watchmakers_son: (the end)
Gabriel Gray ([personal profile] watchmakers_son) wrote 2008-02-06 04:44 am (UTC)

Too late, Sylar realizes why he recognizes the first voice. His eyes widen.

"Wait," he tries to cough out, but the voice is already gone, replaced by nearly inaudible footsteps ticking down the hall.

The vertigo spins faster. Hissing, Sylar shuts his eyes and fumbles at the sheets, trying to drag them closer for warmth.

Outside the window, there's a faint chorus of cawing.

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