Disclaimer: Heroes isn't mine. This is based on the song 'In the dark of the night' in the film 'Anastasia'


In the dark of the night

He gasped awake. Images of heads sliced in half floated in front of his eyes as blood poured down the victims faces, into their dead, glazed eyes, dark and thick. He could still hear the sounds of their screams in his ears. A shudder passed over him and he put a hand to his forehead gingerly. The last victim had been him. He'd stared into his own eyes as dream him had sneered at his futile struggles and slowly started to cut into his head. The pain had been so real he'd been afraid that he'd really been subconsciously using his power on himself.

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair and waited for the dream to fade away back to the recesses of his mind. The nightmare hadn't been all that surprising. Some part of his mind abhorred what he did to his victims and though it didn't affect Sylar in the slightest as he made the kill and washed his hands in his victim's blood, the unconscious Gabriel remembered it as he slept and the images surfaced.

Sylar breathed in and shut his eyes again. Noises from the next apartment came to him, the silent, even breathing of its inhabitants as they slept. A slow smirk spread across his face and his eyes opened again as he remembered.

His powers were back.

Reaching out his mind he flicked the light switch on and then back off again, letting the darkness blind him and press on his eyes. It was amusing that he'd had a nightmare about himself. Sylar slipped out of the bed and stepped over to the window drawing back the curtains and staring down at the street below. If he was his own nightmare, then how much more of a nightmare would he be to the ones he hunted?

One side of his mouth curved into a twisted half-smile that abruptly faded as his thoughts drifted onto those people he had failed to destroy.

His eyes flashed as he remembered and a low burning anger ignited inside him. The place where the sword had been plunged into him started to ache and he pressed his fingers to it with a growl. All that had occurred, his loss of power, had been because he had been stabbed…and he'd only been stabbed because he had failed to kill Claire Bennett. Sylar closed his eyes and leaned his head against the glass. He didn't like the idea that he'd…failed, especially since it was such an important matter. Failure was unacceptable.

Sylar's eyes flew open and he smiled slyly.

Failure had to be rectified.

'Beware, Miss Bennett. Sylar's awake," he whispered over the sleeping city.

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Claire jerked awake. Drawing breath back into her body in huge shuddering gasps she attempted to calm herself and stop the trembling. Damn nightmares. She couldn't believe that she was still suffering for the events that had occurred all those months ago. At least now though she had a routine to chase the nightmares away.

Claire reached out to switch on her bedside lamp but only a dull click answered her efforts. Groaning in frustration Claire slipped out of her warm bed and headed for her bedroom light. Bulb must have blown. Typical.

A shiver went down her spine as she stepped through the darkness – all the more so because she slept with her bedroom door shut. The nightmare still lingered at the edge of her mind, making her feel nervous.

Reaching out she snapped on the light switch.

Nothing happened.

Claire felt cold douse her body as the memory of the lights flickering out at school swept through her mind, fresh and real thanks to the nightmare.

"Okay," she whispered soothingly to herself, trying to ignore the tremor in her voice. Nervously she glanced around her room. There weren't any extra shadows and the window was still shut.

Regardless, everything tensed and she started to tremble.

"Dad," she whimpered, before remembering that her father was no longer living with them.

A patch of darkness moved.

Panic lanced through her and she wrenched at the door.

It didn't budge.

Claire spun back around. A figure of shadows was outlined in the black.

"Sylar," Claire breathed, voice laced with fear.

"Claire," the shadow replied as if savouring the word.

Adrenaline pulsed through her. Claire's eyes darted to the window and taking a deep breath she ran up and dived through.

Glass clinked as it rained down around her and shattered on the ground next to her crushed body.

Stiffly Claire got to her feet as bones crunched back into place and glanced back at her window.

The figure stood calmly in the jagged hole, watching her intently with burning eyes.

Claire ran.

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Sylar stared after the retreating figure, an emotionless expression on his face. Without warning anger flashed across it and several objects flew off Claire's shelves, smashing against the walls. He had to wait longer. Slowly he turned his head back to look at Claire's bedroom door. He knew the mother and brother were here…but…his eyes flicked back to where Claire had disappeared – his ears picking up the sound of her feet on concrete – he hadn't had to chase his victim before. Wouldn't that make the power all the more satisfying to obtain? And to catch this one when she had evaded him for so long…His eyes glittered in anticipation.

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The dark streets were eerily quiet as Claire staggered to a halt, gasping for air almost sobbing. She could feel him closing in. As far as she ran he always seemed to know where she was. Every time she stopped for breath she caught a moving shadow out of the corner of her eye and fear would rush through her and she'd bolt again.

Now she leaned heavily against a low wall running through a square and heaved in great shuddering breaths.

The paved area was completely empty, lit by dim street lights that reflected off the black polished ground. The deathly silence was only broken by the trickle of water from the fountain.

Claire turned around…and came face to face with Sylar.

Her face froze in an expression of horror and he slowly smiled.

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Sylar reached out with his power and grasped Claire by the throat, lifting her bodily from the floor.

"I'm really going to enjoy this," he said silkily and reached out a finger.

Every person he killed carried some sort of satisfaction in their defeat and his acquisition of power but the sound of her screams were the most satisfying ones he'd heard.