Sylar twisted and turned. His sheets had become a warped bundle of fabric, wrapped uncomfortably around his legs and waist. He muttered to himself while sleeping, slurred and disjointed sentences escaping his dry lips.
Minutes later, his eyes wrenched open. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, he sighed. It was 3:00 am. Three hours of sleep was not enough, he knew. Angrily, he forced himself from the bed and hobbled over to the room's full-length mirror. He stared at his own reflection for a few moments but eventually headed toward the bathroom.
He washed quickly in the shower, cleaning his tired body with a washcloth. Long burn marks and scars still marred his chest and shoulders from past fights, so he had to take extra care in avoiding those areas while he scrubbed. He shampooed his newly-cut hair, noticing a small hitch in his movements. His fingers had snagged on skin near the back of his skull.
Gingerly, he felt through his hair again, recalling the place where the company had put a shunt in his head. The area was bleeding slightly, turning his shampoo pink. Scowling, Sylar rinsed his hair. He dried off using a fluffy white towel, staining it fuchsia, and threw on a pair of jeans and a black tee.
Tucking his key-card into his back pocket, he exited the hotel. The watchmaker stumbled out into the late-night streets of downtown Dayton, looking utterly fatigued. He strode along the sidewalk, nearly choking when he passed a few men smoking in an alley. Hearing the thugs whisper rude things about him, Sylar flipped the lot of them over telekinetically. They had no idea it was his doing.
He smiled, knowing that he could do much worse damage if he wished. While he continued down the street, he noticed a shadowed figure standing behind him. "You're not very good at following people, are you?" Sylar asked, turning to face the person who had been stalking him.
It was a girl, he realized. She didn't look a day over twenty. She was a blonde, too, wearing a very revealing halter top, a plaid skirt, and high heeled boots. "No, not really," She beamed. "But it's not safe to be walking all alone 'round here."
Sylar raised an eyebrow, skeptically. "Ah, so you were just looking out for my safety." He said, sarcastically. The girl giggled.
"Well, a handsome guy like yourself could be picked up by any old girl on a night like this. I figured I should at least try to keep an eye out for 'ya." She explained.
The murderer was already bored of this. He rolled his eyes and continued onward, ignoring the girl still following him. Suddenly, he felt a hand grab his arm, long manicured nails digging into his pale flesh. "What the hell?" He questioned, quietly. The girl pulled him playfully down the street, holding his arm tightly.
"Come on, Gabriel. Let's have some fun." She whispered, still clinging to Sylar.
His eyebrows raised, he ripped from the girl's grip. "How do you know that name?" He asked, cornering her.
She scratched her head nervously. She didn't quite know how to explain herself. Generally she didn't just blurt out the information she received from a person's aura. "Um…" She began, but was cut off by a wave of ill-intention coming from Gabriel Gray.
Though the man in front of her hadn't yet made a move, she knew he was planning to soon. And, surely enough, Gabriel slammed her into the brick of a nearby apartment building with one hand. Her feet were inches off the ground, and the hand around her throat was causing her to gag.
"Wait!" She croaked, "Just let me go for a moment, then I'll explain. Okay, honey?" Her voice remained just as sweet and steady as it had been before she was attacked.
Sylar opened his hand, letting the girl fall to the ground. She coughed and sputtered, but eventually stood up to face him. He held his left hand out, ready to stop her if necessary.
"I can read auras," The strange girl admitted, "Basically, I canfeel people's emotions, intentions, and, occasionally, their names."
She worried that Gabriel would think she was crazy, but she decided it was worth telling him. Running her fingers through her hair, she noticed his expression change drastically. His once-furious face seemed to melt away, leaving his features calm. This physical change in appearance was accompanied by a change in his aura as well. She could sense greed, excitement, and a twisted need to inflict pain.
"Oh shit." She whispered, bolting straight toward her apartment, using Gabriel's momentary distraction to get away. Turning back, she saw the man chasing her. After quite a lot of running, she flipped around to see Gabriel in the middle of the street, his chest heaving.
A pang of disappointment hit her, but it was not her own.