My Name is Gabriel? Chapter 1: Vulnerability, a heroes fanfic

MY NAME IS… GABRIEL?

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. The authors are in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter One of Six: Vulnerability

Vulnerability; it was what Sylar, or more accurately Gabriel Gray, was experiencing at this very moment. True, he could not control this wretched mistreatment, but he could not stand the terrible pain that it caused his body, the complete and utter powerlessness of it all.

Through his heavy-lidded eyes, he noticed a very large cockroach crawling a mere two inches away from his face. I am not powerless, he fiercely thought. I am not weak. They will not end me, although they have tried. And it was true. Mr. Bennet, the man to blame for his captivity, and Hank, a medical employee of the Company, had performed several tests upon him, painfully injecting him to the point where he was incapable of coherent speech.

Lying quite still, Sylar began to listen in on Hank and Mr. Bennet having noticed their presence on the opposite side of the looking glass.

"Good news," said Mr. Bennet, "I've been given permission to rid ourselves of Sylar. He will no longer be a problem for us." He stood stock-still before the protective glass and painfully remembered how Eden's body had been mangled between the intricate cracks of the same window.

"Really now?" Hank asked, skeptical. "And how are you planning to go through with that?" He gave a sidelong glance to his co-worker.

Mr. Bennet focused his stare straight through the glass and onto the lethargic body of his prisoner. The sight was menacingly reflected in his horn-rimmed glasses. "I have a friend."

A tall and somewhat mysterious man emerged from the shadows, his skin dark and his expression blank.

"Hollow him out," Mr. Bennet firmly ordered. "Maybe he'll be better off with his next life."

The Haitian silently nodded his head and entered the room, not showing any signs of anxiety whatsoever. He kneeled before Sylar and placed a hand onto his pasty white forehead.

"What are you… doing to me?" Sylar feebly asked. "I… No. No!" He started to flail himself around, struggling and determined to defeat this man. "Too hard. I've worked… too hard…" However, his body refused to agree with what he wanted it to do. He was losing…

TO BE CONTINUED…