Gabriel Gray (
watchmakers_son) wrote2007-12-01 10:48 pm
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1910 Ezekiel Drive, Seattle, WA
Crossing into another world feels no different from crossing into his own. It's late afternoon, the sun hanging low in the sky but not truly setting yet; water keeps dripping from his clothes as he steps onto the porch and lets the back door of Frank Black's house swing closed.
For whatever reason, they've painted it a garishly bright yellow. Sylar eyes the outer wall, then skates his fingers over the doorframe as he pauses, listening for --
There. Childishly high sobs from around the corner.
With a smile, he lifts his fingers away and begins to follow them.
For whatever reason, they've painted it a garishly bright yellow. Sylar eyes the outer wall, then skates his fingers over the doorframe as he pauses, listening for --
There. Childishly high sobs from around the corner.
With a smile, he lifts his fingers away and begins to follow them.
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