A dozen men walked through a dark tunnel, it contained iron bars and several smaller tunnels which lead to wooden doors. It appeared to be a dungeon. Its tunnels seemed endless as they contained many corridors.
The channel that they walked through was the shape of an arc. Several short torches were attached to the dirty, black walls.
They dragged along 5 prisoners who were all wearing matching suits, sunglasses and earpieces that had a coiled wire. The captives looked almost identical.
Everything that they wore was black, except from their shirts which were a pure shade of white.
A silver, rectangular shaped tie-clip was attached to each one of the ties that Agent's owned. They all had a very professional look.
"Who do we have here." Laughed the Merovingian as he approached them, the trenchcoat that he wore reached all the way down to his knees.
He was wearing an illuminous red coloured shirt with a matching tie. His hair was black and very short and he spoke with a thick French accent.
"What do you want from us?" Asked Agent Jones as he fought against a guard. He was a fairy tall and broad man possibly over 50. The Agent's hair was a light shade of brown but his eyes were not visible since they were obscured by his black, square-shaped sunglasses.
"I needed to get rid of you, Agents. You would cause far too much trouble for my plan."
"Sir! Sir! One of them is missing." A young guards spoke up, he wore a silk jacket, black trousers and sunglasses.
Smith... Smith wasn't there, he must have gotten away before they entered the Chateau.
"Okay" Said the Merovingian, a little more impatiently now. "Take these men to their cell and go and find the sixth one. Au revoir" Then he left and went up a flight of stairs which lead back to his mansion.
As their leader left, the men escorted the Agents to their cell. It was a fairly big room and was extremely cold, dark and dusty. It was made from stone and there were numerous iron chains hanging from the ceiling and walls. Except from that, the cell was utterly empty.
They could almost taste the smoke that was contained within the room but it didn't bother them.
"You shall remain here until the Merovingian says otherwise." a warden told them, he chained the sentient programs to the wall. Once their dirty work was done the men left, leaving the beaten up Agents alone in their cell.
"How are we going to get out?" asked Brown.
"We will stay here and await Smith." Replied Johnson, he knew that Smith was the only one who could get them out.
Since this was a much earlier version of the Matrix, the Agents were no where near as powerful as they are in the future.
They were very different programs altogether.
Agents didn't require the ability to posses the bodies of blue pills nor have super human strength or speed. The Seraphims were the ones who enforced order in the Matrix, the Agents were just beta programs.
Agents were often jealous of the Seraphims as they had beautiful, white, feathered wings and could fly for long distance.
Like the humans, many programs also dreamed of being able to fly... Maybe in the future they would be able to achieve that goal.
They sat for a few moments in silence but it was broken by a big crash followed by someone running down the cellar stairs, the same ones that the Merovingian used to evacuate the dungeon.
Cautiously, all eyes turned towards the door.
Suddenly they head a man wailing, probably from pain. Then the wails turned to agonizing screams until there was a loud thump and the screaming stopped. All they heard after that were faint footsteps but soon they too faded away.