The DescentMature

Demon Mohinder's backstory.

Although Noah Bennet, with help from his underground connections, had managed to convince the world that Claire’s jump from the Ferris wheel was a huge, orchestrated hoax, the Specials knew the real story behind that fateful day. They knew… and they talked. Word quickly spread of not only the cheerleader and Peter’s actions, but also of how Sylar managed to help out too. How Sylar saved Emma. Not only saved her, but didn’t kill anyone in the process either. The serial killer was now being praised.

Sylar the hero, some were calling him.

The longer this went on – the man who had killed countless people now being hailed as a hero – the more black hatred grew in Mohinder’s heart. One act of good did not erase the body count that Sylar had left in his wake. That same body count that had included Mohinder’s father – Chandra - and had come desperately close to including Molly Walker had Matt not intervened. No, Sylar was not trying to kidnap the young child to play tea party with her. She would have been a victim like the rest. A monster such as him had no right to live, much less be accepted by the others. Sylar could turn on them any moment. They wouldn’t see it coming. Many Specials could get injured or killed when the hunger decided to show up again.

Mohinder couldn’t allow this to happen. So with determination, he began working nonstop, developing a plan of action to finally put the murderer to death - a death that was rightfully deserved in Mohinder’s eyes, especially after the geneticist had gotten a chance to read over the full casualty report. All he could do was shake his head, dark curls accentuating his disappointment and an almost hopeless frown covering his face. Once glossed over eyes skimmed over a certain name, he could not keep his demeanor subdued any longer. “That bastard…” he growled out under his breath. “She didn’t deserve death.” …Elle Bishop.

Just as he was about to do something he’d probably regret later, there was a knock at the door. Out of habit, he called out, “Just a moment, please.” Ugh, now was not the time for visitors. After taking a few deep breaths and combing fingers through his locks, he straightened his shirt and walked over to the door to peek through the peephole. What he got in return was an image that caused him to nearly lose his breath. This couldn’t be. Glancing to the side, he spotted his faithful gun and without a second thought, tucked it into the back of his jeans - under his shirt - before opening the door.

And once that door was open, Mohinder didn’t even have time to utter a greeting before he was being tackled with affection. This visitor was invading his personal space as if it was nothing. “It’s a pleasure, Elle.” Of course he was glad to see her and returned the embrace. Yes, this could be a shapeshifter playing a trick on him, but if it was really her, he wanted to enjoy the moment. “But you… I thought you were…? How did you…?” He didn’t have the heart to actually say the words out loud.

With a confident grin, Elle looked up at him. “Easy – Claire’s blood.” With that seemingly out of the way, her blue eyes began to drift from his and made their way down to his lips. “I missed you. You were the only one who treated me decently. You protected my dad. You protected me. I feel safe in your arms.” Her tone was a dreamy, mesmerizing one and she did not waste time closing the gap between their lips and pulling his body flush against hers as if she was on the verge of starvation and the only thing that could satisfy her hunger was his warmth.

Although Mohinder didn’t expect this, emotion took over and he did not question it for a moment, instantly returning the kiss and not giving a second thought of how unusually strong Elle’s pull on him felt – physically and emotionally. No, all that was pushed aside so that he could enjoy the taste of her lips, the smell of her perfume mixed with the scent of her shampoo, and the way her fingertips felt pressing against his back… and ass. “Mmph!” he squeaked into the kiss as she squeezed his rear, trying not to break contact. He knew that Elle could be a bit hands on, so this wasn’t a huge surprise.

As she pulled away, she gave one last, slow suck on his bottom lip and smirked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I have a gift for you. I know you’ll like it.” And then she proceeded to retrieve something from outside, in the hallway.

While she managed that, Mohinder attempted to regain his composure - clearing his throat, straightening his curls, and ensuring his shirt was long enough to cover up any effects she might have been having on him. There was something off somewhere; a part of him began to notice. That was quickly pushed aside though, because she knew about the time he saved Bob Bishop. Only those present would have known that little fact. This was the real Elle, he decided.

As she brought the object into the room, Mohinder’s ears couldn’t help but notice the sounds coming from it. It appeared to be an old, beat up trunk and was apparently big enough to fit a person into, as the noises suggested. Had he been thinking clearly, he would have wondered how she was able to get such a thing into the building on her own, but at the moment he was more concerned about who was in the trunk. “Elle, what have you done? Please do not make me regret the moment we shared a minute ago,” he sighed out, trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.

In response, Elle crossed her arms and gave a smug grin before nodding toward the chest. “I’ve brought you what you deserve - what you have been craving for so long…”

Mohinder’s eyes darted from hers to the lock on the chest before he began to approach it with caution. Although he wasn’t sure what she had meant exactly, he knew that he needed to open the chest either way. Whoever was inside could suffocate soon. With held breath, he easily ripped off the padlock before lifting the lid. What he found caused his jaw to drop and brows to jump. Sylar?

“…Revenge,” Elle finished, her grin widening as she witnessed Mohinder’s reaction to her present. This pleased her.

Sylar, doing his best to break free, attempted to speak, but it was not only his arms and legs that were wrapped in duct tape, but also his mouth as well. As he moved inside the box, his eyes seemed to plead as though he expected Mohinder to help him.

Mohinder watched the serial killer squirm in front of him, as if he was trying to tell him something. His expression wasn’t one of defiance but of pure terror - totally out of character for Sylar. Tilting his head, the geneticist attempted to make sense of all this. Yes, Elle could be a holy terror, but… why did he appear as though he was so frightened? How did she capture him? Why wasn’t he using his powers?

Just as Mohinder was reaching forward to snatch the tape from Sylar’s mouth, Elle grabbed his wrist. “And just what are you doing? His muffled screams are just as good as real ones. He knows he’s going to die. Poor thing,” she said in a mocking tone. Taking his wrist, she pulled him up to his feet. “He’s powerless. How will you go about it?” she inquired, lips making a move for his neck. After showering a few kisses, her tongue began to run over his dark skin, encouraging him to do as she wanted him to.

This was it. This was what he’d been waiting for and Elle brought it to him on a silver platter. Oh gods, her tongue felt like heaven as it slithered across his neck. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was putting him in some sort of trance. But no, this was what he’d wished for. It was time. One arm wrapped around her waist as the other went for the gun at his back.

A devilish, high pitched giggle could be heard from Elle as she watched in anticipation. Once she saw the gun though, her smile faded and she sighed in annoyance. “No. Not like that, sweety.” Again, she took his wrist, this time pulling the gun along until it was pointed at her. While looking up at him with puppy eyes, she directed the cold metal across her ample cleavage. “Please, do to him what he did to your father, my father… me. I want blood,” she whispered in a commanding tone.

Mohinder couldn’t decide if he was disgusted or aroused by all this as he stared at her, at the gun, and the very appealing trail that the barrel was taking across her skin. “I-I’m not sure. I mean…” After swallowing hard, he looked from her to Sylar, his expression becoming even more determined. “As you wish, Elle,” he finally said as he placed the weapon to the side.

***

When all was said and done, Sylar’s scalp was placed to the side, thrown on the floor like a common piece of trash. In its place was a royal blue Prada pump, heel firmly lodged deep within the now dead killer’s brain. That was Elle’s touch, of course.

Mohinder’s bronze skin was splattered with blood and his pulse continued to race with adrenaline from the heat of the moment as he stared at Sylar’s lifeless corpse, unsure of how to feel about this. There were many different emotions flowing through him. On one hand, he was relieved now that everyone was completely safe from the man. On the other, what if Sylar truly was beginning to turn over a new leaf?

Elle, though, appeared to have found the display quite thrilling, as her hands firmly roamed over Mohinder’s broad chest under his shirt, her lips pressed against his ear, and her body subtly moving against his. “You did the right thing, Momo. You are my chocolate soldier. You have avenged our fathers. You avenged me. And now you are exactly like me,” she purred out as a hand went to play along his treasure trail.

“Wait.” Her last sentence stirred him from the gaze and he placed a hand over hers that was currently trying to go for the gold, holding it to his stomach. “What do you mean I’m exactly like you? Please, no games, Elle. This is a serious matter. Do not speak in riddles to me. I’m not a killer. That was revenge. There is a difference.”

Elle giggled in reply before whispering something under her breath that Mohinder couldn’t quite make out. It didn’t sound like English though, and caused him to feel nauseous. She frowned but began rubbing his stomach and back in a comforting manner. “You’ll only feel strange for a little bit. Then all of eternity will be ours,” she reassured him as she lifted his hand to lick the blood from it.

Wincing in pain, Mohinder stared at Elle as though she’d lost her mind. “What in the bloody hell are you going on about? And, what are you doing?” was all he had time to ask before a lethal force cascaded from his spine, making its way throughout his body until the sensation was too much to bear, causing him to black out.

To be continued

The End

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