Infected

It's just some fun. They took her out, they dragged her away from her computer, and her online games, and took her out. They told her she was getting pale, and creepy. They told she needed to live a little. They told her to wake up from her dream world. So they dragged her by her legs out into the world. They took her to a club, and now they're gone. Her friends dancing with guys they've just met, while she stands in the corner, watching them laugh.

She rather be at her computer, playing something. She rather be in her room away from this place, in her own little world.

Away from the music, and the people that are so happy. Away from the drinking, and loud noises. Away from the lights, and screams.

She sighs, and rests her head on the wall.

They seem so happy...

And no one notices the girl in the black clothing and black hair in the corner.

"They're coming for you."

She gasps.

They come without anyone's notice. Just as it should be. Never to be seen, never to be known. To come and leave without anyone's regard. Come, kill, and leave. Never to be known. They are without names, without faces, without individuality to everyone else. Just as it should be.

They do not speak, so no one hears them. It's just a simple gesture of the hand, and they separate into the crowds, still unnoticed, still unknown.

And as he stands right behind her, she didn't even notice him.

"What?" She gasps out.

"They're coming for you, but we got to you first."

"What are you talking about?"

"They're coming for you, and they'll be here any minute. They're going to take you away, and I am here to help."

She turns and sees him standing only inches from her.

"I don't understand." She whispers.

"You don't need to."

He's a man in a suit, with sunglasses over his eyes, and he's staring at her. He stands straight, just staring at her.

This man...staring down at her...something is wrong with him. She just doesn't know what. Something about his eyes, something about them staring at her. But she couldn't even see them.

He is an Agent. Agent Smith to be precise, not that it really matters. Why would it matter? They're all the same, serving the same purpose. To find and destroy. The Sentinels of the Matrix. That is what they were made to do. That is the only reason they are there. The only reason their code was made. The only reason...they're alive. The only reason he stands there now, staring at this girl, staring back at him.

"But..." She begins.

"They said you don't need to understand, they said you don't need to know." Agent Smith tells her.

His voice demanding, his voice controlling, his voice steady and dismissive.

The voice of an Agent.

He is an Agent, a man in a suit, which no one knows the name of. They call them Agents, he is never a him, it is always a them. Agents are just Agents. They kill, that's all they do. They have no names, they have no face, they have nothing of their own. They're just there to kill.

No one knows his name is Smith, and no one will for a very long time.

She doesn't even know this man. She doesn't even know what he stands for, what he wants from her. She doesn't know what she could give him. But it is a quick decision, to trust this man in a suit.

Because he's going to protect her.

"Ms. Laurence. Come with me." He holds out his hand.

She doesn't want to question this. She doesn't want to question how he knows her, or why he's here. She just knows something is wrong, and this man in a suit is the only one that could help her.

She stares at him one last time, and hesitates before reaching out to him.

She didn't even notice the gun that was pointed at the back of his head.

All she heard was screaming, as the Agent turned around, and punched someone in a trench coat. All she heard was the sound of the gun dropping to the ground, soon followed by the person in the trench coat.

"They're here." Agent Smith said.

She stares up at him, as he stands there, not moving. He stands above the person in the trench coat, as they grab onto his leg, but he still doesn't move. Then he pulls out his gun, and starts shooting across the room.

"Oh my God!" Ms. Laurence yells through the noise of the gun.

This is what they do. This all they do. Their weapons, their fists and guns. It is truly more than they need. This is what they do. They kill.

Agent Smith grabs her, and pushes her into the wall, where he steps in front of her. Then there are gunshots, aimed at them.

They kill, they protect.

He keeps her bound to the wall, letting the bullets fly past them, protecting her from harm, protecting her from death. Saving a life, rather than ending it.

And she stares at him, as he looks down at her, as if nothing is happening. Because truly, nothing is. This is how it is.

This is what they do.

"This way." He pushes her forward after the gunshots stop.

"What's going on!?" She yells.

"Get down."

He pushes her to the floor, where she watches as he starts firing his gun again across the club.

This is when the people begin to scream, and run. And soon it is seen that there are three people in trench coat firing their guns at him.

He returns to her on the floor.

"You need to stay calm. You need to keep running." He tells her.

And he pushes her, and makes her run.

They're not murderers. They're protectors. They kill those who will corrupt the system, and are a threat to everyone else. You don't know they're there, you don't know they're names. You wouldn't be able to spot them in a crowd. You don't know what they stand for, or why they're here. You don't even know if they're saving you.

But they are.

They're protecting you. Allowing you to live your life in this world, safely in this world they've made for you. They allow you to make choices here, and be happy. Live a life safe from the cold of the outside world.

They keep you here.

They aren't murderers, they're protectors. They aren't heartless monsters like they say, they're just doing their jobs. They're purpose...

And that is why Smith holds this woman in his arms, and kicks a door open for her, pushing her away from the madness, away from the stray bullets aimed for him, but bound to hit her.

That is why when she screams, he still makes her get up.

That is why, when everything goes to fast for her to realize, he keeps her running.

That is why he fires his gun, making sure to hit his target, and not all the other people he's protecting.

This is about the time she begins to cry, and he has to hold her, running down hallways and stairs. This is when she forgets how to run, and he has to almost carry her. This is when she forgets what's happening, and he has to guide her. This is when she grabs onto him, and cries to make him stop this all.

This is when she sees two other men in suits.

"Take her." Smith tells Jones.

She's shaking now, not wanting to let go of whoever she's holding onto.

Smith and the others stare at her, holding onto Smith, not wanting to let go. Jones grabs her.

"Don't worry Ms. Laurence, you are safe." Jones tells her.

"What the hell is going on!?" She screams.

"They came for you, and we saved you." Smith states simply.

"Who!?" She looks at him.

"They. Rebels, terrorists, hackers, viruses." Smith tells her.

"What? What do they want with me!?"

"It's the question." Smith says.

Then he turns around, and starts running back to through the hallways and stairs, reloading his gun. Ready to protect.

"Where's he going?" She looks at the other two, wiping her tears.

"He's going to go capture them." Brown says.

"He doesn't need our assistance." Jones says.

"He never does. That's just Smith."

The two almost smile.

"Smith...?" She whispers. "What's the question?"

"The question?" Brown asks.

"You mean you don't know?" Jones looks at Brown.

"This is highly unusual for them."

"Perhaps they are becoming more desperate."

That is when they smile, and leave Ms. Laurence oblivious. They stare at each other, and smile. Smile, because they are winning. They are protecting.

"The question is at this point irrelevant, Ms. Laurence." Jones says.

"The less you know, the safer you are." Brown finishes.

"Don't worry Ms. Laurence, they will not harm you any longer."

llllllllllllll

They are our protectors.

Keepers of the human race, protecting it from the horrible reality. The horrible truth. They created their own destruction.

Ms. Laurence walks the streets now, carrying her backpack full of books. College is tough, but at least she's in college, that's more than most people can say. She's going to live a happy life. She won't stay up all night watching for Sentinels. She won't be in the midst of war. She'll be safe, here, in a happy life.

All because they rescued her that night.

They monitored her for a while longer, maker sure she was truly safe. And when they realized the Rebels were monitoring her as well they took care of that. They abused the Rebels before they could give her any harm.

They're watching her.

Keeping her safe.

Far from the painful truth.

They're our protectors, and yet no one knows their names. And those who do, fear and despise them. They're only doing their jobs.

They're our protectors. The Gatekeepers of the Matrix. The ultimate protectors.

And they ask nothing in return. It's just their jobs. It's just their purpose. We cannot protect ourselves, so they do. And we don't even know their names.

There are few of us who have come to even see them. See them in their suits and sunglasses.

The few who know they're out there, who have been saved, rescued to live a life in the safety of green coding. The few who have actually spoken to them, exchanging looks and emotions they have a rarity to ever see, or even experience. The few who have been held in their arms, and protected from the bullets.

The people who have been saved by these men in suits, and still have yet to know their names. Well, all of their names.

"Smith...?" Ms. Laurence shakes her head.

She lowers her head, and stares at the side walk as she walks, imagining it all over again. The people who saved her...those men in suits...One of them is named Smith. What kind of name is that? She thinks to herself. She sighs.

Little does she know, that a few feet behind her is Smith, walking at her pace, keeping an eye on her. Making sure she is safe one last time before disconnecting themselves from her.

Jones and Brown walk at an equal pace on the other side of the street.

They're protecting her. They're protecting all of us. You don't know they're name. You don't know they're there. But they are, and they're protecting us from the cold.

They're called Agents.

And Ms. Laurence is just one in many that have come in contact with them. That have become infected by them.

Or perhaps the Agents have become infected by them. Such human contact all the time, it is bound to have an effect on them. Cause and effect after all.

Maybe all this running, allowed Smith to learn how to run. Maybe all these humans that work together, friends they call themselves. All the friends they saved, perhaps that taught Jones and Brown how to stay together.

Infected by the very things they kill and protect.

Ms. Laurence, the infected and the infection.

They are Agents. They are our protectors.

And the infection is spreading.

llllllllll

Next Chapter, if anyone wishes for me to continue: A Day At The Racetrack ( May be Changed )

The point of this is to show a different side of human encounters with Agents. The people that have been saved by them, the people the protect. The people that caused the infection of human emotion inside the Agents.

Some Chapters may be small, like small little encounters like standing in an elevator with the Agents. And there maybe a little Johnson and his crew in the house.

Please R/R!