watchmakers_son: (something's not right.)
Gabriel Gray ([personal profile] watchmakers_son) wrote 2007-12-02 06:02 am (UTC)

It's edged

tick

sharply, the sound of her. It peaks, but too fast; it subsides, but too far. And throughout it all there's an unfamiliar susurrus like radio static -- unfamiliar, and twisting strangely into uneasiness the longer he stares.

Sylar pulls his hand away from the rail, swallowing. Through the walls, he can still hear Jordan crying.

"Who are you?"

It's spoken no louder than if she were standing right next to him.

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