Reaching New Heights in Destiny

Sylar's dupery has finally arrived at its conclusion. I discovered the horrific truth, the bitter verity, of Zane's persona. And yet the confrontation has resulted in quite the near-death experience; a hyperbole that is not.

I find myself looking down on the events as they unfold, wondering to myself if perhaps I have already vaporized into the great nothingness, the eternal void, of the afterlife. Could I continue to affect this world, this reality, as it unfurls before my very eyes? Or am I merely an external observer, a true scientist, one may say, unable to affect that which I observe. For my participation in reality would alter destiny itself, and so it seems I am doomed to watch from above.

Though let it not be said that I did not try to affect change. Upon noticing the arrival of one Peter Petrelli, I called out and gave a succinct warning. "Sylar" I muffled. And yet it was not enough. Perhaps I had chosen the wrong time to speak shortly on matters. Would it have been more advantageous to Peter had I engaged a more lengthy delivery, ripe with abundant verbosity and vibrant vocabulary? Perhaps then, he could have managed an escape.

Unfortunately, he was merely annoyed with my bleeding on his head. Rather than up and flee, like any good nobleman would do, he looked up and lambasted, "Hey, jerk, stop bleeding on my amazing hair!"

Then, with the speed of an uprooted tree in a hurricane, Sylar set forth action resulting in the incapacitation of Peter. As he held the male nurse to the wall, I could only postulate his next move would surely result in Peter's death. Though I was not afraid. It is not in my nature to fear. For I knew that any distraction Peter could cause may allow me to escape. And it has been my dream since arriving on this ceiling to up and flee.

While up I am, flee I cannot. And so in the meantime I will observe, and document that which I see. For above anything, I am a scientist. And as I scientist I must explore the ramifications of my current predicament. I must hypothesize on the outcome. And I of course must wonder, for it is wonder that brings about discovery. And if I am to discover a way down from here, I must wonder.

"NooOOoocoOOoO! Not my hair!" Peter shrieked. I could only watch as Sylar performed this unholy haircut. Speaking quite frankly, I would theorize that he will not have a future in cosmotology.

Then, like a crazed Bermuda jellyfish, Sylar shot sporks at me with his mind. I was most assuredly stuck to the ceiling for good. Some would estimate that to unspork myself would take weeks! Peter did not escape the cruel fate of spork trapping. He too was sporked to the wall.

Sylar uttered some strange words, mentioning a vendetta with Simon Cowell, and vowed to return.

"So, Peter, what would be your supposed duration until we escape or perish be?"

"I'm already dead! Dead like my girlfriend. Dead like my lock of hair lying on the ground staring at me, just like my girlfriend stared at me before she died, her body falling limp like my lock of hair falling on the floor, in the same manner my girlfriend fell on the floor."

"I must say, it is quite a revelation to discover that you had relations with a female. Though it is unfortunate about her demise. Let us hope we do not suffer the same fate."

"Dude, how can you talk about hope at a time like this? We're sporked, man, sporked! This is the end. This is the end for Peter, the annoying little brother. Happy, Nathan? Yeah, I bet you're pleased. This is what you wanted! This is what everybody wanted!"

"Well, I would beg to differ. While I had no standing on whether I would desire your death, 'the end of Peter' as you put it, I do however know that this particular predicament is not what I wanted. As enjoyable as it was at first, being up here can become rather nauseating. I would dare say I may virtually be on course toward vomiting."

"Puke. The truest of God's art! Oh, how I wish I could live your life, rich with chunks of hope and life. Yet I only throw up chunks of despair and death." He then started to sob, like an apologetic offspring of a female canine.

Destiny. It certainly seems to do the oddest things. Is this my destiny? How much more time have I in this world? One could only wonder.