finally gathering enough strength we crawled to the nearest bathroom. I happily found out that my face was in a worse state than his.

“Why did you come...” I asked. I was angry with him.

“Why shouldn't I? You got into this because of me so I can't stand by and watch you get the beating of your life” was what he said. Yeah, right. As if you'd taint your conscience with my pain. I was a step away from bursting to tears. So weak. He was much better than me. He shouldn't have tainted his wings with blood. Why would he do that?

“You don't get it, do you...” I whispered. “If anything happens to me it's OK. But you... You have them, you can fly, fly higher than anybody I've ever seen... Then why? Why deal with earthly affairs when you have the whole sky to fly around?”

“I could ask you the same thing” Alex said calmly. I looked at him surprised. What did he mean? “Why do you hide them?” he stepped behind me. I stared at his face in the mirror. I felt a tickling sensation on my back. But it wasn't exactly on my back. Then, there was this nice sensation on my back. Like he was stoking it. But he wasn't.

And then, he showed it to me. First the feather. Beautiful gray. I thought it was his but it clearly wasn't. The shape was a bit different, less pointy and more curved. Also the color was a bit whiter than his. Then he pointed at my shoulders. There they were. Wings. How? I don't know. But I had wings. Wings more beautiful than those of Christopher or any other person in the school. They could even compete with Alex's wings.

“I have wings...?” I said with disbelief. The only thing I could think of was how amazing he was. He and my wings. I rested my back against the wall and slid down.

“I guess you didn't lie at that time...” Alex said to my surprise. “When I asked you if in seventeen years you'd still be Nicolas McCarthy..." I glanced up at him blankly. Some distant memory awaken in my head but I couldn't remember it clearly.

He opened the door to the bathroom, next to me and wanted to leave. I grabbed his trousers around the ankle and didn't let go.

“There's been some change...” I said “But we're still Outsiders.”

We stayed that way until the bell finally rang. Me holding his trousers and he leaning on the door probably wondering if he'd ever get out of this bathroom. I was happy. I finally remembered. Us. The Outsiders. Us four. Alex, me, Paul and Bob. At the same time I shivered in fear. What was going to be the punishment for my forgetting? I was afraid to even imagine it. Alex. As gentle and good mannered as he was, was a demonic, winged mafia boss on the inside.

Karasu

First story just finished :-) It's called Karasu and I wrote it about three years ago so it's definitely a bit weird and not that great but it was I think the first story I wrote in English. It's also pretty sad I guess. Hope you enjoy it!

~PhotoKisser

***

Karasu

‘Karasu!’ a scream of a little girl buried in the never ending sounds of the battle around them. But the person who was supposed hear it, did. Karasu turned around and felt warm blood on his face. It was her blood…

***

They were looking at him. No, not looking. That word didn’t actually fit in this place. They were staring at him. He felt it. For some reason he couldn’t ignore it like he used to with all of the other annoying stares that he used to be given. He stopped. His dark hair once again fell in to his eyes. He looked at the child which was still inappropriately staring at him. She, because it was a girl, had pitch black hair, probably cut by herself with an old knife, because her bangs were in some places really short and in the others very long. The eyes staring at him were so dark that there was almost no difference in their color and the color of her hair. She had two sweaters on herself. The top one betrayed the existence of the second through some big holes. She probably wasn’t older than nine years.

Later on he never knew why he ever said that short word which had changed his life forever. He covered himself tightly with his white coat and looked seriously at the girl. Her face didn’t express any feelings except a little spark of curiosity. But even so it looked as if she were crying. There were no tears running nor did she hide her face in her hands but one thing was sure: deep inside her soul, she was crying.

Karasu himself didn’t have more than 25 years but had a lot of experience in dealing with other people. He was born in a steady family with enough money to feed everybody, but even there he was an outcast. He learned to hate people and he lived out of a small wage, being a currier. With that he didn’t have to contact anybody, and could be left alone.

‘Come’ he said roughly and hurried down the street. He looked like he didn’t care what happens to the child at all. It didn’t matter if she would follow him or stay under the cold wall of the building. He felt a little surprise when the girl unsteadily stood up and started walking. Her feet landed exactly in his footprints. For a long time there was just silence. None of them would talk: Karasu was trying to understand why would he ever do such a thing and the girl was focusing on walking.

‘I’m sorry, Raven…’ these were her first words.

‘What’re you sorry about…’ Karasu said a bit annoyed. ‘You should thank me for what I’m doing…It's ”Thank you” not “I’m sorry…”'

‘Thank you, Raven…’ the girl corrected her mistake.

Karasu stopped and turned around. He looked into her deep dark eyes. It was as he thought. She had no intention of saying her last words. She spat them out like bad medicine and the grimace of displeasure stayed on her face hidden behind the dark pupils. But he didn’t stop only because of that. She said it twice already. It couldn’t be just a coincidence.

‘Why are you calling me Raven?’ he asked in a similar manner as the girl said 'thank you'. His name, Karasu, it meant exactly that: Raven.

There was no answer. The girl was staring at the ground as if she'd never heard the question.

‘What’s you’re name?’ Karasu asked slowly continuing to walk.

Again there was no answer.

***

‘Thank you…’

***

Karasu held the door for her. But she didn’t enter. She was patiently waiting outside for everybody to enter or exit the room. She would probably stay in that spot but Karasu grabbed her arm and pulled her into the inn. She didn’t protest. She never did. Only small details attracted her attention. Karasu guided her across the room to a small table in the back covered in shadows.

‘Why are you doing that?’ Karasu asked.

The girl knew exactly what he was talking about. She always acted nice towards everybody. Bowed a little when she passed people, opened doors for them, always said sorry… She treated everybody like that not caring if they would notice it or not. But even with that she never said a “thank you”.

‘Why not?’ she whispered.

‘They won’t care if you wait or not. They don't see these kind of things Nor would they do anything about it. Why care?

‘Somebody can notice it… There would be no sense in it if everybody thought your ‘why”,' her words bore no anger, only a dare. 'Besides if I do that somebody can start doing the same. And there would be one more nice person in the world…’

Karasu sighed looking at all the drunken people. Unfortunately it was the only place opened right now so he just couldn’t go somewhere else.

‘I doubt there’s someone like that…’ he said, his voice just a tiny bit too sharp.

‘I’m sorry’ the girl said once again.

***

‘…for everything…’

***

The dagger was only a few inches from her face but the girl didn’t move. She wasn’t scared. Her face still didn’t show any expressions or feelings. The owner of the weapon was probably more scared then she was. His hands were shaking and eyes were filled with tears.

‘Give me your money… or she dies!’ he said in a trembling voice.

Karasu didn’t move. Just looking in his eyes the bandit could easily say that he lost. In one moment he shifted and in a second he was already holding a short blue sword, with a carved raven to the man’s neck. The bandit dropped his dagger and kneeled. He was scared. A lot more then the girl. Karasu never saw her scared. In fact he never saw her express almost any feelings.

***

She held him weakly and looked at him. In her big, dark eyes he saw something he never did before: fear, sadness, a whole palette of feelings. But the dominating one was happiness.

***

Karasu walked a lot quicker now that they were passing the crowd. He didn’t want to spoil her young eyes with a sight like this one. She on the other hand focused very hard on looking around, searching for something. Karasu noticed that her eyes were focused on the people standing on a small pile of straw and hay, and a moment later on something above them. He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards an empty alley.

“Die!” The scream of the people could still be heard even after leaving the square.

‘Barbarians…’ Karasu commented. ‘Laughing out of another person’s death…’

‘Why were they going to die?’ the girl asked.

‘Because they lied against the ruler, that’s why…’

‘But they didn’t tell lies…’

Karasu looked at her a bit irritated, but she didn’t seem to notice it and continued with her speech.

‘There were only three pigeons there’ she paused noticing the questioning look of Karasu. ‘Everybody has their bird. It’s their guide and protector. It always appears when they die. Every guide means something else: a pigeon - franc, and a Raven – guidance. There were only three pigeons. They were guiding their souls to the afterlife.

Karasu looked at her with a bit of surprise. He thought he already heard everything but now a new information came out of the girls mouth. He feared the question being born in his head: "who was she?".

***

Karasu hugged her tightly holding her weak body close to himself. He cried. The world seemed to disappear. The only thing that was left was him, the girl and ravens. It was enough. All the sadness in the world couldn’t make his happiness disappear. Yes, he was happy. He looked at the Ravens already flying away. She was free. After all this time of being stuck in a world where she didn’t belong, she was finally free.

***

Karasu was kneeling before a small stone with a Raven carved into it. A black bird was sat on his shoulder.

‘Thank you…’ he said touching the cold stone. He stood up. In the weak light of the settling sun he looked like a big raven.

PhotoKisser, winter 2006/07

Winter cleaning

Hello,

Haven't been here for a while. Unfortunately I've been busy with a private project which took all my attention and I couldn't post anything new. Furthermore, things have been awfully busy at school. I've been correcting one thing for almost a week cause I couldn't find any time. Fortunately, however, the xmas holiday is coming up and I'll have some time to work on something maybe. I'm currently starting to do some cleaning in my stories and I'll be correcting (and finishing) a lot of things so I'll probably be posting them as well. Mainly my anime fanfiction (D Gray Man which I daftly abandoned two chapters before the ending - no idea why - and Darker than Black fanfic which I just stopped writing for some reason). Be sure to expect something very soon.

As for my franz fiction, I just finished correcting Outsiders recently so I'll be putting that online in a matter of days. Maybe I'll even write a follow up quite quickly too.

And just to keep you updated on my non-fanfiction projects there's probably a comic coming up (Distorted Eye will be doing the art, and I'll probably be helping with the story) and there are some other things I'll be writing too hopefully.

Right... Sorry for the big teaser. It'll probably take some time to do all this but I'll work hard whenever I don't have loads of work for school. So wait for it :-)

~PhotoKisser

Fireworks ch02

Here's the next part of Fireworks, enjoy!

~PhotoKisser

***

Chapter 2
‘What do you do with a half-dead man lying on your couch?’

Mohinder pointed his gun at the chest of the man lying before him. It was the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes and once again just when he was about to pull the trigger he lowered the gun. In little breaks between hesitating to shoot he treated his wounds. The cuts weren’t dangerous but the problem was with the big loss of blood. Even so, nothing was as deadly as it looked. The most mysterious thing was that the place where Hiro stabbed him was healed perfectly. No scar, or anything that would say there was a deadly wound in that place.
A little wooden figure hit Mohinder in the head. The impact was big, but it was not enough to make him unconscious. Well it was already the second time, so he was a little bit more prepared for it than when the first hit took place. Sylar’s powers were going crazy, probably because he was still in a half-conscious state. He was freezing everything and making most of the objects fly around, but that still was better than going nuclear or making everything melt. But the worst thing was that every little sound made him scream in pain.
Mohinder looked at the bandaged man, picked up his phone and dialed a number.

Beeeeep… beeeep…

Nobody answered for a long time but the waiting finally repaid.
‘Bennet? He’s here!’ Mohinder almost screamed to the phone. Nobody replied so he went on with the speech. ‘He appeared in my apartment and then…’ the Indian stopped. The person on the other side of the phone was definitely not Noah Bennet. In fact, it probably wasn’t a male at all, guessing from the fact that he still didn’t hear any shouting on the other side of the phone.
‘I think… you got the wrong number…’ a young woman’s voice came out of the phone.
‘I’m terribly sorry, ma’am…’ Mohinder said glad that the lady on the other side could not see his face blush. He pushed the red button on the portable phone about the same time the girl did.
He looked at the screen. Off course… he dialed a ‘4’ instead of ‘5’… He picked the number again checking it twice, no three times so that he didn’t make a mistake. Of course he had to hurry… His hands were shaking from fear and the cold provided by the half-conscious Sylar lying on the couch. He pushed the green button.

Beeeep… beeeep…

He waited for the other side to pick up the phone.

Beeeep… beeeep…

Finally he could here a ‘click’.
‘He’s here!’ Mohinder screamed.
‘Mohinder?’ a familiar voice came from the other side.
‘That man’s here! He’s lying on my couch, half conscious and oh my god… He’s ruining my house completely!’ Mohinder continued to complain although half of what he said was barely understood by Noah Bennet.
‘What do you mean…? He’s in your apartment?’
‘Yes… I’m freezing to death here! I barely dodge all the things he throws at me!’
‘How come you can call me…? Is he conscious?’
‘I already said – half conscious… I think he’s having a dream or something’
‘OK… first of all stay calm…’
‘How do you expect me to stay calm?’ Mohinder shouted.
‘What is your plan…?’
‘I don’t know… I mean… what do you do with a half-dead man, lying on your couch?’
‘First of all… He can’t stay at your apartment…’ Noah started lecturing Mohinder after the information filtered through his mind and sorted up. Now he could at least tell what happened. From what he understood Sylar fainted into Mohinder’s arms (“how romantic” he thought for a brief moment) and Mohinder put him on his couch. After that Mohinder tried to kill him but has failed since he couldn’t pull the trigger he ended up treating his wounds instead of stopping his heart for eternity. ‘Get him somewhere else…’ Noah said a lot more conscious than the panicking geneticist.
‘I think I know a place’ Mohinder seemed to calm down a bit and think normally. ‘Until I call you please stay with Molly… At least till I make things right here, OK?’ he asked holding his father’s notebook in his hand.
‘OK… ‘
‘Thanks’ Mohinder ended the call. He caught a glimpse of the phone screen. “02:47”… Probably most of the call was his useless mumbling. He looked outside the window on the street, carefully analyzing the amount of yellow cars in the traffic before the building.
A minute later he was standing on the street trying to catch a taxi. Finally a familiar yellow cab stopped before him making him step back a bit. He opened the front door of the taxi.
‘Could you please wait here for a moment, I just need to get my friend’ he said leaning on the door. The driver sighed but didn’t say anything.
Mohinder hurried to his apartment. Sylar already destroyed half of his room, but now it wasn’t anything to be concern with.
‘Please forgive me…’ he said hitting the dark-haired man with an elephant figure. Everything stopped. Now the hard part… He “carried” Sylar, or to be more precise dragged him with big trouble next to him. Once he left the building he went towards the yellow cab waiting for him on the street. He pushed Sylar in and put him in a comfortable position on the soft cushion of the taxi. He was happy he thought of dressing the man in a cap hiding half of his face and sunglasses. He also corrected his coat so that his blood-covered clothes were hidden. Of course he couldn’t find the other shoe so he left it the way he found him. After placing Sylar’s body in the cab he went inside trying to look normally. The driver looked at Mohinder with suspicion in his eyes until he saw his face clearly in the mirror.
‘Mohinder?’ he said smiling. ‘How’s it going? You ready to come back to work? I heard you got some problems at home?’
‘Well things aren’t going well… ‘ Mohinder started, cursing his luck for finding a cab with someone he knew from work. Well… The man named John (he had to find a card with his name) didn’t even appear in his memories. It seemed that although he never talked with anyone everybody still knew him.
‘Where to?’ John asked still looking at the mirror.
‘1146 Trenton Place. It’s in Queens…’ Mohinder answered peeking into his father’s notebook.
After about half a minute of silence the driver continued with his questioning.
‘What’s with your friend?’ he asked.
‘He’s just drunk…’ Mohinder answered quickly, happy that he used alcohol to disinfect Sylar’s wounds.
‘What’s his name…?’ the driver didn’t let his friend (well… Mohinder didn’t actually remember his name or anything… It probably could be called a one-sided friendship) slip away with that little answer.
‘Gab…riel…’ Mohinder answered with hesitation. Of course he made that name up. It was the first word he thought of. ‘Gabriel… Gray…’ he added more certain. The surname was in one of the newspaper articles. A woman with that name was found on the floor of her apartment… Next to her was a picture of a bomb painted from the woman’s blood. The name was quite popular so there was no problem in using it.
The driver continued to ask questions and Mohinder continued to answer them and the responses were mostly made up, like “he hurt himself with a piece of glass”, or “he wanted to celebrate his brother’s diploma”, or “I don’t have a girlfriend!”… Well the last one wasn’t really made up… This way the drive to Sylar’s apartment didn’t take to long.
Mohinder got out of the cab and dragged his unconscious “friend” with him to his home. Just before the door to apartment 1B he placed Sylar on the floor just next to the wall and broke into the room. He put Sylar on a couch and went back and forth in the room for a few times. This time he got a new question. Just what do you do with a half-dead man lying on his own couch?

Fireworks ch01

So, I've been meaning to put in Outsiders (another franz fiction of mine) recently but when I started to read through it I was shocked to see the mistakes I've made. So instead I'm putting in the first chapter from my old heroes fanfic. It's from waaaay back. It takes place after the first series ended and that's when I wrote it. I finished it after a long break though.

Enjoy!

~Photokisser

***

Chapter 1
‘knock, knock’

Buzz buzz…

Noah Bennet stood in front of a big shelf looking blindly at the vibrating phone in his hand. Next to him a little girl in a colorful woolen sweater was picking sweets. The basket was already filled with different-flavored candy and a big range of chocolate bars, but the man didn’t mind that. He was focused on the number he knew from somewhere, but for some reason there was a blind spot in his mind, exactly in the place where the name of the caller should be. He pushed a small button with a green dot on it and placed the cell phone to his ear. Too close…
“He’s here!” a familiar voice full of fear and terror screamed right into Bennet’s ear.
“Mohinder?” Bennet looked blindly at a small packet of gummy bears listening to his friend’s only half understandable and only meaningful mumbling.

30 minutes earlier

Mohinder quickly looked through one of the many newspapers on his desk. He was of course looking for the information about one person. But the name “Sylar” never appeared in any of the articles. Also there was no trace of the man, as if he disappeared into thin air. Mohinder finished checking the last of New York’s newspapers dated for November 16 and pilled it up with the rest. Nothing. He stood up and went towards his bookcase looking around the room. A week has already past since the day when a bright nuclear star appeared on the night sky. Four people disappeared that day. Peter and Nathan Petrelli, Hiro Nakamura and that man… The Asian was probably safe. It was most probable that he teleported himself back to Japan. Peter and Nathan were considered dead. And the last one… Sylar… There were probably less than 30 people in the world who ever heard his name and much more less that actually got to know him. Mohinder still could see the stain of blood on the street. The place where Sylar should lie. Instead there was a trail that…
The Indian caught a glimpse of himself in a piece of glass sticking from the hard, solid wood. He looked tiered like he hasn’t slept for days which was actually the thing he did. Well didn’t do… Every time he closed his eyes he saw the sick smile of his father’s killer. And he also had to take care of everyone which only worsened his st. Molly already moved into his apartment and that required giving his bedroom in charity for medical equipment and toys. Because of that Mohinder had to “sleep” in the living room on a couch (another expense). Also Parkman and DL were staying at the hospital because of their severe damage. Matt was a bit better than the day he was transferred to the hospital, but he was definitely staying in New York for much longer. His wife flew from LA immediately after hearing about what happened. DL in other case had his family already in the city so all they needed to do is to find a place to stay. His condition was much better than the policeman’s. He got only one bullet instead of five and it wasn’t in a dangerous spot. Although the families of these two were with them, Mohinder still had to take care of things like staying at the hospital when they couldn’t be there.
Mohinder pulled the glass out of the wood with big effort and cut his hand by accident. Another problem… he thought looking at the blood flowing down his fingers. It looked just like… He stepped back a few steps keeping the blood away from his face. He quickly covered it with a bandage and hid in his pocket. All just not to see the liquid. All blood reminded him of was Sylar. Especially his own blood. He leaned on his desk as he lost his balance remembering when everything was upside down as he was hanging from the ceiling held only by Sylars powers. Just as he sat on a chair breathing deeply a small girl entered the room. She had a woolen sweater on her and a doggy shaped backpack in her hand.
‘Mohinder?’ Molly tried getting his attention.
‘Oh, right…’ the Indian quickly stood up. He searched his pocket (still hiding his hand) and handed the girl a cellphone. ‘Remember what I told you…’ he started but the girl quickly interrupted.
‘Don’t worry, I remember…’ she convinced him. ‘You say that everyday’
Mohinder smiled. It was true. Each day the two of them went to visit the “Officer Parkman Hero”. Most of the time he was sleeping but Molly still sat next to him and talked. Her disease got worse after that day, but she still wanted to visit the policeman in the hospital. Usually they went there together, but since Mohinder was very tiered Noah Bennet took the pleasure today (and he had a car, which was much more convenient for a sick girl). Although he and Claire returned to Texas he appeared again in the door of Mohinder’s apartment just three days later saying he still has something to do in New York. He stayed in a hotel near the Indian’s home.
‘You’re right’ Mohinder said quietly. ‘Well then… Mr. Bennet called a little while ago… He should be already here. Say hello to Officer Parkman for me, OK?’
The girl nodded. She walked towards the door a bit uncertain. She was still a bit scared of the man who just a week ago pointed a gun at her. The fear was already mostly gone, since he and Mohinder met very often, but she still shivered a little seeing him.

Knock, knock…

Mohinder twiched. Although he knew who was behind the door he still felt a bit uncertain. What if it was him? What if…?
He went towards the door and opened it. A smiling face in glasses was on the other side holding a brown, fuzzy teddy bear in his hand. Mohinder couldn’t help to give a sigh of relief.
‘Hi!’ Noah greeted the Indian and immediately walked passed him giving the little girl the toy. ‘It’s a Texas Teddy Bear’ he said. ‘I used to give Claire bears from around the world’ he explained.
‘Thank you’ as she looked up at Bennet, Molly was still stiff from that little fear she hid inside her.
‘Are we ready?’ he asked.
The girl nodded in agreement. Mohinder went to her and put his hand on her shoulder.
‘Have fun’ he said standing up. He watched as both of them left the room. His eyes wandered around the room with a bit of disappointment. He should clean it already days ago, and the only thing he did was make a new map and throw away the one which he used to hit Sylar. He shivered as that name appeared in his head. He went towards his desk and looked at the broken mug on the floor. He managed to hide most of the places with blood from Molly by putting some rugs and furniture, but he wasn’t able to touch the broken mug which Sylar used to drink from. Well, the girl didn’t mind the mess he made everywhere in the apartment, so there was no problem with that. But his obsession with finding the man who killed his father was big. Very big. Even after Molly didn’t succeed with finding him with her powers he still didn’t stop looking.

Crack…

Mohinder heard a sound of the lock on the door opening. He turned around. The door was still closed. He went towards it to check if the lock really was closed. Then he heard it. The…

…knock, knock…

…he never wanted to hear ever again in his life. He opened the door (surprisingly it wasn’t locked…). The man standing before him was the last and yet the first thing he expected to see. A black cote on it lousily hiding a black shirt soaking with blood. His face was full of small cuts, one of them making a big scratch on his forehead. The blood flew down his face and stopped somewhere in the middle of the way. His left eye was covered in blood enabling him to see with it. Except the coat everything was pretty much ruined. But the weirdest thing was yet to come. The shoe… The man standing in the door was missing one, black trainer with a star and the sign “converse” on it’s side. Mohinder looked at him surprised. Although his condition was severe the Indian could see a small sparkle in his eye and a big grin uncovering his covered in blood teeth. Mohinder had no doubt. It was…
‘Sylar?’