A/N This is for a friend who, when discussing where Sylar might have got his ice power from, suggested this, which hadn't actually occurred to me. So all credit for the idea for this came from him. When the police find Molly there are two corpses – one is pinned to the wall, dead. The other is frozen to a chair with the top of his head removed.
Disclaimer: Naturally 'Heroes' is not mine
Ice
The family sat in the comfort of their sitting room, to all appearances happy and content. The sunlight poured through the front windows, catching hold of the swirling dust motes that danced in the air. It spread its warmth over the squashy furniture and fell on the arm of the only child of the family. The girl made a small noise of interest and turned the page of the atlas in front of her, crinkling the paper. She was very young but her attention was fixated on the places and their names.
Her father sat in his chair, peering at her over the top of his glasses as she lay on the carpet reading the book. Smiling proudly his eyes returned to his newspaper.
The mother could be heard moving around in the kitchen.
To all appearances a happy family – but underneath there was tension. Hidden well from the child it still laced the air, only perceptible in the strain around the father's eyes as he glanced warily over to the window every so often.
The front page of the newspaper was plastered with a murder story. The father knew the person that had been killed and he suspected the reason behind it.
There was a knock at the door and the paper stilled in his hand as he froze. The mother appeared in the doorway and caught his eye. Both faces were etched in worry. The child was oblivious to her parent's reaction; she just continued to turn the pages of the book.
The father nodded to the mother. They'd discussed this possibility. They'd prepared for it.
The mother went to stand next to her daughter and shifted both book and child to the sofa, settling her on her lap.
The father got slowly to his feet and went to answer the door. Taking a deep breath he opened it.
"Erm…hi. I'm from the local council. I'm here to check your gas meter."
The father narrowed his eyes suspiciously but recalled the letter he'd received and shrugging he opened the door further and let the man in.
"The meter's through here," the father indicated and walked through the hall - past the half closed sitting room door - leading the stranger into the dining room, towards the kitchen area.
"You've got a very nice home here," the man said smoothly. "A bit big for one. Do you have a family?"
The father froze and turned to examine the gasman. The man's face was blank but there was a look in his eye that chilled blood to ice. The father's eyes dropped to the collar of the stranger's jacket, where a dark patch stained the fabric with a reddish hue.
Both men moved at the same time. Ice poured in a thick stream from the father's fingers as the intruder flicked out a hand – sending him crashing into a wall. Gasping in pain the father looked up into the stranger's blood thirsty eyes, glinting excitedly at the prospect of a kill.
"Who – are – you?" he breathed agonisingly.
A smirk spread across the killer's face.
"Sylar," he stated, and crouched down next to the injured man, looking him over with a faint sneer. "For someone who seemed to be expecting me you didn't really protect yourself very well." His eyes took on a distant mocking look. "And your family…"
Ice shot out and slammed into Sylar's chest, throwing him backwards.
The father pushed himself slowly to his feet and leaned heavily against the wall. He looked down at Sylar's gasping figure as he struggled to draw breath back into his cold body. The father's face was filled with rage but Sylar started to laugh softly and breathlessly from the floor.
"I'm going to enjoy using that," he smiled.
Another cloud of ice hit him.
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In the doorway, unseen, the little girl watched in horror as her daddy fought the bogeyman, her eyes wide at his injuries, before her mother caught her around the waist and pulled her away.
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Breathing heavily the father drew on the last of his strength and started to send waves and waves of ice over Sylar. Finally he collapsed back into one of the chairs at the table – Sylar frozen in place by sheets of ice.
His wife entered the room and came to stand next to him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder, looking concerned.
"Is Molly safe?" he asked wearily.
His wife nodded, "She's hidden."
He sighed in relief and gingerly rubbed his eyes.
Suddenly a crack rent the silence and ice shards shattered everywhere, whizzing through the air.
The mother screamed as her body was peppered by the fragments and she staggered backwards.
The father jumped to his feet but was pushed back into a sitting position by an unseen force. Sylar approached him with burning eyes, hair dusted with ice crystals.
"No more," he growled and pressed the air with his finger.
A movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention and, holding the father in his seat with one hand, flicked the other out behind him.
The mother went crashing into a wall upside down as blood trickled from her numerous cuts. The ornament she'd planned to smash over Sylar's head fell to the floor. With a movement of his head he sent several knives flying from the kitchen and thudding into her body, pinning her lifeless corpse to the wall.
The father made a strangled noise of grief and struggled to get up.
Sylar turned his gleeful eyes back to his cornered victim and smiled.
"And now…" he drew his finger through the air and bathed in the tortured screams.
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In the hidden room Molly Walker squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hands over her ears, desperately trying to shut out her father's agonised cries. Tears coursed down her face and splashed onto the book of maps next to her.
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Sylar wiped his hands leisurely on a cloth and looked down at the body appraisingly.
"You gave me quite a fight," he told it smoothly. "A power worth protecting." He opened his hand and clenched it again slowly. "Maybe I can put it to better use."
He placed a hand on the father's body and watched the corpse slowly freeze. Taking it away again he twisted it in front of his face and smiled.
"A lot better use."