He shuffled over a step or two, allowing her both a clear view of their victim and his hands from where she was standing, then raised a finger, leveling it with the guy's hairline. He cast a glance back at her, fingers of the hand holding the other man in place flexing as he put extra pressure on his chest to stop him from struggling, and offered her a small, cruel smile.

"It's like using a knife or a scalpel." He turned back to the man, jabbing his finger at his hairline. A soft, pained noise followed as a bright red dot appeared on his skin. "You just -- I can feel it. The resistance from the skin and bone. How much pressure to use. I can just -- just tell."

He pressed a little harder, and the spot of blood became a jagged little mark on his forehead, the howl of telekinesis through the first little bit of his skull no where near loud enough to cover the yelp of agony that followed. Sylar smiled just a bit more, the sound something he found he missed, no matter how long or short a time it had been. "After that, it's easy. Just cut."

The guy had gotten the hint now and he hissed out something, begging for his life. Sylar took it in, humming pleasure, but he largely ignored him, finally and quickly sawing into his head, suddenly desperate to see what there was to see now that his work had begun.