Gabriel would get a lot of use out of his healing ability during the next few months. A day did not go by that Elle didn’t track him down to electrocute him. She might corner him in the hall and launch him into the nearest wall with the strength of her burst. Noah was of no help, politely standing aside while she tortured him for a few minutes each day. Gabriel suspected that Noah even alerted the woman to his whereabouts.
Even his cell was not a safe haven. Angela oddly had no qualms with giving Elle access to his private space. With increasing frequency, Elle would shove him into the wall or onto his cot so that she could shock in him from close range. She even began waking him up with an ominously sweet, “Morning, Sylar,” and a soft hand on his neck, followed by an electrical burst so strong that he saw spots for hours afterwards.
And when he was, in her words, “naughty” during a mission, she got Angela to give her permission to punish him. Honestly, he hadn’t fed on another evolved human in months, but his temper did get out of control every once in a while.
Nonetheless, Gabriel always smiled at her afterwards, often asking, “Feel better now?” or if he were in a particularly coy mood, “Was it good for you?” When the shocks started, she just scowled at his flippant remarks. But after a while smirks started to appear, and later sadistic grins, and finally what passed as friendly smiles.
He often asked, “Do you hate me?”
She always replied with a curt, “Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Your clothes smell like smoke. You should change.”
He always held onto her when she used physical contact to electrocute him. She didn’t appreciate the gesture, and showed her displeasure by biting him. Once, a bite became a kiss, and neither realized it until the ordeal was over and Gabriel noticed his tongue was numb.
She ordered him never to try it again. But it kept happening and she kept zapping his tongue. He never told her that he didn’t have control of his muscles during the electrocutions.
“You still hate me?” he asked.
“Maybe a little less than yesterday. But I’m starting to hate me now.”
“Why?”
“Because I should always hate you.”
One night, when Elle came to see him, he congratulated her with “Happy Three Month Anniversary.” It has gotten to point where Elle came merely for her own sadistic enjoyment, but his mouthing off got him electrocuted against every flat surface of his cell.
“Do you hate me?” he asked.
“I forgive you,” she replied, a little surprised by her own answer.
That was the day the kissing didn’t stop at kissing.
Given her life, Elle wasn’t surprised she ended up losing her virginity on a Spartan twin bed in a cement jail cell with surveillance cameras. She guessed it was better that her father wasn’t on the other end of the cameras, until she realized his mother was. That was the first time her sociopathic mind had allowed her to make a joke about her father’s death.
Afterwards, she lay naked on top of him, burning her name into his bare chest, complaining that the curvy “E” would disappear before she even got finished with the flowery “B”.
“Does that happen every time?” he questioned.
After taking a moment to realize what he was referring to, she answered, “Yeah, it’s gonna. Involuntary muscle spasms tend to set off other things.”
“Thanks for the advance warning,” he commented wryly.
“Hey, it’s never been an issue. I’m 25 and have like never had a date. The only reason I knew is ‘cause a girl’s gotta scratch her itches somehow.”
“It’s a good thing for you that I can heal. I’m not the best guy to be around when I’m in a bad mood.”
“It’s a good thing for you that you can heal. Else you’d be a crispy critter and this would be a lot creepier than it already is.”
: : :
RODONDO BEACH CAFÉ, 2012
“Could you not elaborate on these types of details?” Peter asked, squirming.
Rolling her eyes, Elle continued, “Fine, fine. Moral of the story is…”
: : :
Gabriel kissed her again. She gave him a small zap when he backed away.
Rubbing his lips, he had to ask, “Every time?”
“No,” she replied with mock guilt, “I can absolutely resist. It just hasn’t happened yet.”
A comfortable silence passed as Elle laid her head on his chest.
“Were you using telekinesis back there?”
“A little bit, yes.”“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” –Mother Teresa
No comments:
Post a Comment