The door behind them slammed shut and locked so loudly that Mohinder actually gave a start. He’d never come this close to being locked out before and for a moment, the only thought in his mind was of what might happen if he had not scooted through that threshold in time. He already felt as if he was freezing to death every time he stepped outside (it didn’t matter how long he had stayed in New York, the heat of India was in his bones). He imagined, morbidly, how his eyes would freeze over. His his fingers would blacken. Ice would form in his hair and over his lips—
And that very thing had nearly happened to this person. Mohinder rubbed life back into his frozen arms and crouched down to see what was wrong with the person that they had helped. Had an anomaly gotten to him or her? Mohinder had yet to encounter one, but the thought is still frightening that there could be one lurking…close…just waiting for the dawn when the doors would again unlock—
“Help me with this?” he asked his companion in that not-quite right British accent of his, velvety and lyrical. English was not Mohinder’s first language and he carried with him the accent of a man who grew up speaking Tamil and Kannada but was educated at Cambridge. He tugged a little hard on the blanket. “Are you-- Oh my God!”
There was no way that the person that they saved was ‘all right.’ Mouth a black hollow, open and gaping, flesh frozen and blotched and blighted-- Mohinder staggered back into the person he was travelling with, yelped, and pressed the back of one wrist to his lips in horror.
Mohinder Suresh || Heroes
And that very thing had nearly happened to this person. Mohinder rubbed life back into his frozen arms and crouched down to see what was wrong with the person that they had helped. Had an anomaly gotten to him or her? Mohinder had yet to encounter one, but the thought is still frightening that there could be one lurking…close…just waiting for the dawn when the doors would again unlock—
“Help me with this?” he asked his companion in that not-quite right British accent of his, velvety and lyrical. English was not Mohinder’s first language and he carried with him the accent of a man who grew up speaking Tamil and Kannada but was educated at Cambridge. He tugged a little hard on the blanket. “Are you-- Oh my God!”
There was no way that the person that they saved was ‘all right.’ Mouth a black hollow, open and gaping, flesh frozen and blotched and blighted-- Mohinder staggered back into the person he was travelling with, yelped, and pressed the back of one wrist to his lips in horror.