claudia matthews ≀ gabriel "sylar" gray (startscreaming) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2011-09-14 17:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | claudia matthews |
WHO. Claudia Matthews, Mr. Matthews, and Claudia's good pal, Sylar.
WHAT. Tying up some loose ends with her father.
WHERE. The Matthews' "family" home.
WHEN. Early Wednesday morning.
WARNINGS. Blood, language, violence, and some horrific topics. Please, PLEASE tread carefully.
"Hi, Daddy," greeted the sweet voice. Arthur's back, still caught in the doorway that led to the garage, went rigid. She could see it in his spine, affecting the way he now froze, as if somehow rooted to the spot. Claudia smiled, her legs crossed neatly, one over the other, while they dangled off the side of the countertop. The bright yellow of her shirt caught hold of the sun's rays peeking in through the sink's window, and she looked to be glowing. Each of her fingers - every nail painted a deep black - tapped the tiles of the counter and she watched as her father turned to face her. He still appeared the same as he had in her nightmares. This time, however, she saw a panic in his eyes. Good. "Hello, Princess. It's been a while," The door behind him slammed shut and as a quick reflex, he stepped forward hastily. Claudia knew it took all his effort to refrain himself from showing any flicker of fear. He always thought himself unafraid of anything. Untouchable. "Does - does your mother know that you're here? I'm sure that she'll be thrilled to see you." His arms folded against his chest. Claudia remained where she was, her Converse sneakers swaying innocently. Her smile widened, but she said nothing. "She's been wanting to apologize. I know you two haven't always seen eye-to-eye -" "I told John." Her father's eyes wandered from the start of her thigh, just beneath the hem of her small jean shorts, to her face for the first time in years. "Oh yeah? How's he doing? You two don't visit anym-" "Aren't you going to ask me what I told him?" Claudia frowned, her head tilting enough for a few strands of her hair to come frame the side of her jaw. She watched as Arthur's weight shifted on his legs. He placed his hands on the hips of his waistband and laughed at the back of his mouth. She remembered that laugh. It would make her skin crawl in the darkness. He shook his head. "Alright, I'll bite - whadja tell him?" Claudia's long legs hopped down to the kitchen floor, feet landing with a near inaudible thump. A moment of silence passed between the two of them and she listened carefully, the sound of his heart skipping a beat in his chest. She doubted Arthur would catch that. But she and Sylar would never forget the way it echoed in her ear. "Everything." Arthur's eyebrows raised high over his eyes. He was amused, the corner of his mouth hanging from his cheek in a grin. "I have.. no idea what you're talking about, kiddo. I mean, nothing comes to mind. Was this about school, or...?" His voice trailed off. He was treating this like a joke only they shared. As if somewhere in the past he'd called their grotesque history a game that was over and they were now free to laugh about over a campfire. "Look, why don't you come out into the living room. We can catch up, maybe grab a drink." Arthur's feet moved two steps toward her. Claudia remained still, taking in a silent breath through her nostrils. "We could bring it up to your room, if you'd like." There it was. He remembered. Arthur always remembered. Every surrounding door locked tight of its own accord. Arthur's head perked up, breaking the daze he'd let himself fall into, and he glanced at each and every one. "What was that? Who else is here?" He spat through his teeth as he spoke to her this time. His composure maintained itself, but it made no difference - the creature she knew so vividly had already been released. One look was all Sylar needed, all she needed, to know that this was right. Here was where she had to be. Doing this. Growing up. Moving forward. "It's just me, Daddy." Claudia blinked at him, but he lunged forward, unconvinced. Backing up and into the counter on her own, she raised her right hand, her index finger and middle pointed directly at Arthur. He'd been telekinetically stopped in his tracks, but his feet were still positioned in the run he'd intended on making toward her. He glanced around, anger contorting his face. Claudia took her move forward this time, her head leaning in the other direction to get a better look at her father. "And me." The voice belonged to Sylar. Sylar explained himself at length to Claudia, told her who he really was. He claimed to be different. "Afraid" of whether or not she would accept him, he told her his secrets, showed her almost all that he could do. All that she could now do. Together, they could be unstoppable. Immortality was trivial in comparison to the tricks Sylar was now bringing to her life. She possessed enough power to stand up to someone like her, and even more than enough to stand up to someone like her father. Gabriel once lived as she did, so scared, just wanting to be extraordinary. Sylar planned on showing her just how extraordinary she was. "What the fuck are you talking about, you little slut?!" Flecks of saliva shot from Arthur's mouth. His heartbeat was pounding in Sylar and Claudia's head now. Sylar hoped Claudia would take every increase in the noise and cherish it, just as he had oh, so many times before. "Slut?" Sylar continued to speak for Claudia, the one word twisting around his tongue with a disgusted squeeze, "Look at you, Mr. Matthews. So powerless. So ... unimportant. So useless that the only insult you can think of is a bastardized nickname for your own lust." Claudia's other hand came and she prodded her sharpest nail into the canvas of her father's forehead to emphasize the deadly sin. "We always knew you were fucking crazy. And now here you are. Talking like some kind of fucking deranged lunatic." "But she isn't, Arthur. Crazy, I mean. In fact, our dear, sweet Claudia is the sanest girl I've ever known. She sees it now. She understands. All those years of you tearing her apart, ripping her innocence into shreds, piece by piece. You tried to keep her in the dark." Claudia's lips pursed, her hand still elevated. She twisted her wrist and one of her father's hands reached up above his head. His head looked toward it, but Claudia wiggled her pinkie and his neck snapped into place with a sharp, whip-like crack. "Pay attention, Arthur. We haven't even gotten to the good part yet." Arthur made a face, straining where he was standing, but still he could not budge. "How the fuck are you doing this?! What the fuck do you want? Money? Huh? You want me to apologize?!" He hocked something in his throat that indicated he meant to spit, but Claudia's left hand rose and flapped her fingers shut. Arthur's mouth did the same, closing up simultaneously. "You and your wife. You always wanted Claudia to be special, didn't you? You wanted her to be what Jonathan could never be. You thought you'd try again. But you went the extra mile, Arthur. Even to a monster like myself, you sank kinda low." Claudia chuckled. Her right hand opened up and Arthur's body darted across the room until his back was pinned against the opposite wall. Pictures of sunflowers and daisies fell from their hooks, smashing into shards on the faux-tiled floor. Both her arms spread out and the flatness of Arthur's hands were pressing behind him. "Well, look at her now." Claudia looked down at herself, then focused directly on her father. Who began to laugh. Tears formed in the wrinkles of his eyes and he began to howl toward the ceiling. "You bitch. You crazy little bitch. Don't you see? You were special. I showed you just how special you are." Arthur looked at his daughter, his face outlined in sleazy desire and a darkness one man should not have heralded to. "And you enjoyed every fucking second of it." Sylar could feel a ripple of fear erupt in Claudia's gut, and he knew that this wasn't going to be enough. Allowing her and him to utilize their gifts all at once was rendered useless if Claudia was going to doubt her own ability. Do it. Please. Help me, Gabriel. Without another thought, each drawer opened up and every available utensil elevated from their compartments. Arthur's eyes darted around, looking to the way the sharp silver glistened in the early morning light. "You didn't show her anything, Arthur. I did. I've helped make her into something better than you ever could. Of course, I do have to thank you." Out of all the kitchen utensils, only the knives came forward, hovering over Sylar's shoulders. They rotated slowly, each of them twisting and twirling like chickens on a spit. "Without your need to destroy everything you touch, Claudia and I never would have met. And now? She's all mine." The largest cutting knife moved between their two bodies. Its sharp tip poked Arthur directly in the stomach, drawing a minute droplet of blood that seeped through his white work shirt. His mouth was shut tight again, but with Sylar taking full control of Claudia, there was no need for him to busy his hands. It was all in the mind. Just as Claudia's delusions of her father's control were. The knife began to twirl again, slower than the others this time. A sick, squishing noise sounded as the blade met his flesh fully and began spinning into his gut. Blood seeped outward and all Arthur could do was scream into his closed mouth. Sylar watched, hands still outstretched as he kept the other knives rotating overhead. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" He asked, and Arthur's mouth was released. He yelled out from the top of his lungs, gurgling on his own spit this time. "A little louder, Arthur." The man did as was commanded of him, banging his head back into the wall to release a howl of pain. Blood dribbled down his legs until it was pooling down at the floor. "Please-" He gasped hoarsely, shaking his head furiously. "I'm - I'm sorry, I - I." "You're lying. I can feel it. Kind of .. tickles. Try again." The knife came out of Arthur's gut, the blade now pointing itself directly between his legs. Sylar allowed all the other items to fall, leaving only the single knife suspended at its prey. They fell with clanks and clinks and Arthur took the opportunity to shout again, a tear falling from his face. "You know, that was almost convincing. But you and I both know it takes more than a few sniffles to make yourself believe it, don't we?" The knife plunged point first into Arthur's groin, slicing with such force it hit the wall behind him, and his mouth closed up without his consent. Sylar watched as color sank from the man's face. He screamed so noiselessly vessels appeared to burst within his skin. The red puddle grew larger, streams of hot tears falling to meet Arthur's chest. His knuckles grew white and every vein stood out, pronounced against the flushed tone of his skin. His eyes were shut tight, but when he opened them again, he would see Claudia, aged seven in her favorite pink dress and her hair in bouncing ringlets. "I don't normally do this kind of thing. You see, when I kill, I reserve my time for those with a gift - with something that makes them unique. I take it from them, just as you took Claudia's innocence away from her. But do you want to know what makes us so different, Arthur? What makes me the better monster?" Sylar glanced upward, Claudia's small form looking into the source of her most horrifying nightmares. "You're nothing special." Arthur's body fell forward, into the blood and glass lathered across the kitchen floor. A few drops stained the front of the young Claudia's dress, but she stood there and watched. He laid on the floor, breathing in through his mouth, gasping for air like a fish out of water. Arthur did not speak. He did not move. Sylar snapped his wrist to the side, and Arthur's body flipped over. He grimaced, sobbing into the blood that covered his face. Sylar took a step forward. I've got it. Claudia placed one foot on her father's Adam's apple, still maintaining the appearance of her younger self. "I'm not crazy. I never was. You helped to make me who I am. I'll never forget that. But now, it's time for me to grow up. You're not the monster under my bed anymore. I am. I'm special. I was always special. You? All you've ever been is a lying piece of shit. You manipulated me. You took advantage of me when all I needed was a father. You enjoyed it, too. And I'm going to enjoy this." Arthur croaked something, but Claudia pressed her foot in deeper. "NO. You've had your chance to talk. You both have. This is me now. Now, shhh. I need you to be very, very quiet," she repeated the lines she'd heard her father whisper to her one night too many. "It's time to play the game again. Remember? It only hurts for a little while. Don't cry. Mommy'll hear you." Claudia pointed her index finger outward until she had it lined up with her vision of her father's forehead. She stopped for a moment, pretending to look surprised. "Oh, wait - I killed her, too." She lifted her finger once more. While she dragged the point, a high-pitched squeal rang out, like a saw cutting open the front of her father's forehead. A line of blood began to pour across Arthur's face and he screamed into the bright, effervescent Wednesday morning. "Goodbye, Daddy." |