I hate New York. It's one of the biggest cities in the nation, and that's probably the exact reason I hate it. Too many overachieving yuppies living in an overpriced, overpopulated city, trying to get a sense of normalcy. And if they aren't overachieving rich yuppies, they are poor and desperate for a life of some sort of interest, and for some reason, New York is the place to be for those requirements. New York seems entirely too trendy and congested. Granted, I live in Miami and the very same argument can be made, but I have an excuse, I was raised there. Poor excuse. I'd still be happier there than New York. The only reason I'm here is because I'm on the hunt. This guy seems to be quite the killer, and I mean that more than just literally. The pictures were quite disturbing. A body laying in a pool of blood so thick you couldn't see a trace of the floor, eyes open, and top of the head cut completely off in such a smooth cut right around the skull. It was perfect. Too perfect. There was no damage to the brain whatsoever. There seemed to be no traces of the use of a knife, saw, anything that could have caused the skull to be cut so easily and neatly. It was artistry. I'm not sure if I should murder this guy, or exchange homicide tips. No, he's definitely going to die. I've been waiting outside of this warehouse way too long for him to just not kill him. Besides, a serial killer this good and this infamous needs someone to bring him there. If the NYPD and the FBI can't, it's all up to me.
And there he was... walking down the street so casually, with the black baseball cap on his head, and a hood over top of it. I glance down at the picture sitting in my lap. Oh yeah. That's him alright. While he didn't have a chilling appearance, he had a blood-curdling stare. It was as if he was born to be terrifying. He had such a handsome face, but when he grinned, you became weak. His stare was enough to scare you if the murdering wasn't. His stare could make you feel like the whole word was drained of any emotion and you had nothing left to feel. I didn't need his stare for that. It was in my programming to lack emotion. I bet this Gabriel Sylar guy had emotion. His stare was too devastating for him to not feel anger. I just wish I knew his motive. All serial killers had a motive. The sad thing is, most of the time, the motive was just boredom or addiction. I understand the addiction. Once you got a taste for murder, and received any sort of sick satisfaction from it, you were hooked. My satisfaction was that I was slowly ridding the world of people who killed innocent people for pleasure. Hypocrite? No. I do not kill innocent people. That's my motive. I kill people who kill others that don't deserve it.
This guy was too easy. He didn't even try to hide. Didn't even take a second to look at his surroundings. I slip in the warehouse just seconds after he does. I think I might even be looking forward to this. This is it.
*
He thinks I don't know he's there. I could hear his breathing the second I turned the corner. It was calm. Too calm. He'd done this before. Spied on people. Stalked them. It was as if this was a habit. I possessed the same habit. I hide in dark corners. In alleyways. In abandoned buildings. I steal identities and pretend to be somebody else all to get closer to somebody that had something I wanted. No. I didn't just want it. I craved it. I thirsted for it. I needed it. I needed whatever power they had, and I always got it. So, what does this guy have that I could take? Or maybe I had something he wanted. He was the one following me. His breaths were even with his footsteps, and his footsteps were even with mine. What does he want? Where is he from? Who is he? How can I turn this around so that I can be the one following him? What is going to become of this game? He has to be at least nine yards behind me. He's trying to keep his breathing low and his footsteps quiet. He's trying to sneak up on me. We'll see how well he can be sneaky with me. Nobody can be sneaky with me. Nobody. It is the reason I have yet to fail and getting what I want. And I'll never fail. And right now, I want this guy to stop.
So I stop. And so does he. But I don't turn around. I keep my back turned to him. He's not worthy of seeing my face. I no longer hear his footsteps, but his heart speeds up and his breathing gets the slightest bit heavier. I smile. Nothing is more satisfying than witnessing somebody being scared of you. We haven't even exchanged words yet, and I'm already increasing his heart rate. It's way too much fun being me, and having the abilities I have.
"I can hear your heart beating." And just like that, it beats faster. I tap my foot on the floor in unison with the pattern of his heart. I have yet to turn around. I just wanted to hear him respond. I needed to hear his voice. I needed to figure him out. Was he a healer? A flyer? A mindreader? Oh, I would love to be able to time travel. "Just like that. Ba-ba-bump, ba-ba-bump, ba-ba-bump. Why so nervous?" He swallows. I can hear that too. Either he can't think of an answer, or he's choosing not to speak. Maybe if he stays quiet, I'll think nobody is there? Wrong, Mr. Mysterious. I really can hear you. Your footsteps, your heartbeat and your breathing. "You've got quite the ear." And he speaks. He doesn't sound scared, though. How disappointing. I was hoping to dampen the mood, and put him into a state of fear. He really has done this before. His heartbeat even slowed down, back to normal. He couldn't possibly know what I'm capable of, or he wouldn't be here. Or... maybe we are one in the same. Is it possible that he is just as powerful as I? Or maybe he's not, and just wants what I possess. I need to know.
"And you've got such courage." I open my hand and spread my fingers, and slowly I push my weight down onto my heel. Then, I spin around, shooting lightening into his direction. There is no way he didn't go down without an electric shock. But when my eyes adjust to the darkness, nobody is there. Gone. I can't even hear his breathing or heartbeat. He escaped. But how? And where?
*
Lightening. Incredible. I've heard about these guys, or at least the theories on them. There have been reports back in Miami about these people. These mutants. These people somehow possessed superhuman abilities like flying or reading minds. I always thought it seemed a little odd, and had trouble believing such a thing was possible. Gabriel, however, proved me wrong. He shot lightening out of his hand, and had I been in range, I probably would have been killed. Interesting. I only moved to find and easier way to sneak up on him, and it ended up saving my life for an additional few minutes. Regardless, he had the ability to shoot lightening from his hands. This complicates things. He can shoot lightening out at me at any possible moment and I wouldn't have a clue. And his hearing. He said he could hear my heart beating. I remained quite calm up until that point. How was it possible he could hear my heart beating from that much of a distance? He must have amplified hearing. Given he is superhuman, it is quite possible. That also complicates things. It's difficult to be illicit when your victim-to-be has amplified hearing and can shoot lightening from his hands. Gabriel Sylar could be quite the challenge.
I love a challenge. It gives me a rush knowing that I had to give an intense amount of effort to gain my victim even before killing them. I can't wait to get my hands on this guy. I'll admit, I'll be quite proud of myself when the task at hand was done. I've never felt pride in myself, but seeing as I had the disadvantage, success would be something to give me pride. Harry never trained me on a situation such as this. I guess he never had been in this sort of situation. It would make sense. Reports of these people have only been recently, and Harry has been dead for years. I'm dedicating this one to him. This is one is for you, Harry. I stand in the corner, watching him rotate his head, trying to figure out what had just happened. He thought he had me. He thought he would get out of here with another skull to call his own. I try not to breathe too intensely, and I keep calm. There was no way I was going to allow him to fail me just because he can hear me.
"I know you're still here. There's only one way out." I sink low to the ground and stay in the shadows. He slowly turned on his heels. I managed to stump him. He can't see nor hear me and it was a beautiful thing. The frustrated look on his face is the reason I keep doing this. I slide along the floor. Walking is too risky and he could possibly hear my footsteps. Hell, he can hear my footsteps if he can hear my breathing and heartbeat. "Oh. I understand now. You are like me. You are special. You possess invisibility. I can't wait to try that one." I stop and I smile. A motive. He's got one. He kills others and takes their power. If he can shoot lighting, and amplify his hearing, what else can he do? This will be more difficult than I thought.
"Guess again." I risk it, I jumped up behind him and throw a cord around his throat, and he drops to his knees. "I'm not special, and neither are you. You are a monster."
Then all the sudden, my body slammed against the wall. One minute he was gasping for breath, and the next, he has me pinned against the wall, strangling me, but he does not have a hand on me. Telekinesis? What can't he do?