Adam Monroe: Challenge #1

Being around for over 400 years means of course that I’ve been with women of all kinds, but never before have I had the chance to seduce a bisexual serial-killing brain eater with inflatable breasts. What am I supposed to wear? An elegant-yet-roguish suit, a casual-yet-charming tux, a slutty trannie dress?

I had heard many things about this Sylar, from “teenage girl” to “remorseless monster”, from the camera feeds in each candidate’s room that I routinely direct back to myself for personal use. From my experience with teenage girls, they’re not too hard to impress. I decided to woo her old-school style, in a sophisticated costume that would give me the chance to show off my theater skills. Perhaps later in the competition I’ll wear the matching ballerina outfit.

I added a Lion King Musical duffel bag to the ensemble, you know, for the remorseless monster in him, spritzed on the cologne, turned on the charm, grabbed my roses and left the room. I was ready.

When I got to the room where we were supposed to meet Sylar, our esteemed host hadn’t arrived yet. I relaxed against the fireplace, watching the flickering flames. A servant walked up with a platter of wine, which in a few minutes would be used to serve brain, courtesy of Draculina.

“Sir, would you like some wine?”

“No, but you shouldn’t smoke. Don’t you know it’s bad for you?”

I took the box of cigarettes from his front pocket, which may come in handy later, if I just so happen to make an ashtray out of someone’s drink. What can I say, I never forget a grudge.

“Sir, you’re crazy,” the man said, watching as I tried to light a cigarette in the fire.

“No I’m not,” I said, taking one of his wine glasses and smashing it on his head, then stabbing it into his gut.

As soon as I looked around, I realized my mistake. Just then Sylar walked in, so I jerked out the glass and stabbed myself, successfully covering my act. Now my tux had blood all over it, not to mention the wine glass I was holding in my stomach, but thankfully I didn’t seem too out of place.

When I looked back, the servant was gone. I didn’t have too much time to spare looking around for him, so I walked as smoothly as possible under the circumstances towards Sylar. He was standing there seductively in a low-cut gown.

“Hello sweetheart, you look as lovely as a rose,” was the first thing that came to mind, which, yes, old-fashioned, but I think I pulled it off…

“Take these roses as a token of my infatuation, knowing they will never be half as lovely as you.”

I closed his hands around the now slightly-tattered bouquet. Then I resumed the search for the injured servant.

He can’t have gone far…