This is my first fanfiction. I started by writing a character story for a
Matrix role-playing game my friend was running. The game flopped, but the
character was so interesting that I had to write it out. I've written a
little bit of fiction before, but never for anyone else to see, so there
will be revisions as I realize what I wrote sounds worse than I intended it
too. :')
Some would say that this sounds a lot like the Matrix itself, but it seems
to me that anyone who finds out about the matrix and is eventually removed
would follow some basic events. For example, there is first contact,
weird stuff, what is the matrix, oh that's the matrix, and finally running
from agents and removal. Its what you put in to flesh out your character
and make the story unique and not another NEO clone that is important!
Thanks Draconious
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Awakening - Chapter One - Dreamscape
Lightning flashes blind as thunder crashes and the wind howls. Looking around, nothing is visible but the bare skeletons of destroyed cities and debris. No sign of humanity or habitation exist. Looking up, a flying machine swoops past, as a mechanical thing on eight insect-like legs climbs over the debris towards you, reaching with grasping claws...
"Ahhh!" James shouted as he awoke from yet another nightmare. This was the third night in a row that he had had the same dream, and it always ended the same. Shaking the sweat from his shaggy brown hair, he climbed from his bed and stumbled into the shower. Face down with the hot water pouring on the back of his head, he began to feel a little better.
"Too late to get anymore sleep," he said to himself. "Early breakfast it is then." Dressing in a pair of gray dress pants and a white button down shirt, he grabbed a bagel and headed to the door. Opening it, he was greeted by a flash of thunder and sheets of rain.
"Of course.." Shaking his head he grabbed his overcoat and an umbrella before heading to his garage. The drive into New York was a long one from the suburbs, but if he left early he might get to the office early without hitting that much traffic. Driving across the bridge to Stanton Island, he was shaken by the look of the skyscrapers against the gray, cloudy sky. *Just like the dream.* he thought.
Shaking it off, he drove into the parking garage and began his three-block hike to his building. Even after leaving early, the traffic was already a nightmare. He even managed to get sloshed by a passing truck, drenching what wasn't protected by his coat. Sighing, he entered the revolving doors and went to the elevators.
Ding! The elevator doors opened and he stepped on, next to a man in a black suit. Not unusual in a business environment, but something was strange about this guy. He had black pants, a black coat, a black tie, and black sunglasses on, regardless of the dark and dismal day outside. In his right ear he had a wired earpiece, like the FBI always used on the television. James studiously ignored the man and pushed the button for the 15th floor.
*The elevator moves very slow when your in it with someone with whom you don't wish to speak*, James observed. Trying not to look at the man, he studied his own reflection in the mirrored doors. Expensive dress shoes, probably ruined by the rain. Gray dress pants, wet to the shin. White dress shirt with gray vest, and a gray blazer, crumpled by his drenched overcoat. His long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, his one rebellion against the stereotypical image of the accountant.
His friends in high school would never have guessed he would have chosen this profession. He had chaffed in college about how boring the MBA program was. However, when he was offered the large salary and a luxury car, it was very hard to pass up. His natural skill with numbers made Accounting easy to him, allowing him to do calculations that the other accountants needed their computers to do for them. Some would say that he was a prodigy, a natural lighting calculator. Once on a dare, he gave Pi to the 12 digit, in his head. That was just showing off, though.
Looking back up into the elevator doors, he was surprised to see that the man in the black suit was studying him, as well. It was right when James was going to say something that the elevator stopped on the 10th floor and the strange man got off. Shaking his head, the doors closed and the elevator continued to its destination.
The office was empty when he arrived almost 2 hours early. He had some things to finish up, stuff he should have finished the last few days. It was almost 8 o'clock when others started to arrive. By then, James' desk was cleared off and squared away. Goofing off on his computer until his appointment arrived at 10, he did some internet browsing, not looking for anything in particular.
Finding an interesting website on "JFK" assassination theories, he read about how 2 guys and 1 alien were responsible for the supposedly 1 man job. Shaking his head, James turned to the next article and read.
Matrix.. The word struck a cord within him. By accident he had stumbled upon a web page written by some guy who was ranting about conspiracies. He was saying something along the lines that everything was one giant conspiracy, that nothing was truly real. James was just getting interested in what this guy had to say when his 10 o'clock arrived and he quickly closed his browser down.
The gentleman's name was Robert Wilkinson. He was running a private business and a non profit organization, and his private accountant had just had a breakdown. Working with him for 3 hours, James secured his business and entered his information into the company's database. Finishing up, he decided it was time for lunch.
Heading down to the company cafeteria, James saw her. Every office has one. You know, the one worker of the whole department who just doesn't seem to fit in? Of all the stuffy, stodgy accountants (James reluctantly included himself into this category) she was the one exception to the rule. Standing five feet 3 inches, Shelley Thompson was in a word stunning. Coming from different sides of the building, James had probably only said 3 words to her. (15th floor, please.) Long wavy red hair, creamy skin and jade green eyes. She was a sight to behold.
James was staring rather unabashedly at her when she turned and spoke to him.
"The Matrix has you." With those words, James' world came crashing down around him. Visions of his nightmares, the destroyed city, the debris, and the attacking crab-like robot returned to him in a flash.
"Huh?" he said, confused and disoriented.
"I asked if you were James Mason." She was looking at him like he was crazy. *I know that she didn't ask that. I know it!* She was still looking at him like he was really crazy. *Okay, maybe she did ask me that.*
"Oh, yeah. I'm James Mason." *Smooth, real Smooth.*
"Hi, I'm Shelley Thompson. I was told that I needed to find you. My computer's on the fritz and Technical said that it would be tomorrow before they could even be on the floor. I have some reports I must get done so I was hoping you could help me..." She blushed as she rambled on. James thought that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"Uh, yeah. I don't have any appointments this afternoon, so I could be by right after lunch. I could meet you, or we could eat together and I could come with you to your office afterwards." Now was his turn to blush.
"I'd like that." With that, she extended her arm and he looped his through it and they walked to the line to select their lunch.
The lunch had gone great, and they were talking like old friends. He still couldn't believe he was talking to the hottest girl in the office like she was . a person., which he was coming to find out that she was. She had been trying to make friends with the mostly older male staff, yet most of them had either found her unapproachable, or waayyy too approachable. After their hour lunch, they were already fast friends, laughing at inadequate company policy and stuffy bosses.
"Well," Shelley said, "Let's get to my office so you can take a look at my computer and see if you can fix it. Maybe if I can finish up the reports early. we could go out for dinner?" James fought to keep his jaw from dropping. Was he being asked out by a girl he could only dream about?
"Okay, we could do that. lets go." With that they headed to the elevators.
TBC.
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Awakening - Chapter One - Dreamscape
Lightning flashes blind as thunder crashes and the wind howls. Looking around, nothing is visible but the bare skeletons of destroyed cities and debris. No sign of humanity or habitation exist. Looking up, a flying machine swoops past, as a mechanical thing on eight insect-like legs climbs over the debris towards you, reaching with grasping claws...
"Ahhh!" James shouted as he awoke from yet another nightmare. This was the third night in a row that he had had the same dream, and it always ended the same. Shaking the sweat from his shaggy brown hair, he climbed from his bed and stumbled into the shower. Face down with the hot water pouring on the back of his head, he began to feel a little better.
"Too late to get anymore sleep," he said to himself. "Early breakfast it is then." Dressing in a pair of gray dress pants and a white button down shirt, he grabbed a bagel and headed to the door. Opening it, he was greeted by a flash of thunder and sheets of rain.
"Of course.." Shaking his head he grabbed his overcoat and an umbrella before heading to his garage. The drive into New York was a long one from the suburbs, but if he left early he might get to the office early without hitting that much traffic. Driving across the bridge to Stanton Island, he was shaken by the look of the skyscrapers against the gray, cloudy sky. *Just like the dream.* he thought.
Shaking it off, he drove into the parking garage and began his three-block hike to his building. Even after leaving early, the traffic was already a nightmare. He even managed to get sloshed by a passing truck, drenching what wasn't protected by his coat. Sighing, he entered the revolving doors and went to the elevators.
Ding! The elevator doors opened and he stepped on, next to a man in a black suit. Not unusual in a business environment, but something was strange about this guy. He had black pants, a black coat, a black tie, and black sunglasses on, regardless of the dark and dismal day outside. In his right ear he had a wired earpiece, like the FBI always used on the television. James studiously ignored the man and pushed the button for the 15th floor.
*The elevator moves very slow when your in it with someone with whom you don't wish to speak*, James observed. Trying not to look at the man, he studied his own reflection in the mirrored doors. Expensive dress shoes, probably ruined by the rain. Gray dress pants, wet to the shin. White dress shirt with gray vest, and a gray blazer, crumpled by his drenched overcoat. His long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, his one rebellion against the stereotypical image of the accountant.
His friends in high school would never have guessed he would have chosen this profession. He had chaffed in college about how boring the MBA program was. However, when he was offered the large salary and a luxury car, it was very hard to pass up. His natural skill with numbers made Accounting easy to him, allowing him to do calculations that the other accountants needed their computers to do for them. Some would say that he was a prodigy, a natural lighting calculator. Once on a dare, he gave Pi to the 12 digit, in his head. That was just showing off, though.
Looking back up into the elevator doors, he was surprised to see that the man in the black suit was studying him, as well. It was right when James was going to say something that the elevator stopped on the 10th floor and the strange man got off. Shaking his head, the doors closed and the elevator continued to its destination.
The office was empty when he arrived almost 2 hours early. He had some things to finish up, stuff he should have finished the last few days. It was almost 8 o'clock when others started to arrive. By then, James' desk was cleared off and squared away. Goofing off on his computer until his appointment arrived at 10, he did some internet browsing, not looking for anything in particular.
Finding an interesting website on "JFK" assassination theories, he read about how 2 guys and 1 alien were responsible for the supposedly 1 man job. Shaking his head, James turned to the next article and read.
Matrix.. The word struck a cord within him. By accident he had stumbled upon a web page written by some guy who was ranting about conspiracies. He was saying something along the lines that everything was one giant conspiracy, that nothing was truly real. James was just getting interested in what this guy had to say when his 10 o'clock arrived and he quickly closed his browser down.
The gentleman's name was Robert Wilkinson. He was running a private business and a non profit organization, and his private accountant had just had a breakdown. Working with him for 3 hours, James secured his business and entered his information into the company's database. Finishing up, he decided it was time for lunch.
Heading down to the company cafeteria, James saw her. Every office has one. You know, the one worker of the whole department who just doesn't seem to fit in? Of all the stuffy, stodgy accountants (James reluctantly included himself into this category) she was the one exception to the rule. Standing five feet 3 inches, Shelley Thompson was in a word stunning. Coming from different sides of the building, James had probably only said 3 words to her. (15th floor, please.) Long wavy red hair, creamy skin and jade green eyes. She was a sight to behold.
James was staring rather unabashedly at her when she turned and spoke to him.
"The Matrix has you." With those words, James' world came crashing down around him. Visions of his nightmares, the destroyed city, the debris, and the attacking crab-like robot returned to him in a flash.
"Huh?" he said, confused and disoriented.
"I asked if you were James Mason." She was looking at him like he was crazy. *I know that she didn't ask that. I know it!* She was still looking at him like he was really crazy. *Okay, maybe she did ask me that.*
"Oh, yeah. I'm James Mason." *Smooth, real Smooth.*
"Hi, I'm Shelley Thompson. I was told that I needed to find you. My computer's on the fritz and Technical said that it would be tomorrow before they could even be on the floor. I have some reports I must get done so I was hoping you could help me..." She blushed as she rambled on. James thought that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"Uh, yeah. I don't have any appointments this afternoon, so I could be by right after lunch. I could meet you, or we could eat together and I could come with you to your office afterwards." Now was his turn to blush.
"I'd like that." With that, she extended her arm and he looped his through it and they walked to the line to select their lunch.
The lunch had gone great, and they were talking like old friends. He still couldn't believe he was talking to the hottest girl in the office like she was . a person., which he was coming to find out that she was. She had been trying to make friends with the mostly older male staff, yet most of them had either found her unapproachable, or waayyy too approachable. After their hour lunch, they were already fast friends, laughing at inadequate company policy and stuffy bosses.
"Well," Shelley said, "Let's get to my office so you can take a look at my computer and see if you can fix it. Maybe if I can finish up the reports early. we could go out for dinner?" James fought to keep his jaw from dropping. Was he being asked out by a girl he could only dream about?
"Okay, we could do that. lets go." With that they headed to the elevators.
TBC.