REALITY
___________
By Richard Paul
Assorted Disclaimer Hoo-Hah: I don't own the Matrix nor any characters, props, costumes nor any of Cypher's beard, never have done, and never will. The Wachowski (I think that's how you spell it), brothers do. So on and so forth.
P.S: IF I've ripped off someone else's idea I am truly sorry. I don't think I have though.
P.P.S: WWW.Wishvale.org and "!" magazine don't exist.
This is my first fan fiction, please read it and then submit your praise/critism/insults/suggestions/misc. (Delete as applicable)
Chapter 1: The dream
"Shit, it's cold."
Silas Cavallo walked down the darkened street with his hands hidden underneath his upper arms. Turning his head back, he saw that many of the other faces that had emerged from the cinema had disappeared; then an icy breeze brought his attention back to himself.
Soon enough he reached his car and hurriedly climbed inside. The car provided cover from the wind, but it was still cold. As the engine started, vague images about the film he had just seen entered his mind. First there were the sentinels that poured by the thousands through the hole in Zion's ceiling, then there was Persephone and the fact that she only had one line. Trinity with numerous rods piercing her torso, and Neo, laid out on the floor of the zero-one like a museum piece.
Silas always tried to block out such images whilst he was driving. The last time he allowed himself to drift off into fantasy whilst he was driving almost resulted in him driving into a ditch. He had limited success this time however. Images of APU's and the Hammer kept enticing him to drift into memory, usually when traffic lights were nearby. After almost 45 minutes driving, he found himself back at his house.
Wearily, he pushed open his living room door and stumbled to the nearest chair. It was still cold. Casting a gaze to the clock on his VCR, Silas saw that it was only 8:15PM.
After drinking a disturbingly hot cup of coffee, Silas watched as his computer came to life once more with a series of whirs and the occasional click.
The internet was the same as it always was. He flicked through a series of web sites which had at one time amused, now only served to provide a series second long diversions. After this was complete, he began typing random words into a search engine in the hopes of finding something interesting.
Half an hour passed, Silas was flicking down a list of things to do in case of a forest fire which he had found at WWW.Wishvale.org. In the background, music from the radio was drowned out against the sudden rain that had begun to strike the window next to him. He was about to reach for the remote to increase the volume when he heard the phone next to his computer ring.
'Weird', thought Silas as he checked to see if the Internet had spontaneously kicked him offline as it had been known to do. The phone should ring whilst he was online, and, as the icon in the bottom right hand corner of the desktop showed, he was undoubtedly online.
"Problem with the phone lines or something." He muttered to himself as he reached for the phone.
"Hello."
"Get away from the window, now!" The voice on the other end of the line was male, Silas wasn't sure but it sounded vaguely familiar, however, his mind soon focused on the man's hastily uttered command.
"What the Hell are you talking…?"
"We don't have for time; just get away from the window!"
The man's last word was drowned out by the sound of a motorbike, which was steadily becoming louder. Turning his head, Silas saw something he knew should be impossible. A figure in a crash helmet was seconds away from smashing a motorcycle straight through his second story window.
He stood motionless for a second, too stunned to respond to this insane situation. When he had sufficiently recovered from the shock however, he threw himself away from the window, landing on the floor with a loud thud.
Barely a second after, the motorbike came crashing through the window, the vehicle's former occupant, who Silas could identify was female, pushed herself free of the bike and bounced off of the wall in front of her as she struck it.
The bike crashed through the floor and creating a deafening noise as it did so. Silas barely noticed it however; he was transfixed on the figure that had invaded his study.
The woman threw her crash helmet to floor and charged out of the door. Silas remained motionless; thoughts were trying to reveal themselves within his head, but were drowned out by fear, confusion and shock.
Trinity?
A second figure smashed through what remained of the window. On seeing it, Silas' heart stopped.
The person in front of him was tall, male and had short brown hair. The man wore sunglasses, and a suit which was all black, with the exception of the white shirt which revealed the presence of a black tie. There was a gun in the man's right hand.
For the few seconds, the man simply stared at him with a contemptuous glare, occasionally turning his head to examine his gun. Thoughts were beginning to appear and disappear in Silas' head. The words helped distract him from the fear, barely, nevertheless, Silas found himself clinging to whatever comforts he could find.
This isn't real… This can't be real… This doesn't happen… Who was that …? This can't…? An Agent? No, it can't be, it can't, The Matrix isn't real! It's a trilogy!
Awake.
Silas shot out of his living room chair as if he'd just been pushed out of it. He was barely able to stop himself from falling on the floor.
He stood still, staring at his surroundings and searching for wreckage, when he found none, more thoughts entered his head.
A dream, no, it was too real to be a dream, but, that, that couldn't have happened, could it?
Silas hurriedly walked out of the living room and up the stairs to the study. The window was undamaged, there were no large holes in the floor, and computer was switched off. He looked at the clock, 7:12AM.
'It had to have been a dream, there's no other explanation, you fell asleep on the chair Silas, and then you dreamt.'
This was the most rational explanation, but at the same time, it was almost impossible to believe. In all his years, Silas had never once had a dream so lifelike. Usually his dreams consisted of crude figures standing before a vague background talking about work. What he had apparently just wakened from was as close to lifelike as he had ever experienced. He felt, tasted, heard, smelt, and saw everything around him last night with almost perfect clarity.
The more Silas thought about it, the more he decided it had to be a dream. It was the only explanation which made any sense, and he vaguely remembered someone from his past talking about how dreams could seem very real.
In any case, as he cast another glance towards the clock, he realised that he had more important things to worry about. He couldn't afford to be late for work again, and time was proceeding at an awkwardly fast pace.
Half an hour later, Silas was shaved, showered, breakfasted, dressed and ready to wander out of his house for another day of toiling for the furtherance of '!' magazine. He sighed at the depressing thought, he hated his work, the only reason he stuck with it was because he needed the money.
Seconds before Silas stepped through the door, the phone rang again, and he felt a momentary flash of panic and then scolded himself for it.
"It was just a dream." He told himself once more as he picked up the phone.
"Hello." He said.
"Hello Silas."
His heart skipped a beat; it was the same voice, the same one that had warned him to get away from the window in his dream. There was no mistaking it. The voice still sounded familiar, but Silas couldn't put his finger on where he had heard it before.
"Who is this?" He asked, forcing his voice to sound more calm then he felt.
"Again I'm afraid there's no time. This line is being traced. Listen to me very carefully. It wasn't a dream, what you experienced last night was as real as what you're experiencing now. You know the truth now. You're mind is probably trying to deny it, but sooner or later, the truth will overrun your mind, and you will be unable to live in this place."
"What the-" Silas coughed and fell silent, he was having just as much trouble accepting this lunatic situation as he did his 'dream' last night, if that was what it was.
'What the Hell is going on?' He thought to himself.
"I am out of time, go about your daily business Silas, and try to stay calm, one of us will contact you soon. Be careful though. The Agents will undoubtedly be watching you."
With that, the line went dead. For a few seconds, Silas stood motionless, his mind trying to make sense of yet another impossible situation.
It took him ten minutes to put down the phone and get to the door which was only five feet away.
To Be Conrinued,or will it? Should i continue or shouldn't I?
___________
By Richard Paul
Assorted Disclaimer Hoo-Hah: I don't own the Matrix nor any characters, props, costumes nor any of Cypher's beard, never have done, and never will. The Wachowski (I think that's how you spell it), brothers do. So on and so forth.
P.S: IF I've ripped off someone else's idea I am truly sorry. I don't think I have though.
P.P.S: WWW.Wishvale.org and "!" magazine don't exist.
This is my first fan fiction, please read it and then submit your praise/critism/insults/suggestions/misc. (Delete as applicable)
Chapter 1: The dream
"Shit, it's cold."
Silas Cavallo walked down the darkened street with his hands hidden underneath his upper arms. Turning his head back, he saw that many of the other faces that had emerged from the cinema had disappeared; then an icy breeze brought his attention back to himself.
Soon enough he reached his car and hurriedly climbed inside. The car provided cover from the wind, but it was still cold. As the engine started, vague images about the film he had just seen entered his mind. First there were the sentinels that poured by the thousands through the hole in Zion's ceiling, then there was Persephone and the fact that she only had one line. Trinity with numerous rods piercing her torso, and Neo, laid out on the floor of the zero-one like a museum piece.
Silas always tried to block out such images whilst he was driving. The last time he allowed himself to drift off into fantasy whilst he was driving almost resulted in him driving into a ditch. He had limited success this time however. Images of APU's and the Hammer kept enticing him to drift into memory, usually when traffic lights were nearby. After almost 45 minutes driving, he found himself back at his house.
Wearily, he pushed open his living room door and stumbled to the nearest chair. It was still cold. Casting a gaze to the clock on his VCR, Silas saw that it was only 8:15PM.
After drinking a disturbingly hot cup of coffee, Silas watched as his computer came to life once more with a series of whirs and the occasional click.
The internet was the same as it always was. He flicked through a series of web sites which had at one time amused, now only served to provide a series second long diversions. After this was complete, he began typing random words into a search engine in the hopes of finding something interesting.
Half an hour passed, Silas was flicking down a list of things to do in case of a forest fire which he had found at WWW.Wishvale.org. In the background, music from the radio was drowned out against the sudden rain that had begun to strike the window next to him. He was about to reach for the remote to increase the volume when he heard the phone next to his computer ring.
'Weird', thought Silas as he checked to see if the Internet had spontaneously kicked him offline as it had been known to do. The phone should ring whilst he was online, and, as the icon in the bottom right hand corner of the desktop showed, he was undoubtedly online.
"Problem with the phone lines or something." He muttered to himself as he reached for the phone.
"Hello."
"Get away from the window, now!" The voice on the other end of the line was male, Silas wasn't sure but it sounded vaguely familiar, however, his mind soon focused on the man's hastily uttered command.
"What the Hell are you talking…?"
"We don't have for time; just get away from the window!"
The man's last word was drowned out by the sound of a motorbike, which was steadily becoming louder. Turning his head, Silas saw something he knew should be impossible. A figure in a crash helmet was seconds away from smashing a motorcycle straight through his second story window.
He stood motionless for a second, too stunned to respond to this insane situation. When he had sufficiently recovered from the shock however, he threw himself away from the window, landing on the floor with a loud thud.
Barely a second after, the motorbike came crashing through the window, the vehicle's former occupant, who Silas could identify was female, pushed herself free of the bike and bounced off of the wall in front of her as she struck it.
The bike crashed through the floor and creating a deafening noise as it did so. Silas barely noticed it however; he was transfixed on the figure that had invaded his study.
The woman threw her crash helmet to floor and charged out of the door. Silas remained motionless; thoughts were trying to reveal themselves within his head, but were drowned out by fear, confusion and shock.
Trinity?
A second figure smashed through what remained of the window. On seeing it, Silas' heart stopped.
The person in front of him was tall, male and had short brown hair. The man wore sunglasses, and a suit which was all black, with the exception of the white shirt which revealed the presence of a black tie. There was a gun in the man's right hand.
For the few seconds, the man simply stared at him with a contemptuous glare, occasionally turning his head to examine his gun. Thoughts were beginning to appear and disappear in Silas' head. The words helped distract him from the fear, barely, nevertheless, Silas found himself clinging to whatever comforts he could find.
This isn't real… This can't be real… This doesn't happen… Who was that …? This can't…? An Agent? No, it can't be, it can't, The Matrix isn't real! It's a trilogy!
Awake.
Silas shot out of his living room chair as if he'd just been pushed out of it. He was barely able to stop himself from falling on the floor.
He stood still, staring at his surroundings and searching for wreckage, when he found none, more thoughts entered his head.
A dream, no, it was too real to be a dream, but, that, that couldn't have happened, could it?
Silas hurriedly walked out of the living room and up the stairs to the study. The window was undamaged, there were no large holes in the floor, and computer was switched off. He looked at the clock, 7:12AM.
'It had to have been a dream, there's no other explanation, you fell asleep on the chair Silas, and then you dreamt.'
This was the most rational explanation, but at the same time, it was almost impossible to believe. In all his years, Silas had never once had a dream so lifelike. Usually his dreams consisted of crude figures standing before a vague background talking about work. What he had apparently just wakened from was as close to lifelike as he had ever experienced. He felt, tasted, heard, smelt, and saw everything around him last night with almost perfect clarity.
The more Silas thought about it, the more he decided it had to be a dream. It was the only explanation which made any sense, and he vaguely remembered someone from his past talking about how dreams could seem very real.
In any case, as he cast another glance towards the clock, he realised that he had more important things to worry about. He couldn't afford to be late for work again, and time was proceeding at an awkwardly fast pace.
Half an hour later, Silas was shaved, showered, breakfasted, dressed and ready to wander out of his house for another day of toiling for the furtherance of '!' magazine. He sighed at the depressing thought, he hated his work, the only reason he stuck with it was because he needed the money.
Seconds before Silas stepped through the door, the phone rang again, and he felt a momentary flash of panic and then scolded himself for it.
"It was just a dream." He told himself once more as he picked up the phone.
"Hello." He said.
"Hello Silas."
His heart skipped a beat; it was the same voice, the same one that had warned him to get away from the window in his dream. There was no mistaking it. The voice still sounded familiar, but Silas couldn't put his finger on where he had heard it before.
"Who is this?" He asked, forcing his voice to sound more calm then he felt.
"Again I'm afraid there's no time. This line is being traced. Listen to me very carefully. It wasn't a dream, what you experienced last night was as real as what you're experiencing now. You know the truth now. You're mind is probably trying to deny it, but sooner or later, the truth will overrun your mind, and you will be unable to live in this place."
"What the-" Silas coughed and fell silent, he was having just as much trouble accepting this lunatic situation as he did his 'dream' last night, if that was what it was.
'What the Hell is going on?' He thought to himself.
"I am out of time, go about your daily business Silas, and try to stay calm, one of us will contact you soon. Be careful though. The Agents will undoubtedly be watching you."
With that, the line went dead. For a few seconds, Silas stood motionless, his mind trying to make sense of yet another impossible situation.
It took him ten minutes to put down the phone and get to the door which was only five feet away.
To Be Conrinued,or will it? Should i continue or shouldn't I?