I was thinking about how Sylar could be the Scrooge of the 21st century, heartless, uncaring, hateful of everyone around him. With Christmas almost upon us, I thought I'd redo A Christmas Carol, with Sylar as the Scrooge character. Can he change? What brought him to his current circumstance? Is he redeemable?
I do not own Heroes or A Christmas Carol.
If you like it, please review.
A Sylar Christmas Carol
Sylar returned to his dark, nearly empty apartment. He went into the bathroom, and washed the remnants of his latest victim's blood from his hands. He usually came to this apartment when he needed a place to stay. Because he was rarely here, the place was sparsely furnished.
Once he had cleaned up, he made himself a cup of tea, and sat near the vent where what little heat the building furnace could muster up found an exit. He warmed his hands on the cup, not because he needed to get warm, but because it seemed the normal thing to do.
He thought about the latest ability he had stolen. It wasn't exactly something he really needed, now what was it? He shrugged. It didn't really make much difference. Once it had been added to his others, he lost interest in it, and the person from whom he'd stolen it.
The wall clock chimed 12 midnight. Sylar knew it was off by 16 seconds, but he hadn't cared to fix it. He sipped his tea, and sighed. Why did he have to bother with such mundane concerns? He was above that. Hadn't he told that fat detective Parkman, whose body he had been forced to inhabit for way too long, that the world was his hostage? He wanted to be like the Roman emperors who had the power of life and death over their subjects. Caligula was the best. Now there was a man he could admire.
Until recently, Sylar hadn't killed vicariously. He always had a reason, whether to augment his powers, or to remove an obstacle. When he had murdered the tow truck driver right in front of Parkman, he felt a new thrill. That killing was to make a point to Parkman, but other than that, it was a death without any real purpose. And it felt wonderful. He saw the fear in Parkman's eyes. What a rush! Sylar wanted to see that fear in everyone's eyes.
As he sipped the last drops of his tea, Sylar heard a noise from the hallway. He put his cup on the side table, and stared at the door. Someone was definitely out in the hallway. Just before Sylar could rise from his chair, a figure slipped through the door as if it were merely an image made of mist.
"Danko? What the hell are you doing here? Wait! Did you just walk through that door?" Sylar narrowed his eyes as he watched his former partner, if he could be called that, stop a few feet before him. If Danko now had the power to move through solid objects, this might be something Sylar could use.
"Stay where you are. I'm only a shade of my former human life." Danko wore his typical black working suit, but he was covered with belts holding grenades, gas bombs and other paraphernalia that seemed to almost weight him down.
"What are you saying, that you're dead?" Sylar did think that Danko looked more skeletal than he had when he'd last seen him. "How did you die? I certainly didn't do it," he smirked.
"No, it was someone else, someone you've met, in a roundabout way. But I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here to save your soul. If I had been more caring in life, I wouldn't be condemned to walk the Earth after death. I tried to create another existence, one that was apart from my work, one in which I was ordinary. In the end, it made no difference."
Sylar rolled his eyes. "And I'm supposed to care because...?"
"You will be condemned as I am, if you don't repent of your murderous ways! It's my task to give you fair warning, Sylar. Change your ways, or you will die.."
"Wait, wait. I can't die." Sylar protested, laughing.
"...and suffer eternal damnation," Danko continued, heedless of Sylar's protestation.
"Yeah, so what are you going to do, stand up for me at the heavenly gates?" Sylar didn't notice that Danko wasn't laughing at his futile attempts at humor.
"Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits. The first at 1 o'clock, the second at 2, and the third at three."
"Hey, I don't want my sleep disturbed. Why don't you take your three wisemen and go bother Mama Petrelli. Now there's a bitch who could use a lesson in good behavior."
Danko floated towards the small window overlooking the street outside the apartment building. He turned back to look at his former partner. "This is your only chance, Sylar. I suggest you listen to the spirits, before it's too late." He then jumped out the window.
Sylar rose from the chair, and walking to the opening, peered out. There was no body lying on the sidewalk below, as he had expected. In fact, there was no one anywhere. The silence was almost too loud for Sylar. Then he realized he hadn't opened that window. It was too cold out for that foolishness. He reached up, and slammed the framed glass down with a bang. "Damn idiot!" He must have hallucinated the whole thing. Danko wasn't even dead. Or was he?
Sylar headed for the bedroom, and stripping off his clothes, lay beneath the blankets, trying to get warm. The cold should not be affecting him, so why was he shivering.
Well, well, he was going to have company tonight, he thought, chuckling to himself. He uttered a curse, and closed his eyes. Soon, he fell asleep.