Here I am with another oneshot! I have very little to say about it, other than it's literally freshly written, and I've eaten rather a lot of sugar, so, apologies for any lack of coherency or general confusion. Once again, I'm rather annoyed with the spacing, but I tried to change it and it looked even worse. So this is the way it shall stay. Now, let it begin!
No matter how many times Trinity tried to tell herself that none of this was truly real, that what she saw and felt around her was nothing but endless interwoven streams of coded lies, she couldn't shake off her growing exhaustion, or regulate her body's incessant gasping for the air that wasn't really air. She was reaching the limit of her endurance, and she knew it. The metallic taste of adrenaline coated the back of her throat. It wasn't the first time she'd been in such a jam, but the experience never got any less nerve-wracking. And the knowledge that she could die here, in spite of her quasi-superhuman abilities, didn't help much.
There's a phone at Wells and Lake. You can make it. Morpheus had told her that. And she'd believed him. But it was suddenly starting to look like a very long way. She'd stop to catch her breath, if she could. If there wasn't an Agent very close behind her. To stop would be suicide. To falter or pause, even for a moment, would mean certain death.
The sound of her footsteps against the metal roof was deafening. Another set followed them, half a beat behind. He was still there. Move, goddamn you! At this rate, she'd never even make the jump. There was a window. And that window was her only escape route. There was no room for error here at all. The devil truly was in the detail, as the old saying went. If she jumped just a fraction too early or too late, she'd miss. Her entire body went cold just considering that.
Trinity jumped effortlessly, as if ten feet were no distance at all, bracing herself for the moment of impact. Glass shattered against her, but she paid no attention to the pain of each tiny cut. Even the jarring tumble down a flight of concrete steps did nothing to slow her down. She knew she'd be sore as hell for a few days after she jacked out, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered now was getting out alive.
He was still behind her, relentless and maddeningly calm, despite the fact that he'd been running for as long as she had. Nerve endings screaming, she turned a corner, her pace as rapid as ever in spite of everything. The payphone was there, her only way out of this nightmare. Blood was trickling into one eye from a deep cut, but she didn't dare move a hand to wipe it away. She couldn't let anything throw her off now.
That was when it happened. A split-second stumble, breaking her fall with her hands; she was up again almost immediately. The headlights of a truck dazzled her eyes, but she ran blindly on. It began to move towards her, the intentions of the driver perfectly clear.
Her shaking hand closed around the phone, a feeling of crushing relief washing over her. She raised the phone, and looked up slightly. White light blinded her.
A split second. Is that really all it takes?
She barely had time to blink before something slammed into her with ungodly force and the world exploded into crystalline shards.
Somewhere a reality away, a century into the future, and several hundred feet underground, an inert body seized in agony, an unconscious, wrenching cry was ripped from a lifeless throat, and a monitor flatlined.
Well. Um, there you have it. The product of far, far too many sweets and some musings about timing. If anyone's concerned about the lack of warnings about the ending, I chose not to add it to the summary since it would just ruin the whole thing. Hope you enjoyed it, flames will be used to light torches for the raves in Zion.