Chapter Two: Into the Matrix
I stood, waiting for the elevator, looking nervously over my shoulder every so often. This hall was definitely one of the last places I wanted to be at the moment, but I figured it was better than the ridged outside air. At least in the apartment hall I wouldn't catch hypothermia. I un-cocked the gun I had pointed down the hall and shoved it into the belt of my shiny black pants. It would be safe there until or if I needed it. Leaning over, I punched the elevator button, aggravated. I was almost sure it had finally broken for the last time, when I heard the sickening beep that signaled the elevator's laggard approach to my level. Feeling suddenly light headed and weak, I decided to slip down onto the floor for a moment's rest. Then, suddenly realizing why I was feeling ill, I clamped a hand on my stomach.
"Perfect timing," I cursed the cramp I was developing. Then, instantly hushing my voice I heard a rustle from the back-most apartment. Glancing about in a paranoid manner, the relatively familiar feeling of being stalked, or watched, or hunted returned in a tidal wave motion. The rustling at the back of the complex grew louder by the second, as I decided it best to raise to my feet in a sluggish movement. I squinted my eyes to see down the dimly lit hall to Apartment H21.
"Strange?" I studied. "No one has lived there since Mr. Macy died." I couldn't help but feel frightened and apprehensive. With the odd events the evening had rolled out so far, I was in no position to rule out any possibilities of a terrorizing turn of events. Just as I was choosing whether I should go and investigate, the elevator binged behind me. I nearly jumped two feet off the ground while managing to awkwardly spin around. In the process I ran smack into the opening elevator door. Pressing my right hand firmly to the spot I have just slammed into the sharp metal corner, I lunged inside. There was no telling who or what was in the back apartment, but I had swiftly chosen that I was not going to stick around to find out. If it had anything to do with the contact I had received today I was sure it would be a bad visit. After stumbling in, trying to push the fear from my mind, I leaned my back against the mirrored walls of the elevator and slammed my hand toward the control panel. I was aiming for the 1st level, but with my eyes still blurry from my run-in with the door, I hit the basement level.
"Just my luck!" I muttered before turning to curse the blood now running from my head. With this rickety old elevator, I didn't dare hit more than one button at a time. A man had done that once and ended up being locked in the shaft for a whole day. Since time was exactly scheduled into my plans, I decided I would just catch the stairs up to the lobby level and run like hell when I got there. I knew the stairs up from the basement would lead me back into the complex, but I had no other options. The only other way out of the tiny basement was through a minute window about 9 feet off the ground. Since I was in no way prepared for such a task, I decided it best to take my chances in the lobby.
"Besides," I rationalized, fear still taking the upper level in my voice, "should anything go wrong I still have this," I patted the gun buried in the belt of my shiny ebony pants.
Upon arrival at the basement, I practically pried the doors open with my bare hands. It was something I had grown accustom to, so it was no major feat. Stepping out of the poorly lit elevator, I entered into an even poorer lit basement. Boxes of anonymous junk were scattered like fleas across every inch of maneuverable floorboard. Where there wasn't a box, there was a missing floorboard or some other novelty items strewn loosely about. A busted street light hummed on and off eerily, shedding periodic light in through the grotesquely blackened window. Standing immobile for a moment to allow my growing night-blind eyes to adjust, I made note of a large table in my path toward the stairs.
The floor creaked with a sense of warning and doom as I inched my way through the maze of storage piled at least 3 feet above my height. As I finally reached forward to grip the bedraggled metal railing adjoining the incurved stairs, I prayed with all the energy left in me that whoever had chosen to pursue me would not also choose to appear at the apex of my only way free.
Slowly and with great effort to cause the least sound possible in my situation, I ascended the stairs. About the mid-point of my climb, I paused. Suddenly remembering my appointment with Neo. Instantly rage filled my entire being. Whoever this stalker was had better not keep me from meeting Neo; he was my only way to find the answers I had been seeking for so many years. Being the pessimist that I am, I shook my head; wasn't going to happen, not to me, not anytime soon. Then, looking back to the door that led out to my temporary freedom, I pushed those thoughts aside. For the moment all that mattered, all that was important, was my survival. If I didn't survive, I would surely never meet Neo!
After what seemed an eternity, I finally reached the ominous door. Before stepping over yet another box to lug open the door, I checked my belt; still there. I decided it would be best to pull it out and cock it just in case. Just as I was in the process of doing so, another cramp shot up through my abdomen, the pain growing this time. I smothered an agonizing yelp and dropped myself to my knees. Then, regaining my sense of strength, I raised myself with a groan.
"These things always come at the wrong time," I seethed between my teeth. Not like it was going to help my mood along anyways. I shook myself reminding me of the situation I was finding myself in. Rechecking my cocked gun and covering my plan of attack and defer over in my mind, I slowly nudged the door. It gave nothing but a loud squeal. Then, throwing my entire weight against it, it finally slumped open. Once open, I raced through it and stopped behind a counter. Looking at all my exit routes, I soon saw a side door nearest me open. I dashed for it, but before I was little over halfway, the ill-sounding Bing of the elevator sounded through my entire body. This could only mean one thing, my attacker had caught wind of me high-tailing it out of the complex and soon followed suite; a little too soon for comfort on my behalf.
I whirled around, considering firing the assault weapon I was carrying, but knowing that would draw more attention that it would help, I shoved it back into my belt. Once outside and in the open I could fire as many shots as I desired and not a soul would stir - this being the extremely low, seedy portion of the city. As I swiftly flung myself through the thin doorway and out into the icy cold for the second time this evening or rather morning, I heard a voice - a man's voice - behind me. I supposed it was none other than the stark-raving lunatic who had decided it would be a nice walk in the park to stalk me down as prey.
"Shit!" the man shouted in a growling tone. I might not have known why this man was so hell-bent on capturing me, but he was and would obviously go to all lengths to accomplish his task. This for me meant the inevitable. I would eventually face him and…may the best man win, as I would most commonly put it.
I could tell as I continued in my sprint that he had continued to talk, in more soft tones. But, as I widened the distance between us, his voice turned to nothing but a mass of murmurs. I was still running when I realized I needed to stop. But, the adrenaline pumping through my every vein would not allow me to. To be honest, I was scared - scared to death. I had no point of reference, no direction, and no true plan but to run. As I did, my mind spun with thoughts - seeking an explanation. I had never done anything illegal, not that anyone knew I had done. Suddenly, as snow fell around me, I realized tears falling down my chin. I couldn't be completely sure if the tears had come from the sheer cold of the night or if they had come from the panic and dread that boiled deep inside me and was slowly ripping me to shreds. I pushed the thoughts away, ignoring the rapid falling tears. All I knew was I had to keep running. My limbs were beginning to give out and a cramp was now throbbing in the base of my abdomen. Trying to ignore the pain, I kept on running. I ran until I was gagging from exhaustion and the knotted cramp that had caused me to nearly double over.
But, I was not ready to give up yet. I wanted to run, but every fiber in me was screaming. I looked around, spooked out of my skin. There was nobody in the near vicinity of me but an old trash collector. Seeing him as no serious threat, I slowed to a speed-walk. Then, hitting a patch of ice on the street, my feet slipped from under me. I was suddenly hurled on my back with a cry of utter pain. In the process, my already cut head hit the ground with a thud. Blacking out for a moment, I lay in the ice senseless. When I finally came to, an evil looking man in a deep tan suit stood hovering over me. My eyes widened, stunned. Had I not just outrun this man? The man said nothing, only lowered a beautiful Double Clip Desert Eagle to my head. Though fearing death and complete agony, I could not help but marvel at the unique design of his DC Eagle. The almost hand-crafted precision of each cut in the shiny, obviously new barrel shimmered even in the dim moon's light. It had an almost unreal, freakishly reflective tip. Then, remembering I was about to die, I screamed for help. Losing all hope, I brace myself for the bullet to sink itself into my flesh with the sting of death. I wanted to cry out but seeing as no one was near me, it would be utterly useless; or so I thought.
Suddenly, as if from the very air itself, a man clad in a full black ensemble with an ebony trench coat swiveling cinematically around his legs appeared behind the evil looking man. I gaped at the sight of this other man, almost releasing a gasp. His onyx hair glinted in the slightest light, even the stars, while his pale face outlined every feature perfectly. He stood, glowering at the CIA Agent-type stalker. His eyes lowered into a defying glare and you could smell the hatred between the two. As the man in black stood, his entire stature and stance flowed with such a commanding sense of power that I could almost feel the vibes pouring off of him. I gazed at him in wonder, fear dripping from every pore in my body. If this man had come to harm me, he would succeed I took no doubt in that. But, then taking another look (thought my eyes technically never left him) I felt as though he did not want harm to come to me, but as often as my instincts are wrong I trusted them no more than the tabloids.
Then, being pulled from my trans, another slower moving man showed up standing behind the man who shone like a black star. This third man was evidently much taller than either the other two, but he appeared to linger slightly behind the man in the twirling trench coat. Then, the immensely amazing man strode toward us, directing the tall one to follow. This tall man was also clad in black, yet did not look quite as powerful as the other.
Then suddenly, the tall man came rushing toward me. I had not noticed but the Agent-type man had now turned to the other man, who had me still in a bit of a daze. The tall man, who seemed to glaring at no one in particular lunged at me and making a similar mistake as I had, slipped on the ice. This caused his to shake his head and regain his balance. Then, looking from the tall man, I saw the Agent-type glaring at the other mystery man in the trench coat. This man spoke to the gun-holder, who seemed to almost fear him.
"White!" He hollered from a few feet away.
The CIA/IRS guy suddenly moved away, masking a sense of dread I had seen in his stance. "Mr. Anderson," he drawled. The man who was opposing him seemed to cringe. "We finally meet."
The man called Anderson gave the agent a look of death. "It will be the last time, I promise you that."
The agent straightened the sleeves on his jacket. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Mr. Anderson!" he spit out slowly.
Mr. Anderson cocked his head to the side, "I don't!"
After watching the scene unravel for a moment while being pinned to the ground with a reoccurring cramp, I exhaled. Once the cramp was over, I leapt to my feet and planted a swift sidekick in the gut of the man who was only inches from me, still trying to stabilize on the icy street. He flew back in shock and then pushed himself to his feet with a nasty glare in my main direction. Then, pulling the gun from my belt and cocking it in one second flat, I pointed it at the man's head. I turned back for a moment to see what was unraveling between the agent-man and the awesome man in the trench coat. Seeing as things looked well handled, I motioned the tall man to stand with a tilt of the gun I held.
"Get up!" I demanded firmly. Realizing I was actually about to shoot him dead, he obeyed with a glare I couldn't quite read. Standing, towering over me, I felt at a loss of control. I ordered him to his knees and nodded approvingly when he obeyed with another odd glare. Then, looking behind me the man called out.
"Neo! We have a bit of a situation here!" he shouted to the man I had been mystified by. I paused and turned on my heels.
"Neo?" I breathed, now fully traumatized by the night's events. Suddenly, as if I had blinked, Neo was gone. I looked around madly to find where he disappeared to, but found nothing but the man called White shouting in pain. I turned away in horror, then shot a deathly evil enraged glare at the man who had now raised from him knees.
I reluctantly raised the gun back to his head.
"I don't care how much taller than me you are, if someone doesn't explain things soon someone is paying for this and it won't be me!" I screamed, my face meeting the height of his chest.
Then, almost simultaneous with a radical burst of white light, the man leapt at me in a swift almost fluid motion. He flew above my head and came down with a blow to my shoulder blade. I felt somewhat in pain but mostly in shock and horror. When I hit the icy street, the tale was not kind. The sharp ledge of the curb penetrated my left forearm, elbow to wrist. Sitting up with a suppressed scream, I pressed my right hand firmly against my now crimson forearm. In the process the man had also somehow managed to strip the gun from my hand and point it conveniently at my head. I glowered at the man.
"Does it really look like I'm going to attack you?" I shouted so loud I felt as though my vocal cords would burst. He lowered the gun and backed away. The man I believed was Neo appeared behind him.
"Where the Hell have you been?" I screamed in a fit of rage, grasping the gaping slice in my arm to keep it from bleeding excessively. Violently shoving the other man aside, Neo knelt down to me and placed a strong yet gentle hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry Dragon," he apologized sincerely. "Do you still want to come with me?"
I nodded sternly. I had risked my life to find out about the truth and in no way was I giving up now. "Come then, we have to hurry." Neo directed me toward a darker alley.
I nodded and allowed him to help me off the slick ground. Once found firmly on my feet, I took a good look at the man claimed as Neo. His ardently hazel eyes glinted with a sense of awesome power and gentle tenderness. His raven hair shimmered as we passed multiple lights while his sable trench coat swayed easily in the deep night's frozen air. The garments he wore under the amazing trench coat outlined his every muscle as he walked along beside me. I couldn't help but stare at him. He had such a sense of majesty and wonder that all I could feel at the moment was awe and respect. He tilted his head to look at me, and in that moment I knew this man had to be what I was searching for all those years; this man had the answers I needed; this man was the answer!
I stood, waiting for the elevator, looking nervously over my shoulder every so often. This hall was definitely one of the last places I wanted to be at the moment, but I figured it was better than the ridged outside air. At least in the apartment hall I wouldn't catch hypothermia. I un-cocked the gun I had pointed down the hall and shoved it into the belt of my shiny black pants. It would be safe there until or if I needed it. Leaning over, I punched the elevator button, aggravated. I was almost sure it had finally broken for the last time, when I heard the sickening beep that signaled the elevator's laggard approach to my level. Feeling suddenly light headed and weak, I decided to slip down onto the floor for a moment's rest. Then, suddenly realizing why I was feeling ill, I clamped a hand on my stomach.
"Perfect timing," I cursed the cramp I was developing. Then, instantly hushing my voice I heard a rustle from the back-most apartment. Glancing about in a paranoid manner, the relatively familiar feeling of being stalked, or watched, or hunted returned in a tidal wave motion. The rustling at the back of the complex grew louder by the second, as I decided it best to raise to my feet in a sluggish movement. I squinted my eyes to see down the dimly lit hall to Apartment H21.
"Strange?" I studied. "No one has lived there since Mr. Macy died." I couldn't help but feel frightened and apprehensive. With the odd events the evening had rolled out so far, I was in no position to rule out any possibilities of a terrorizing turn of events. Just as I was choosing whether I should go and investigate, the elevator binged behind me. I nearly jumped two feet off the ground while managing to awkwardly spin around. In the process I ran smack into the opening elevator door. Pressing my right hand firmly to the spot I have just slammed into the sharp metal corner, I lunged inside. There was no telling who or what was in the back apartment, but I had swiftly chosen that I was not going to stick around to find out. If it had anything to do with the contact I had received today I was sure it would be a bad visit. After stumbling in, trying to push the fear from my mind, I leaned my back against the mirrored walls of the elevator and slammed my hand toward the control panel. I was aiming for the 1st level, but with my eyes still blurry from my run-in with the door, I hit the basement level.
"Just my luck!" I muttered before turning to curse the blood now running from my head. With this rickety old elevator, I didn't dare hit more than one button at a time. A man had done that once and ended up being locked in the shaft for a whole day. Since time was exactly scheduled into my plans, I decided I would just catch the stairs up to the lobby level and run like hell when I got there. I knew the stairs up from the basement would lead me back into the complex, but I had no other options. The only other way out of the tiny basement was through a minute window about 9 feet off the ground. Since I was in no way prepared for such a task, I decided it best to take my chances in the lobby.
"Besides," I rationalized, fear still taking the upper level in my voice, "should anything go wrong I still have this," I patted the gun buried in the belt of my shiny ebony pants.
Upon arrival at the basement, I practically pried the doors open with my bare hands. It was something I had grown accustom to, so it was no major feat. Stepping out of the poorly lit elevator, I entered into an even poorer lit basement. Boxes of anonymous junk were scattered like fleas across every inch of maneuverable floorboard. Where there wasn't a box, there was a missing floorboard or some other novelty items strewn loosely about. A busted street light hummed on and off eerily, shedding periodic light in through the grotesquely blackened window. Standing immobile for a moment to allow my growing night-blind eyes to adjust, I made note of a large table in my path toward the stairs.
The floor creaked with a sense of warning and doom as I inched my way through the maze of storage piled at least 3 feet above my height. As I finally reached forward to grip the bedraggled metal railing adjoining the incurved stairs, I prayed with all the energy left in me that whoever had chosen to pursue me would not also choose to appear at the apex of my only way free.
Slowly and with great effort to cause the least sound possible in my situation, I ascended the stairs. About the mid-point of my climb, I paused. Suddenly remembering my appointment with Neo. Instantly rage filled my entire being. Whoever this stalker was had better not keep me from meeting Neo; he was my only way to find the answers I had been seeking for so many years. Being the pessimist that I am, I shook my head; wasn't going to happen, not to me, not anytime soon. Then, looking back to the door that led out to my temporary freedom, I pushed those thoughts aside. For the moment all that mattered, all that was important, was my survival. If I didn't survive, I would surely never meet Neo!
After what seemed an eternity, I finally reached the ominous door. Before stepping over yet another box to lug open the door, I checked my belt; still there. I decided it would be best to pull it out and cock it just in case. Just as I was in the process of doing so, another cramp shot up through my abdomen, the pain growing this time. I smothered an agonizing yelp and dropped myself to my knees. Then, regaining my sense of strength, I raised myself with a groan.
"These things always come at the wrong time," I seethed between my teeth. Not like it was going to help my mood along anyways. I shook myself reminding me of the situation I was finding myself in. Rechecking my cocked gun and covering my plan of attack and defer over in my mind, I slowly nudged the door. It gave nothing but a loud squeal. Then, throwing my entire weight against it, it finally slumped open. Once open, I raced through it and stopped behind a counter. Looking at all my exit routes, I soon saw a side door nearest me open. I dashed for it, but before I was little over halfway, the ill-sounding Bing of the elevator sounded through my entire body. This could only mean one thing, my attacker had caught wind of me high-tailing it out of the complex and soon followed suite; a little too soon for comfort on my behalf.
I whirled around, considering firing the assault weapon I was carrying, but knowing that would draw more attention that it would help, I shoved it back into my belt. Once outside and in the open I could fire as many shots as I desired and not a soul would stir - this being the extremely low, seedy portion of the city. As I swiftly flung myself through the thin doorway and out into the icy cold for the second time this evening or rather morning, I heard a voice - a man's voice - behind me. I supposed it was none other than the stark-raving lunatic who had decided it would be a nice walk in the park to stalk me down as prey.
"Shit!" the man shouted in a growling tone. I might not have known why this man was so hell-bent on capturing me, but he was and would obviously go to all lengths to accomplish his task. This for me meant the inevitable. I would eventually face him and…may the best man win, as I would most commonly put it.
I could tell as I continued in my sprint that he had continued to talk, in more soft tones. But, as I widened the distance between us, his voice turned to nothing but a mass of murmurs. I was still running when I realized I needed to stop. But, the adrenaline pumping through my every vein would not allow me to. To be honest, I was scared - scared to death. I had no point of reference, no direction, and no true plan but to run. As I did, my mind spun with thoughts - seeking an explanation. I had never done anything illegal, not that anyone knew I had done. Suddenly, as snow fell around me, I realized tears falling down my chin. I couldn't be completely sure if the tears had come from the sheer cold of the night or if they had come from the panic and dread that boiled deep inside me and was slowly ripping me to shreds. I pushed the thoughts away, ignoring the rapid falling tears. All I knew was I had to keep running. My limbs were beginning to give out and a cramp was now throbbing in the base of my abdomen. Trying to ignore the pain, I kept on running. I ran until I was gagging from exhaustion and the knotted cramp that had caused me to nearly double over.
But, I was not ready to give up yet. I wanted to run, but every fiber in me was screaming. I looked around, spooked out of my skin. There was nobody in the near vicinity of me but an old trash collector. Seeing him as no serious threat, I slowed to a speed-walk. Then, hitting a patch of ice on the street, my feet slipped from under me. I was suddenly hurled on my back with a cry of utter pain. In the process, my already cut head hit the ground with a thud. Blacking out for a moment, I lay in the ice senseless. When I finally came to, an evil looking man in a deep tan suit stood hovering over me. My eyes widened, stunned. Had I not just outrun this man? The man said nothing, only lowered a beautiful Double Clip Desert Eagle to my head. Though fearing death and complete agony, I could not help but marvel at the unique design of his DC Eagle. The almost hand-crafted precision of each cut in the shiny, obviously new barrel shimmered even in the dim moon's light. It had an almost unreal, freakishly reflective tip. Then, remembering I was about to die, I screamed for help. Losing all hope, I brace myself for the bullet to sink itself into my flesh with the sting of death. I wanted to cry out but seeing as no one was near me, it would be utterly useless; or so I thought.
Suddenly, as if from the very air itself, a man clad in a full black ensemble with an ebony trench coat swiveling cinematically around his legs appeared behind the evil looking man. I gaped at the sight of this other man, almost releasing a gasp. His onyx hair glinted in the slightest light, even the stars, while his pale face outlined every feature perfectly. He stood, glowering at the CIA Agent-type stalker. His eyes lowered into a defying glare and you could smell the hatred between the two. As the man in black stood, his entire stature and stance flowed with such a commanding sense of power that I could almost feel the vibes pouring off of him. I gazed at him in wonder, fear dripping from every pore in my body. If this man had come to harm me, he would succeed I took no doubt in that. But, then taking another look (thought my eyes technically never left him) I felt as though he did not want harm to come to me, but as often as my instincts are wrong I trusted them no more than the tabloids.
Then, being pulled from my trans, another slower moving man showed up standing behind the man who shone like a black star. This third man was evidently much taller than either the other two, but he appeared to linger slightly behind the man in the twirling trench coat. Then, the immensely amazing man strode toward us, directing the tall one to follow. This tall man was also clad in black, yet did not look quite as powerful as the other.
Then suddenly, the tall man came rushing toward me. I had not noticed but the Agent-type man had now turned to the other man, who had me still in a bit of a daze. The tall man, who seemed to glaring at no one in particular lunged at me and making a similar mistake as I had, slipped on the ice. This caused his to shake his head and regain his balance. Then, looking from the tall man, I saw the Agent-type glaring at the other mystery man in the trench coat. This man spoke to the gun-holder, who seemed to almost fear him.
"White!" He hollered from a few feet away.
The CIA/IRS guy suddenly moved away, masking a sense of dread I had seen in his stance. "Mr. Anderson," he drawled. The man who was opposing him seemed to cringe. "We finally meet."
The man called Anderson gave the agent a look of death. "It will be the last time, I promise you that."
The agent straightened the sleeves on his jacket. "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Mr. Anderson!" he spit out slowly.
Mr. Anderson cocked his head to the side, "I don't!"
After watching the scene unravel for a moment while being pinned to the ground with a reoccurring cramp, I exhaled. Once the cramp was over, I leapt to my feet and planted a swift sidekick in the gut of the man who was only inches from me, still trying to stabilize on the icy street. He flew back in shock and then pushed himself to his feet with a nasty glare in my main direction. Then, pulling the gun from my belt and cocking it in one second flat, I pointed it at the man's head. I turned back for a moment to see what was unraveling between the agent-man and the awesome man in the trench coat. Seeing as things looked well handled, I motioned the tall man to stand with a tilt of the gun I held.
"Get up!" I demanded firmly. Realizing I was actually about to shoot him dead, he obeyed with a glare I couldn't quite read. Standing, towering over me, I felt at a loss of control. I ordered him to his knees and nodded approvingly when he obeyed with another odd glare. Then, looking behind me the man called out.
"Neo! We have a bit of a situation here!" he shouted to the man I had been mystified by. I paused and turned on my heels.
"Neo?" I breathed, now fully traumatized by the night's events. Suddenly, as if I had blinked, Neo was gone. I looked around madly to find where he disappeared to, but found nothing but the man called White shouting in pain. I turned away in horror, then shot a deathly evil enraged glare at the man who had now raised from him knees.
I reluctantly raised the gun back to his head.
"I don't care how much taller than me you are, if someone doesn't explain things soon someone is paying for this and it won't be me!" I screamed, my face meeting the height of his chest.
Then, almost simultaneous with a radical burst of white light, the man leapt at me in a swift almost fluid motion. He flew above my head and came down with a blow to my shoulder blade. I felt somewhat in pain but mostly in shock and horror. When I hit the icy street, the tale was not kind. The sharp ledge of the curb penetrated my left forearm, elbow to wrist. Sitting up with a suppressed scream, I pressed my right hand firmly against my now crimson forearm. In the process the man had also somehow managed to strip the gun from my hand and point it conveniently at my head. I glowered at the man.
"Does it really look like I'm going to attack you?" I shouted so loud I felt as though my vocal cords would burst. He lowered the gun and backed away. The man I believed was Neo appeared behind him.
"Where the Hell have you been?" I screamed in a fit of rage, grasping the gaping slice in my arm to keep it from bleeding excessively. Violently shoving the other man aside, Neo knelt down to me and placed a strong yet gentle hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry Dragon," he apologized sincerely. "Do you still want to come with me?"
I nodded sternly. I had risked my life to find out about the truth and in no way was I giving up now. "Come then, we have to hurry." Neo directed me toward a darker alley.
I nodded and allowed him to help me off the slick ground. Once found firmly on my feet, I took a good look at the man claimed as Neo. His ardently hazel eyes glinted with a sense of awesome power and gentle tenderness. His raven hair shimmered as we passed multiple lights while his sable trench coat swayed easily in the deep night's frozen air. The garments he wore under the amazing trench coat outlined his every muscle as he walked along beside me. I couldn't help but stare at him. He had such a sense of majesty and wonder that all I could feel at the moment was awe and respect. He tilted his head to look at me, and in that moment I knew this man had to be what I was searching for all those years; this man had the answers I needed; this man was the answer!