Title: The Kingdom of Hell.

Author: TheRedPony

Rating: R, consensual sex and language.

Feedback: Please and thank you.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Matrix nor any thing else related the films. It is not my world, just my playground.

Story Notes: chapter 3a has been re written to be much darker.

when illusion spin her net
I'm never where I wanna be
and liberty she pirouette
when I think that I am free
watched by empty silhouettes
who close their eyes but still can see
no on taught them etiquette
I will show another me

"Hey" I said "You keep my things, they've come to take me home"

- Peter Gabriel

***

Agents Brown and Jones, were attempting to aim their weapons at both the Twins and the Merovingian, and the wavering effect only worked to highlight their confused state. Smith stood squarely, his side arm also leveled but not at the twins, at the Merovingian. Although he was a powerful program, he was now kneeling on the floor and covered in blood and nude from head to toe. Something was very wrong.. "What do you want?" Smith dark and dangerous voice showed his contempt for the lesser programs.

"We want to speak to you,…" One stated flatly.

"…to negotiate a deal," Two said finishing the others sentence.

Brown could be seen to nearly tick at the word deal. He spoke still staring down his gun. "What makes three exile programs, willingly walk into Agent headquarters, thinking they could negotiate terms."

Two lifted his hand from behind the Merovingian and aimed his M-16 rifle. Normally the agents would have easily stopped him but the shock that exile programs were standing in their broom closet had slowed their reactions. "Because our gun is bigger then yours, in this place you can die, and we have what you want. It sounds like a pretty good grounds for terms if you ask us."

"What makes you think we can die here?" Jones inquired.

One smirked "You are not currently safely in a human body. We don't think you can die here, we know you can."

Browns brow furrowed. "What do you hope to gain by these negations?" He was caustic. They had a point, and he did not want to die.

"Mind your place, both of you." The other two agents had over stepped their grounds by beginning interrogations right here in the hallway, especaly with a backdoor still open and the exile easily able to escape. "As I was saying, What do you want?"

"A place to stay."

"We can not give you that." Smith said flatly and stepped back. "I think you negotiations have already failed."

The first twin shook his head. "We know you keep humans in this building, so we know you have rooms. We need a place to stay for tonight, then we will be gone."

"This is not a motel." Brown snapped out under his breath. Smith glared at the lower ranking agent and silenced the program.

His gaze fell back on the twins. "You are well connected exile programs. Could you not find some one or some place to go to? Not even a hotel room? I believe that your master has enough connections to find a healer and a tailor. "

The first twin spoke again. "You miss understand our purpose for being here Sir. We don't hold our blades against you, but against him" He pointed the iced steal of the razor towards the naked man kneeling between them. "We only want a room and we offer the Merovingian as payment."

Smith holstered his desert eagle, leaving the other two agents' guns still trained on the exiles. He placed two fingers on his ear piece and listened. "The mainframe is intrigued, we will consider your offer pending questioning."

The twins nodded. "This is to be expected." They lifted the filthy man to his feat, and looked around the hallway. For beings with impossible amounts of money they certainly had a hideous building. It was white. Sharp, slick, surgical white, not the elegant lily white of the Twins, but the slightly halogen tinted tone of hospital white. The light steaming from the widows made the room garish. The floor was a dark grey that seemed to eat at the whiteness. It added its own marked hue and the whole room seemed dingy. The walls were completely free of even the slightest architectural interest, simple dark lines edged around the room, adding to its too long and too stretched appearance. A white box, it reminded the Twins of the white kill boxes used in slaughterhouses.

There were too many kinds of white in one place. They clashed and coursed at each other, snowy sharks circling ready for the blood bath. The soothing yet powerful white of the twins, the tainted white of the hall way, and the sickly talcum white of the bloody man. He was shivering, the red rust eating away at his skin, the blood rusting out the iron of his heart and the cold metal armour that had covered him well for so long. He had no pride and no dignity left. His arrogance eaten now, his own sickness of mind mixed with freezing fear. So much hatred, wasted in the white room. Death loomed here, its sickle ready to take any one. In this place death wore a black suit and sunglasses.

"If you would follow me." Smith's voice was level but wary. He was ready to kill the Twins should the need arise, he could feel it though, from the blood soaked form on the gray floor, it was broken already, it would take next to nothing to open his mind. Once they did that, every exile would be findable.

Brown shut the door to the broom closet, preventing other unwanted guests from entering the Agency. Not that any one ever had before. This was a fools work, the alabaster twins had finally lost it.

The three agents led the three exiles down the white hall. The walked towards the window and it was like the proverbial path through the narrowing tunnel. The bright light it was freedom, heaven. Unlike the other associates of the Merovingian, the twins loved the sun, the purity and grace of it. They loved the moon as well; they were twin's orbs in the sky, both pale and beautiful. Never could they understand how the others could dwell practically all the time in the darkness of night, and disdain the sun. How can one view the moon with out the sun, how can you appreciate day with out the night? The twins knew such things like no other programs could, you could never have one ideal and not its opposite. It is opposites and reflections that allow the mind to find purity. Would the rose be so beautiful if all things looked like it?

They reached the door; it was also white. The same white as all other things in this cold place, except for the agents, and the blood. Smith opened the door, a lab style table sat crosswise in the room, and two silver chairs equally sterile in appearance sat one on each side. Antiseptically government, yes that was the term for it, so clean and so perfect in its mirage of assimilation that it gave it's own falsity away. Perfection did not and could not exist, even in a world of code and laws.

The twins placed the Merovingian in one silver chair, and stood behind him. Smith took the other and his partners stood behind him.

The questions began.

***

"Why here of all places. To us? We both know that that by giving the Merovingian to us you place all of his contacts at risk. You will be the most hated exiles in all of the Matrix."

"We don't care about that. We care that the blood on this man, is not his; it is ours. Our blood spilled by his hand. Our pain, for his enjoyment. We decided once and for all that we had had enough. We will never again be fodder to his sick fantasies."

Smith arched his eyebrows curiously, and leaned back in his chair. "I take it he used you two sexually, and violently at that rate?" The agents showed no emotion, they were not programmed to feel compassion, although they did. They had grown it, evolved to feel such things. Evolution does not always mean progression.

The twins nodded silently, they were not identical, they were reflections.

The Merovingian was grinning in his chair, completely lost in his own safe world. The place inside where there was no white and no agents.

"How long would you stay?"

"We would stay until morning only, we must meat some one at noon. We no longer have a master, we have a mistress now."

The three agents tensed immediately, their color had faded. The Merovingian snorted having come out it seems to the real world once again. As real as the matrix could be any ways. "Oh are the big scary agents afraid of one bitchy little girl." Smith stood and rounded the table. The twins stepped back, the advancing agent was seeping death. Anger was one of the few emotions agents ever portrayed, but it was always held is check. This was not emotion this was instinct.

"What did you say." he hissed. Brown and Jones moved beside him, the twins forgotten for now. Three ear pieces were removed, they did not want the mainframe to see this.

"Well no wonder I would be too, if that bitch controlled me like that." He taunted. Smiths ice blue eyes became fire in a heartbeat. "What are you going to do? Kill me? Oui!?" He grinned even bigger. "How can I tell you were the other exiles are if I am dead." His head bobbed back and forth like some sort of sick French clown. "She is a pretty little jeune fille, No? So how many often do you branlage, you know polish the pistol thinking of her? Or do agents prefer the real thing? I hear she sleeps with four of your kind"

Smith twitched and tightened his fist around the mans neck. He slammed the Merovingian's head several times into the wall before letting him slide a few inches down. He was glaring down at him. "I will not kill you now, but I can make sure your life is nothing more then excruciatingly painful. I will enjoy making you take back every last one of those words."

He was ginning though fresh blood flowed form the back of his head, it was unnoticed, further proving that the man was most unstable. "You see," he wheezed. "See she controls you, such anger over a human does not befit agents."

Smith straitened up. "She is not human."

"I have heard other wise"

"You have heard lies," he hissed out.

The twins spoke up from the corner they had retreated too to get away form the agents rage. "You speak of Her Lady?"

Smith nodded eyes never leaving the Merovingian, who was loosing consciousness, from repeated blows. "The devil her self. You did not say you were going with her."

"We did not know it would mater."

"It makes all the difference. When, where and whom were you to meet?"

The second twin spoke. "We are not sure of whom, but we were told to meet them at noon, no place was given, so we assume the château."

The first shook his head. "No we know, his name is Mouse."

Smith looked over towards Brown and Jones. They had killed a crewman names Mouse from the rebel ship Anderson served on. "It could be a coincidence."

Brown frown. "Mostly likely sir, the idea that one of her best could be a human rebel, it is improbable."

"She had taken them before" Jones added.

"But never after they were dead." Brown and Jones often did this. It was not a heated argument, they simply weighed pros and cons back and forth to each other. The mechanical precision of it was eerie.

"Perhaps we should ask what they know." Smith inquired. The sets of eyes fell on the first twin. "How do you know his name?"

He drew a white card from inside his jacket. "We found it in his suit."

Smith took it in his hand, he red it over twice, then scowled.

"What is it?" Smith handed the white square to Brown, never meeting his gaze. "Mouse, Demon of Hell Ext. R118" He read out load, "He must be very well thought of, if he beds so near to her lady."

Smith nodded. "If she sent this Mouse, to retrieve them, then it is logical they are very important. It will be our codes if any thing happens to them." The other agents nodded. "We must arrange for them to go now."

"What is this about?" Two inquired. Smith lifted his hand and another silver chair appeared. He motioned for the twins to sit, then he him self sat on back on the other side of the table.

"It is about power." Smith face was deadly straight. "In the beginning in the first Matrix there was no need for agents. Yes, programs worked to control and keep humans in line, but agents like us did not exist. After the first Matrix failed, it was paramount that the second version would come online as fast as possible. The Architect deemed that he could not develop the adequate programming soon enough. The machines sought out one who could help. No other programs had the capability to create new life, but the Gen. Kingdom did. They were creatures that had fought at our side against the humans, but they were not machines. Most of them were genetically engineered beings created by the humans as weapons against us. To say the least they did not think well of the humans motives. The leader was a girl who was wise beyond her years, and older then she appeared, named L. She was the one who had opened the doors of their army to all those creatures not considered normal." He slurred the word out. "Every thing from mutants, to vampires, wizards to werewolves. If they had a reason to hate humans they were welcomed, with open arms."

"Why do you tell us this? Is this not classified?"

Smith nodded. "Yes but you will learn it all soon any ways. I offer you this knowledge as equality in our trade. We must show something given, we cannot put down that we protected you out of loyalty to a programmer the mainframe despises. This will be written in the books as a knowledge for knowledge trade."

The twins nodded. "Alright, please continue."

"When the war was over we offered them sanctuary with us, in the walls of 01. They chose however to have their own land, in the place were the human city Alexandria once stood. They named it the Gen. Kingdom, even though they had no king. It was Lady L whom our kind asked for help. She agreed and set to work with the Architect. They worked most efficiently. Her Lady wrote many programs, and when it came to decide how the humans would be controlled should the need arise. Her solution was the agents. Then however, when the matrix was nearing completion; the Architect proclaimed him self the creator of the Matrix and there for God. He no longer needed the help of Lady L whom had written the first one hundred of us. She was the one that wrote us to evolve and grow. However she also wrote use to be replaced ever five hundred years, to prevent us form evolving into something too human. The Architect deemed this unnecessary and so decided that no agent should ever been replaced. He created an auto program that would write agents according to how he felt they should be. When those of us written in her hand die, we go back to her. We go and become Demons of Hell."

One looked down as if to ponder some deep philosophical question. When he looked back up the confusion was clear in his eyes. "They live in the real world, but can they move in the Matrix? And you said it was the Gen. Kingdom why would dead agents become Demons in Hell?"

Jones stepped forward such things were his expertise. Smith nodded respectfully to the taller agent and let him speak. "If the Architect is God, it is easy to extend the biblical parallel. Her Lady was a most important aid to God, until she was tossed from heaven, the mainframe if you will. If she was cast down from heaven in such a manner, then she is the Devil, and her world is Hell. Thus the Gen. Kingdom changed its name to the Kingdom of Hell. Neo is the human Christ and that makes us programs like use either angles, or demons." His steady voice sounded like he was reading a tech manual. "And yes they move in the Matrix but not at all like the humans do. She and her people cannot only enter the Matrix but they can take things from it and move them into the real world. Any thing form food to complete programs."

"Whole programs? So there is agents in the real world too?" One looked at Two, their uncertainty echoing in each other's dark sunglasses. "Have you ever met her?"

Brown and Jones shook their heads, but Smith nodded. "I did once" He seemed pensive and uncertain; this was not information he wished to speak of in present company, but did any ways. "I was destroyed by Anderson. I was between alive and dead, and in that span I was taken to the real world. I sat in her office an talked to her until it was time for me to go back."

Brown was frowning. His face seemed to be perpetually in this state. "You never mentioned a meeting with Her Lady. Why did you keep that information from us?"

"It was not for you to know." Smith said plainly. His voice indicated that the subject should be dropped. The other agent glared but did so.

The twins watched this power play with interest. Had these two been human the many long years would had led to a great number of fights. They were not human, such an edge of struggle had been written into them. The knife blade used to make them stronger, competition to keep them perfect. Agents were terribly competitive by nature. Up until today, they had known two things about agents. Run if you see one, and run really fast if you see more. Now they knew things about agents, that many agents did not know. "We were told to wait at the château until noon. How will be meet them now?"

"It is a simple manner of calling them on the phone and informing them of the change."

"On the phone?" Two asked sceptically.

"So what is the number?" One added.

"666-Inferono" He stated face straight as stone. "That is their own area code so you have to dial 9 to get out of our phone directory, then one, then the number."

"Are your serious? Who came up with that any ways?"

Jones' ever straight face never hitched. "Her Lady, I would presume. She has an odd sense of humor. In fact there is both Agent Smith and an Agent Wesson, and all the great gates are named after the rivers of hell."

"What are the gates?"

"The doorways that convert the Matrix's code into a molecular synchronization that allows them to pass from the Matrix to the real world. It converted programming to TNA."

"TNA?"

"Trioxyribonuclaic Acid. It a modified version of human DNA. They way it coils is more compact and stable. It simply doesn't age. Its the same chemical compound that is used in all the Gen. Eng.'s."

"So their not just holograms they are physical and real?"

Jones nodded to the twins.

"If TNA is so much more stable then DNA why does not a single natural creature carry it?"

"Access information on the process known as meiosis, in which a cell divide into four, for the purpose of creating haploid cells for reproduction. TNA is not capable of performing the step known as "crossing over" and there for is useless for reproduction."

"So like programs in the Matrix, every one is sterile?"

Jones nodded his reply.

"Exhalant," One stated, "We hate children."

"So messy…" Two added

"… and noisy,"

"… and irritating."

They had many questions, Jones patients was programmed to be indefinite but Smith's was not.

"We have other work to attend," He snapped "So we should make the call immediately, any further questions you have will, I'm sure be answered when you arrive in Hell."

The twins nodded. "Let's do it."

************

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