Date: 2008-01-28 05:17 am (UTC)
watchmakers_son: (a good cage)
And when it jolts --








Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

The fluorescent light steadies, bright and bleak. The constriction in Sylar's lungs drops away.

There's no snow; no blood.

But the cold doesn't fade, and Sylar keeps shivering as he gapes at the perfectly ordinary ceiling above him.

It happened again, he thinks, and it's followed by a sudden, bewildering, Maybe they were --

No.


(Then how else can he explain how it works?)
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Gabriel Gray

November 2010

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