Smith's Story
Disclaimer: I do not own The Matrix, nor do I own any of the copyright characters portrayed in this story. It's a sad one, so be careful.
Chapter 1: Something's wrong with Smith
The room was quiet. It had been that way for over an hour.
Agents Brown and Jones didn't walk in to ask what he was or wasn't doing, or tell him that something was amiss. Smith already had enough amiss things happening to him. He lay on a bunk, grasping his head and trembling.
For the last couple of days, Smith was unable to sleep, which is usually normal for an agent, but sleep as in . . . be isolated from the other agents.
To keep to himself, and just . . . relax. However, recently, strange images have been surfacing in his mind. Images that confuse him so much.
They start with a man in his office suit working at his desk. He's focused . . . very focused on his work . . . but he wishes he could be home with his family, spending time with the kids and his wife.
He smiles at the thought of it.
Then, everything goes dark, and when the image returns, there are now two men inside the office also. One is short, and the other is dark skinned and tall. The man gets up and tries to escape the suits, but they grab him and beat him.
Then, a picture appears in the darkness. It shows two children, a woman and the office man, smiling . . . the picture then rips in half, catches fire, and explodes into ashes.
Smith sat up, sweat pouring off him. His pulse had quickened immensely. It was strange . . . this feeling of relief that it was just a dream, and not reality.
What is reality?
Smith looked at the doorway to see Brown and Jones standing there. There was silence for a few moments.
"Are you alright, Smith?" Brown asked, concerned, even though he was an agent.
Smith looked disgusted at him, "That is irrelevant information." He couldn't believe how Brown was acting . . . how Brown AND Jones were acting.
"Well, we heard you screaming . . . we came to - -" Brown started.
"What are you!? My parents?! Get back to work, you fools!" Smith shouted.
Brown and Jones looked at each other, then left after closing the door.
Smith shook his head and got off the bunk. He walked towards the large window and touched the glass.
(Begin Image)
The office man managed to grab hold of the dark skinned man and throw him out the window, causing the glass to ripple . . . wait, glass doesn't ripple!
(End Image)
Smith immediately took his hand off the glass. He exhaled sadly. "What's going on? Where do these images come from!? I do not know this man. Well, it is irrelevant anyway-"
A sudden noise caught his attention. It sounded like the shattering of glass.
Smith ran out of his room, down the hall, and into the kitchen. He found Agent Brown and Agent Jones staring at the floor where a plate lay shattered. They were like two children . . . children . . .
(Begin Image)
"Nathan! Katrina!" yelled the man, running to clean up the broken glass.
The children looked up at him. "We're sorry, dad." One of them sighed.
"We wanted to help mom with the dishes before she got home . . ." said the other.
"Well, you two could have been badly hurt. Now, if you need anything, just ask daddy, ok? Alright, Nathan? Katrina?"
(End Image)
"What?" Brown broke the silence.
Smith snapped back. He'd been staring at the plate in silence . . . or, at least he'd HOPED he'd been staring at it in silence.
"Hmm?" Smith replied.
"You . . . just called us Nathan and Katrina, sir . . ." Brown informed.
"Well, said the names out loud is more like it." Jones corrected.
Smith felt a heat travel through his body. This must be what embarrassment felt like. He stared wide-eyed at his two colleagues, then ran out of the kitchen.
"Sir?" Brown called.
A/N: Well! Not bad for a first chapter, eh? So, what do you think is up with Smith? And where are all these weird images coming from? R & R please! And no flames, please.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Matrix, nor do I own any of the copyright characters portrayed in this story. It's a sad one, so be careful.
Chapter 1: Something's wrong with Smith
The room was quiet. It had been that way for over an hour.
Agents Brown and Jones didn't walk in to ask what he was or wasn't doing, or tell him that something was amiss. Smith already had enough amiss things happening to him. He lay on a bunk, grasping his head and trembling.
For the last couple of days, Smith was unable to sleep, which is usually normal for an agent, but sleep as in . . . be isolated from the other agents.
To keep to himself, and just . . . relax. However, recently, strange images have been surfacing in his mind. Images that confuse him so much.
They start with a man in his office suit working at his desk. He's focused . . . very focused on his work . . . but he wishes he could be home with his family, spending time with the kids and his wife.
He smiles at the thought of it.
Then, everything goes dark, and when the image returns, there are now two men inside the office also. One is short, and the other is dark skinned and tall. The man gets up and tries to escape the suits, but they grab him and beat him.
Then, a picture appears in the darkness. It shows two children, a woman and the office man, smiling . . . the picture then rips in half, catches fire, and explodes into ashes.
Smith sat up, sweat pouring off him. His pulse had quickened immensely. It was strange . . . this feeling of relief that it was just a dream, and not reality.
What is reality?
Smith looked at the doorway to see Brown and Jones standing there. There was silence for a few moments.
"Are you alright, Smith?" Brown asked, concerned, even though he was an agent.
Smith looked disgusted at him, "That is irrelevant information." He couldn't believe how Brown was acting . . . how Brown AND Jones were acting.
"Well, we heard you screaming . . . we came to - -" Brown started.
"What are you!? My parents?! Get back to work, you fools!" Smith shouted.
Brown and Jones looked at each other, then left after closing the door.
Smith shook his head and got off the bunk. He walked towards the large window and touched the glass.
(Begin Image)
The office man managed to grab hold of the dark skinned man and throw him out the window, causing the glass to ripple . . . wait, glass doesn't ripple!
(End Image)
Smith immediately took his hand off the glass. He exhaled sadly. "What's going on? Where do these images come from!? I do not know this man. Well, it is irrelevant anyway-"
A sudden noise caught his attention. It sounded like the shattering of glass.
Smith ran out of his room, down the hall, and into the kitchen. He found Agent Brown and Agent Jones staring at the floor where a plate lay shattered. They were like two children . . . children . . .
(Begin Image)
"Nathan! Katrina!" yelled the man, running to clean up the broken glass.
The children looked up at him. "We're sorry, dad." One of them sighed.
"We wanted to help mom with the dishes before she got home . . ." said the other.
"Well, you two could have been badly hurt. Now, if you need anything, just ask daddy, ok? Alright, Nathan? Katrina?"
(End Image)
"What?" Brown broke the silence.
Smith snapped back. He'd been staring at the plate in silence . . . or, at least he'd HOPED he'd been staring at it in silence.
"Hmm?" Smith replied.
"You . . . just called us Nathan and Katrina, sir . . ." Brown informed.
"Well, said the names out loud is more like it." Jones corrected.
Smith felt a heat travel through his body. This must be what embarrassment felt like. He stared wide-eyed at his two colleagues, then ran out of the kitchen.
"Sir?" Brown called.
A/N: Well! Not bad for a first chapter, eh? So, what do you think is up with Smith? And where are all these weird images coming from? R & R please! And no flames, please.
