The Haitian

"The Haitian," The words slipped out of my mouth as wide-eyed in surprise, I watched him pause at the kitchen entrance.

He was a tall, slightly muscular, dark-skinned man with a shaved head, deep brown eyes, an oval masculine face, thin black eyebrows, dark thick lips, and a triangular soul patch.

Dressed in a yellowish-brown jacket with a blue shirt underneath, the top three buttons undone, a peculiar white 'S' pendant hanging from a black string around his neck, black trousers, and black shoes, his muscular arms rested casually in his pockets.

An aloof air surrounded him, and coupled with his emotionless face, it created an unsettling, enigmatic demeanor that left me silent.

He was the Haitian, one of the organization's most valued agents and a trump card. Apart from Sylar, I could confidently say he was the most dangerous person in the whole world.

After all, what the hell could you do to a guy who could simply render you as powerless as a baby just by being in close proximity also erase your memories?

His presence here meant the organization had finally noticed me, or perhaps, Mr. Bennet had.

...Sigh, this week just kept getting stressful by the day.

"Hmmm, the Madam was right," he commented coolly, picking his words carefully, his stoic eyes fixed on mine. "You're aware of things you shouldn't know. That's very dangerous."

He advanced a step toward me, and I instinctively pointed the butcher's knife at him. "Don't come any closer if you don't want to leave here pneumonic," I threatened viciously, my voice cold as I put on a facade of bravado, standing tall and straight.

This was bad, very bad. My powers weren't working, my body was less than average, and he had blocked my only way of escape. I was in fucked, and not in a good way.

He was stronger than me, especially in my injured condition, so there was little chance I could wrestle my way out of this. Thankfully, he didn't look like he was here to kill or harm me, that I could tell.

Besides, that wasn't his usual role. They had other agents like Noah for that.

He was probably here to capture me, send me to their secret facility, implant a tracking chip, and erase my memories of it all. Maybe even erase my memories of Sylar, based on what I could recall from the show.

But I'd be damned if I ever let that happen. He was stronger than me, that I couldn't deny, but this wouldn't be the first time I'd faced overwhelming odds.

If push came to shove, I'd have to abandon all pretenses and fight dirty. A small cut here, a nick there, a bite and scratch somewhere, and he'd be down just like the rest of them...

"Lower your weapon, Xander. I mean you no harm," He paused and said calmly, retracting his step. "My earlier orders were related to that, but not anymore. The ones I have now come from a higher authority, someone who means you no harm," He revealed causally.

An eyebrow rose in suspicion, and after observing his blank face and calm eyes for a while, I took a deep breath and lowered the large knife.

"What are you doing here then?" I questioned calmly, staring at him warily, my body still poised for action.

"I'm here to deliver a warning," He said, and my body involuntarily tensed. "Stay away from the Company's business and anything in between."

"...And assuming I don't?" I asked with a frown.

"You're intelligent, Xander. I don't think I need to elaborate," He remarked emotionlessly. "My task here is done. Starting today, you remember nothing about Sylar. Keep that in mind when you meet Claire's father next time." He turned to walk away.

"Wait, what about Claire?" I took a step toward him, "What directives do you have concerning her?" I inquired coldly, despite knowing the answer.

He halted and turned his head to look at me behind him, "I wouldn't worry about her. I operate under the authority of someone who has her best interests at heart. Even more so than her father and certainly more than you,"

He spoke calmly, his clear voice spiced with an almost untraceable amount of pride and confidence, and continued his advance.

Looking at him as he confidently walked toward the door, like he owned the place, my fingers trembled, and my face twitched incessantly as my bottled-up anger began to surge.

"And what about Sylar!? What are you guys going to do about him!? You know he'll eventually escape, right!?" I clenched my teeth and barked out in anger, my grip around the knife tightening until my whole arm began to ache.

"That's not for you to know," He replied calmly, not even pausing to look at me. "I'd advise you forget all about it and move on with your life. You're still young. You have time to live. Don't let it go to waste." He advised with a touch of coldness and walked through the door.

I clicked my teeth as the door closed and turned to place my hands on the smooth white kitchen counter, my arms trembling.

They want me to forget about him? Ha, they must've been out of their minds. Angela Petrelli must be the higher authority he was talking about, Claire's biological grandmother.

She was the one who changed Mr. Bennet's order to erase Claire's memory in the original story.

I had always suspected she knew of me from the moment I entered this world, so I wasn't surprised when he said she'd told him about me. It was to be expected from a precog as powerful and experienced as her.

But why did she extend Claire's special treatment to me as well? What role did I have to play in her predestined manipulative schemes that she didn't paint a target on me?

...It was best not to think about that right now. I had bigger concerns at the moment. Whatever plans Angela or the Company had, it didn't matter to me.

If they wanted to keep Sylar alive, then I guess I'd have to disappoint them. That just wasn't possible in my books. The guy had to go, and I'd be glad to make it happen.

Nonetheless, the Company was highly dangerous to face head-on, so if I wanted to do something about Sylar, especially now, I had to do it smartly.

The Company now knew of my existence, but they didn't know much about what I could do. They knew I was able to fight off Sylar but not how, and I doubted Sylar would tell them either. This was something I could use to my advantage.

Plus, given my current state, they'd never think about what I had planned in mind. By the time they would have noticed what had happened, it'd already be too late.

"I guess we'll be meeting sooner than I expected, Sylar..."

•••

A/N: Okay guys something has come to my attention and I think it's time I addressed it. Some you guys are complaining that the story is progressing slowly and that it seems I'm sticking to the plot.

The first is true, the latter is false. Yes, the story is progressing slowly, that's true. Some people don't mind, some do.

I can't satisfy everyone but I'll at least guarantee that from here, the speed is going to pick up very much. The only reason why so far it's been slow, is because I want to take my time and let Xander mesh well with everything. Also, to add a little more world building.

For those thinking I'm sticking to the shows plot, that's not what I'm going to do. I've done a lot of foreshadowing in the story that I thought you guys would know by now I'm going to derail a lot.

Like after this, the whole thing is going to change so much that it would be unrecognizable. So please bear with me and be patient for a little while.

Lastly, regarding Xanders power. I have read concerns that it's not improving even after 50 chapters so far.

That's entirely my fault because of how complex I've made it even though I've also added some foreshadowing to it.

But worry not, that'll change to in the chapters soon to come. Those in my patreon will find it out sooner than most, just saying🤧.

That's all for today. Thank you guys once again for your support and comments.

You guys might not know this but sometimes its your support that fuels we writers to keep pushing forwards so hopefully, you guys keep on the good work so that I can finish this whole fic.

Good night and see you tomorrow.🤝