What Are You Doing?
I quote Agent Brown from the original Matrix:
"What are you doing?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She ran down the streets, tears in her eyes, and humans watching her run by. She jumped through the crowded streets, knocking a couple people down as she went. The sounds of the city were not heard by Angel, only her tears. She ran as far away as she could from Neo, not wanting to get any closer, not wanting to her the truth, taking the blue pill before the red. Then she stopped, running into an alley, where no eyes could see her. She almost fell as she sat down behind some garbage. She just couldn't stop crying. . .
Her father loved her.
But her father lied.
She just wanted it all to stop.
In the damp, dark alley, Angel cried, and there was no one coming to comfort her. She was only a child. She was the daughter of Smith, but he would not come for her. She just wanted it to all stop. Why couldn't she just go away from her father? Why did he have to lie?
What if he wasn't lying? What if it was all lies that Neo told her? But she knew that was only denying the truth.
Her father was Smith. He had protected her, and held her, ever since her first moments of existence, she fell and he caught her. But she looked back to the days gone by. She banged her head against the wall, and peered up into the sky. Then she pictured her father. His suit black and perfect, his face unemotional, and his stance unmoving. She remembered the hatred in his blue eyes. . .
She shook her head.
"No!"
She punched a whole into the concrete of the ground.
She could picture the anger, and fire in his eyes, never able to see beauty. . . She remembered the evil in his voice, able to send chills down her spine with out her even realizing. She remembered the lack of emotion in his voice and movements. There was nothing there. . .
Angel stared at her hands, tears rolling down her blue eyes, falling to her hand. She rubbed her eyes, and buried her face in her legs. She remembered the warmth he gave her, when he held her, the sense of protection, the sound of his voice, empty of hatred. There was more to her father. Wasn't there? Or was it an act? Could he act that well?
Angel didn't know. And she didn't want to know. She just didn't even want to move. . . She just wanted her father.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Everything that has a beginning has an end. I see the end coming. I see the darkness spreading. I see death. And you are all that stands in his way."
"Smith." Neo said.
"Very soon he is going to have the power to this world. But I believe he won't stop there, he can't. You are all that stands in his way."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She had to get up now, but she wouldn't. She tried to stop crying, but she couldn't. She had to though. So she slowly got up, getting to her feet. She wiped her tears. And then she ran to her father.
Angel ran between the humans, passed her home, searching for the Oracle. And then she stopped, and stared at the sight before her. There were so many. She hadn't realized her father had made so much. They were increasing. Like making more every second. . . There copies stood all around a block. Some entering a building, some straying off, and some just standing there. Angel turned to see a woman walking towards them. The woman stopped to stare at the sight. She dropped her purse, and had a fearful look on her face. That's when four copies started to walk towards her. One put his hand up, to signal it was okay, but then another lunged his whole arm into her side, and the copying process began. Then stood another Smith. Angel stared as copies went in all directions, they were going to go make more. . .
He was killing people. . .
Angel stared off in horror at the copies. Then she shook her head, and closed her eyes. Just go to Daddy, she told herself. The copies stared at her. All of them, as if there was something wrong with her. Everywhere, their eyes stared. She could feel their eyes, all looking at her. What was wrong? All they did was stare, and show an emotionless, heartless face. Was that her father? Then she stopped. She looked up. Angel didn't know if she was ready to face her father. Or to even get through the copies. What if he had lied? What if. . . ? Angel was just a child. She couldn't take this. But then again, she was the child of Agent Smith. She closed her eyes, and made a fist. She was the child of Smith. She was. Then Angel ran through the copies, up the stairs. She shoved them out of the way. They were everywhere. . . She closed her eyes, not wanting to see them, not wanting their gaze. But then one struck her down. A copy knocked her to the floor, showing her only hatred. Angel sat in the corner of the stairs, copies continued to go up. What if her father was like this? Heartless, cold. What if he didn't care? The copies were a part of Smith. . .
Angel got up again. Going with them, slowly walking up the stairs. She wouldn't fight them, she couldn't. She stared at the floor, as they walked. Then Angel looked at one, in his hand was a gun. Why was there a need for guns? The copy turned to see her stare, and she diverted her eyes to the floor again. The stairs seemed to drag on, like they'd never stop. There was always another step. All she wanted was her father, all she wanted was his grasp, his protection. That's all. That's all. She was tired. Tired from fight, from running, from crying. She just wanted Smith.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"And you must be the last Exile." Smith said, bending down to the child.
"The Oracle told me about you." The child said.
" And what did she say about me?"
"She said you were a bad man."
"Oh, I'm not so bad, once you get to know me."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then the stairs ended. The copies filled the hallways, searching every door, every room. Angel stood there for a moment, surrounded by her father's copies. She looked around, she couldn't find him. Where was her father? Angel got a little worried. She just wanted him. She took one step, her mouth open, her eyes searching. There were so many of them. . . So many copies. She didn't know there was this many, they're weren't in fact. There weren't this many when she was created. . . All she knew is that they were everywhere. And then Smith stepped out of a door.
"Daddy!" Angel yelled with a little desperation.
She ran to her father, grabbing him. Smith was surprised by her. He stepped back a little, not wanting the others to see. But then he saw how Angel held him. Something was wrong, she wouldn't let go.
"Daddy. . ."
"Angel, I have to go do something." He said.
There was that voice. That voice full of love, no hatred, no anger. That voice that only wanted the best for Angel. That voice that would protect her. The warm voice. Angel heard it. How can something with such love in the voice create such monsters? Angel wondered to herself, thinking of the copies. How could he lie to her, with that voice? How could he?
"Angel. . ." Smith started.
She didn't want to let go. . . She didn't want to let her father leave her, she didn't want him to leave her. But she let go. . . She nodded to him, and he went into another room. She and some copies followed him.
They entered an apartment that seemed dead. There was furniture, and things, but the color was pale. Like everything was going to die. Angel shuddered. Then they entered a room, the kitchen. And there sat an old woman. The Oracle. A copy stopped Angel at the door, and she stopped watching from the shadows.
Angel watched as her father became something she didn't know. The love in his face was now full of anger. Hatred burned in his eyes, anger in his voice, anger in his motions. Angel didn't like him like this. She didn't want him to be like this. Why did he have to hate? Why couldn't he just love her?
"The great and powerful Oracle. We meet at last." Smith said.
His voice sent shivers down Angel's spine.
"I suppose you've been expecting me. Right? The all-knowing Oracle is never surprised. How can she be? She knows everything. If that's true, why is she here? If she knew I was coming, why didn't leave?"
The old woman only stared at Smith. Smith stared back at her. Then he picked up the cookie jar and threw it into the wall, breaking it. Angel fell back, frightened of it. Why was he like this?
"Maybe you knew I was going to do that, maybe you didn't. If you did that means you baked those cookies, and set that plate right there, deliberately, purposefully. Which means you're sitting there also deliberately, purposefully." Smith said.
"What did you do with Sati?" The Oracle asked.
"Cookies need love, like everything does." A copy said.
The Smiths laughed. Did he kill this Sati? Angel asked herself.
"You are a bastard." The Oracle said.
"You would know, mom."
"Do what you're here to do."
"Yes, ma'am."
Smith reached over to her, and stuck two fingers into The Oracle's wrist. Darkness spreaded over the Oracle. And all Angel could do was watch. But something happened. The code of the Matrix erupted. Wind came from the Oracle. A gust flew through the room, the power of the Oracle being contained by a mere copy. Angel's hair flew into her eyes, as fear got to her. Smith lunged his fingers out of the new copy, and slowly took a step back. Then Angel noticed something. What was wrong? Why did her father look different? Why did he look like a copy!? She turned to the new copy, the one made from the Oracle. And she froze. The copy was her father, she knew, she could tell. The copy began to back up. And Smith got up out of the chair. He needed to get his sunglasses off, see the Matrix with his new eyes, the eyes of the Oracle. He needed to. Now. He took them off, and stared into nothing for a moment, using the eyes of the Oracle. Angel saw something she never saw before. There was fear in the copies' eyes. What was wrong? Smith had it. He had her. This new power. He had it! Neo stood no chance now. And then Smith laughed, the power was too much.
Angel heard her father's laugh. It sent chills down her neck. There was evil in that laugh. She got up, concern in her eyes.
"Daddy?" She asked to the copy of the Oracle.
The copy smiled a smile to her. Then he looked down at himself, holding his hands out, and straightened his suit.
"I guess so." He said, smiling.
Angel turned to who use to be her father, he looked like a copy.
"How?" She asked.
"I transferred my data through the code. This body will be most powerful, I need it for myself." He said.
Then Smith turned to the other room. He walked by her and the copies, out into the balcony. The wind slightly blew his hair, as he squinted from the sun to the world. He looked in all directions as Angel joined him.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Can't you feel it? Can't you feel it through your veins? It going through your blood?" He asked.
"What?"
"The power."
Angel didn't understand. She looked down at her hand, and stretched it. Then she felt something. She made a fist, and punched through the air, quicker than ever before. Then she started punching. She was doing faster than ever before. But it seemed so easy.
"I'm stronger." She said.
Smith smiled.
"Indeed. The Oracle is a very powerful program. Since she is now me, we acquire her power. We are more powerful than ever before, we are too much for Mr. Anderson." He said.
Angel perked up when she heard Neo's name. She had to tell him.
"In fact. . ." Smith started, as he stared off into the sky. "I think I can. . ."
Smith jumped into the air, but didn't come back down. He floated in the air, just above the balcony. He held out his hand and stared at himself, and laughed. Angel looked up in awe. She jumped, but didn't do the same thing.
"I am the Oracle, I have more power than the others." Smith said.
He laughed and reached out his hand to Angel. She took it, and jumped. Smith caught her. How can the person who caught her lie? Then he put her in his arms. And Smith felt his daughter's warmth. He enjoyed her warmth, he loved it. He would miss it. He knew it. He had to kill her. But not now. Now he just needed one last moment, one last moment with her. He would give her happiness, one last time. He embraced her, as the flew higher into the sky.
Angel looked up at her father, his eyes as blue as the sky. How can the person that made her fly do this to her?
They were now higher than any of the buildings of the city. Smith took a moment to allow his daughter to see it. His arm held up her head, the other holding her legs up. There they floated, above everything else.
How can he do this? How can he give her this, but lie?
Then Smith held her tighter, and they flew towards the sun. The wind blowing in their eyes, and their hair. The warmth of the sun getting closer to her.
How can he give her such warmth and be this monster?
Angel smiled at this gift from her father.
She wondered how the person who did this for her could lie.
Smith looked down at his daughter, her blue eyes facing to the sun, her face smiling. He would miss her. He didn't want her to go. But he knew he must. He had to enjoy these last moments. . .
How can he do this?
But he didn't want her to go. He couldn't let her die. . . He couldn't. But he couldn't let her live. But he had to. All his work would be thrown away. But would it be worth it?
How can he lie?
Smith took Angel to the city. They flew between the cities. Angel saw her reflections in the windows, she smiled, but she frowned at the same time.
They flew downwards, the sensation of falling came over them. The wind blew their hair, and Angel stared at her father. Then they curved upward, just before hitting the streets. Angel turned and saw five copies making more. She turned, and buried her head in her father's chest.
How can he kill so many?
Smith turned to see her. Something was wrong. Angel's grip on her father tightened, she wasn't going to let go, never. Smith noticed this, and stopped in the air over the city. He nudged her to look at him.
"What is it?" He asked.
His voice. That voice. The voice of her father. The voice of love.
How can he?
Angel stared at him. Smith could see sadness in her eyes, and it worried him. He couldn't kill her, not when she looked like this. He couldn't. . . But. . .
"What is it?" He asked again.
Angel only stared, she wasn't going to answer him. Then she just grabbed him, and buried her face in his chest again. Then Smith let her be. Then he just went on flying again, letting the wind blow. He started to rise, to go into the clouds.
Angel could hear her father's heartbeat. He had a heart. He could love. He could. He had a heart.
Smith started spinning in the air, holding Angel tighter. He spinned through a cloud. The sun on their faces, the wind blowing. Smith was with his daughter. And he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. Nothing. No harm would come to her, except for him.
"Angel. . . Fly. Fly like an Angel." He said.
Angel looked up at him, and wondered what he meant. Smith let go of her legs, holding only her hand. Then they fell. Angel didn't know what was happening, the rush of falling was amazing. She didn't know what to think. Then she noticed her father was holding her hand. He held it tightly, not letting her go.
How can he lie?
Angel gazed up, watching the clouds become smaller and smaller. Then buildings rushed by her, the noises of the city being able to be heard once more. Then the stopped her father had her again.
How can he catch her and lie?
He smiled at her, and she smiled at him. Then Smith grabbed her by the hips. And floated right above her. Angel now looked straight down at the city. She was flying. It felt like flying. She held her father's hands at her hips, as they started to move. She was flying.
"Hold out your arms." Smith said.
Angel looked up at him. She trusted him. She let go of her father's hands, and held her arms out. It was flying. . .
How can the man who made her fly be like this?
Smith held his daughter. He couldn't loose her. He couldn't let her go, he couldn't let her fall. But. . .
They rose higher into the sky back to the clouds. And then Smith saw something, a river. He smiled. He was with his daughter, and he was trying to give her the world. He wouldn't question the emotions, they would soon leave, at least when Angel was gone. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't let her fall. Then he stopped. He just stopped. He wasn't going to think about the emotions. Just let them be. And they flew to the river. He lowered his daughter closer to the water, until she was only about a foot from the water.
Angel could see her reflection in the streaming water. She stared at herself in awe, as she flew. Then she put her hand in the water, splashing in out, disturbing the water. She smiled, and Smith smiled.
How can he?
Then Angel looked at herself again. She stopped smiling. What if her father was lying? What if. . .? She stopped smiling. She had to tell them. A tear hit the water. Angel wiped her tears.
"Daddy. . ." She said, faintly. "Daddy. . ."
Smith stopped, confused. He stopped and picked her up again. He held her by the shoulders now. Her chest touched his as he held.
"Yes?" He asked.
"I want to go home." Angel said, sadness in her voice.
"But. . ."
"Please."
Angel gripped Smith tighter. She buried her head in his chest. Her warmth rubbed off to him. Smith felt the warmth, and almost shivered. She was so warm.
"What is wrong?" He asked just like the first time they met.
"Daddy. . ." She replied just like the first time.
"What is wrong."
"Please."
Smith stopped. He would give her what she wanted.
"Alright." He said.
They started to fly in the other direction.
Just as their home was visible, Angel said it.
"Daddy. . ." She started.
"What it is?"
"I saw. . . Neo today. . ."
"What!?"
They landed in front of the building. Angel jumped out of her father's arms. She could hear the anger in his voice. She was scared. She didn't want to know the truth. She wanted to blue pill.
"Mr. Anderson!?" He yelled.
"His name is Neo." She said.
Smith froze.
"What?" He asked, quieter. "What happened!? What did he do to you!?"
Smith took a step closer to her, but Angel only backed away. What was wrong.
"Daddy. . . He made it seem like you're the bad guy." She said.
"There are no sides in war." He replied.
"He said you're killing them."
"The viruses?"
"The humans."
Smith had no answer.
"He said. . . He said. . ." Angel started to cry.
"What did he do to you!?" Smith was worried.
"Dad, you're using me aren't you?"
"What?"
Copies heard the yelling. Some looked through the windows, and a few walked outside to join them.
"What is my purpose!?" Angel yelled.
Smith stared at his daughter. He needed her. But she wouldn't let him. His eyes could almost cry because she was. He couldn't kill her now.
"Daddy. . . You've been lying to me. I can see it. I can see it in your eyes. I know it."
Smith stood silent.
"Angel. . ."
"You lied to me! You! You!"
"Angel. . ."
The copies could see Smith. They saw the emotion.
"Yes, he did." A copy said.
Smith turned to them surprised.
"What?" Smith asked.
"He has been lying to you this whole time." A copy said.
"You are an experiment." Another said.
"Angel. . ." Smith said.
"You were created to be a decoy." Copies said.
"You were going to do your purpose and be deleted!" They yelled.
"And now you are obsolete!"
"You are to be deleted."
Angel knew they told the truth. She knew it, she saw it in her father. He stood hunched, his eyes full of hatred, with only a little love. He lied to her.
"Angel!" He yelled.
Angel cried and cried. Her father. Her father. . .
"How could you!? What are you doing!? " She yelled.
"Angel. . ."
"Daddy!"
Angel couldn't do this. She turned the other way, and she ran as fast as she could.
"Angel!"
Angel didn't turn back, she kept running. Smith watched as his Angel ran away from him, farther from his grasp. He couldn't kill her. He could never kill her. But now. . . Now she wasn't even with him. His Angel was gone.
Copies started to run after her.
"No! Let her go. Others will find her." Smith said, and the copies stopped.
They would still kill her.
"Run, Angel." He whispered.
Then his Angel was gone.
She ran down the street, tears in her eyes. She stopped and looked at her hands. She needed it off. She needed the suit off. Off! Off now! She couldn't have it on, it was like her father's. It was full of lies! She needed off, off, off!
She ran down the streets, ripping the jacket off. She tore it off, and it stuck on her arm. She waved it off, and skipped as she untied her shined shoes.
Off!
It burned her skin. She needed it off. She ripped the bottom of her pants. And turned. There in a store. There. A cloak, like Neo's.
Off!
She jumped and broke the glass of the display, and ripped the cloak off. Angel ran into the store, people started running out. She ripped her clothes off, she needed them off.
Off!
Angel ripped off a black shirt and put in on. She got some new black pants and put them off. Then the cloak. And some boots. She stared to the floor. Her tie, and the book of poetry. She bent down, and grabbed the tie. She stared at it. Tears fell on it. She gripped it in her hand, and put it in her pocket along with the book. She ran outside, tears in her eyes. Then she turned. Copies. Copies were everywhere. She stared at them, and started running.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next Chapter: It's Your Fault
I love this.
I love you.
I love you, Daddy.
I quote Agent Brown from the original Matrix:
"What are you doing?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She ran down the streets, tears in her eyes, and humans watching her run by. She jumped through the crowded streets, knocking a couple people down as she went. The sounds of the city were not heard by Angel, only her tears. She ran as far away as she could from Neo, not wanting to get any closer, not wanting to her the truth, taking the blue pill before the red. Then she stopped, running into an alley, where no eyes could see her. She almost fell as she sat down behind some garbage. She just couldn't stop crying. . .
Her father loved her.
But her father lied.
She just wanted it all to stop.
In the damp, dark alley, Angel cried, and there was no one coming to comfort her. She was only a child. She was the daughter of Smith, but he would not come for her. She just wanted it to all stop. Why couldn't she just go away from her father? Why did he have to lie?
What if he wasn't lying? What if it was all lies that Neo told her? But she knew that was only denying the truth.
Her father was Smith. He had protected her, and held her, ever since her first moments of existence, she fell and he caught her. But she looked back to the days gone by. She banged her head against the wall, and peered up into the sky. Then she pictured her father. His suit black and perfect, his face unemotional, and his stance unmoving. She remembered the hatred in his blue eyes. . .
She shook her head.
"No!"
She punched a whole into the concrete of the ground.
She could picture the anger, and fire in his eyes, never able to see beauty. . . She remembered the evil in his voice, able to send chills down her spine with out her even realizing. She remembered the lack of emotion in his voice and movements. There was nothing there. . .
Angel stared at her hands, tears rolling down her blue eyes, falling to her hand. She rubbed her eyes, and buried her face in her legs. She remembered the warmth he gave her, when he held her, the sense of protection, the sound of his voice, empty of hatred. There was more to her father. Wasn't there? Or was it an act? Could he act that well?
Angel didn't know. And she didn't want to know. She just didn't even want to move. . . She just wanted her father.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Everything that has a beginning has an end. I see the end coming. I see the darkness spreading. I see death. And you are all that stands in his way."
"Smith." Neo said.
"Very soon he is going to have the power to this world. But I believe he won't stop there, he can't. You are all that stands in his way."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She had to get up now, but she wouldn't. She tried to stop crying, but she couldn't. She had to though. So she slowly got up, getting to her feet. She wiped her tears. And then she ran to her father.
Angel ran between the humans, passed her home, searching for the Oracle. And then she stopped, and stared at the sight before her. There were so many. She hadn't realized her father had made so much. They were increasing. Like making more every second. . . There copies stood all around a block. Some entering a building, some straying off, and some just standing there. Angel turned to see a woman walking towards them. The woman stopped to stare at the sight. She dropped her purse, and had a fearful look on her face. That's when four copies started to walk towards her. One put his hand up, to signal it was okay, but then another lunged his whole arm into her side, and the copying process began. Then stood another Smith. Angel stared as copies went in all directions, they were going to go make more. . .
He was killing people. . .
Angel stared off in horror at the copies. Then she shook her head, and closed her eyes. Just go to Daddy, she told herself. The copies stared at her. All of them, as if there was something wrong with her. Everywhere, their eyes stared. She could feel their eyes, all looking at her. What was wrong? All they did was stare, and show an emotionless, heartless face. Was that her father? Then she stopped. She looked up. Angel didn't know if she was ready to face her father. Or to even get through the copies. What if he had lied? What if. . . ? Angel was just a child. She couldn't take this. But then again, she was the child of Agent Smith. She closed her eyes, and made a fist. She was the child of Smith. She was. Then Angel ran through the copies, up the stairs. She shoved them out of the way. They were everywhere. . . She closed her eyes, not wanting to see them, not wanting their gaze. But then one struck her down. A copy knocked her to the floor, showing her only hatred. Angel sat in the corner of the stairs, copies continued to go up. What if her father was like this? Heartless, cold. What if he didn't care? The copies were a part of Smith. . .
Angel got up again. Going with them, slowly walking up the stairs. She wouldn't fight them, she couldn't. She stared at the floor, as they walked. Then Angel looked at one, in his hand was a gun. Why was there a need for guns? The copy turned to see her stare, and she diverted her eyes to the floor again. The stairs seemed to drag on, like they'd never stop. There was always another step. All she wanted was her father, all she wanted was his grasp, his protection. That's all. That's all. She was tired. Tired from fight, from running, from crying. She just wanted Smith.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"And you must be the last Exile." Smith said, bending down to the child.
"The Oracle told me about you." The child said.
" And what did she say about me?"
"She said you were a bad man."
"Oh, I'm not so bad, once you get to know me."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then the stairs ended. The copies filled the hallways, searching every door, every room. Angel stood there for a moment, surrounded by her father's copies. She looked around, she couldn't find him. Where was her father? Angel got a little worried. She just wanted him. She took one step, her mouth open, her eyes searching. There were so many of them. . . So many copies. She didn't know there was this many, they're weren't in fact. There weren't this many when she was created. . . All she knew is that they were everywhere. And then Smith stepped out of a door.
"Daddy!" Angel yelled with a little desperation.
She ran to her father, grabbing him. Smith was surprised by her. He stepped back a little, not wanting the others to see. But then he saw how Angel held him. Something was wrong, she wouldn't let go.
"Daddy. . ."
"Angel, I have to go do something." He said.
There was that voice. That voice full of love, no hatred, no anger. That voice that only wanted the best for Angel. That voice that would protect her. The warm voice. Angel heard it. How can something with such love in the voice create such monsters? Angel wondered to herself, thinking of the copies. How could he lie to her, with that voice? How could he?
"Angel. . ." Smith started.
She didn't want to let go. . . She didn't want to let her father leave her, she didn't want him to leave her. But she let go. . . She nodded to him, and he went into another room. She and some copies followed him.
They entered an apartment that seemed dead. There was furniture, and things, but the color was pale. Like everything was going to die. Angel shuddered. Then they entered a room, the kitchen. And there sat an old woman. The Oracle. A copy stopped Angel at the door, and she stopped watching from the shadows.
Angel watched as her father became something she didn't know. The love in his face was now full of anger. Hatred burned in his eyes, anger in his voice, anger in his motions. Angel didn't like him like this. She didn't want him to be like this. Why did he have to hate? Why couldn't he just love her?
"The great and powerful Oracle. We meet at last." Smith said.
His voice sent shivers down Angel's spine.
"I suppose you've been expecting me. Right? The all-knowing Oracle is never surprised. How can she be? She knows everything. If that's true, why is she here? If she knew I was coming, why didn't leave?"
The old woman only stared at Smith. Smith stared back at her. Then he picked up the cookie jar and threw it into the wall, breaking it. Angel fell back, frightened of it. Why was he like this?
"Maybe you knew I was going to do that, maybe you didn't. If you did that means you baked those cookies, and set that plate right there, deliberately, purposefully. Which means you're sitting there also deliberately, purposefully." Smith said.
"What did you do with Sati?" The Oracle asked.
"Cookies need love, like everything does." A copy said.
The Smiths laughed. Did he kill this Sati? Angel asked herself.
"You are a bastard." The Oracle said.
"You would know, mom."
"Do what you're here to do."
"Yes, ma'am."
Smith reached over to her, and stuck two fingers into The Oracle's wrist. Darkness spreaded over the Oracle. And all Angel could do was watch. But something happened. The code of the Matrix erupted. Wind came from the Oracle. A gust flew through the room, the power of the Oracle being contained by a mere copy. Angel's hair flew into her eyes, as fear got to her. Smith lunged his fingers out of the new copy, and slowly took a step back. Then Angel noticed something. What was wrong? Why did her father look different? Why did he look like a copy!? She turned to the new copy, the one made from the Oracle. And she froze. The copy was her father, she knew, she could tell. The copy began to back up. And Smith got up out of the chair. He needed to get his sunglasses off, see the Matrix with his new eyes, the eyes of the Oracle. He needed to. Now. He took them off, and stared into nothing for a moment, using the eyes of the Oracle. Angel saw something she never saw before. There was fear in the copies' eyes. What was wrong? Smith had it. He had her. This new power. He had it! Neo stood no chance now. And then Smith laughed, the power was too much.
Angel heard her father's laugh. It sent chills down her neck. There was evil in that laugh. She got up, concern in her eyes.
"Daddy?" She asked to the copy of the Oracle.
The copy smiled a smile to her. Then he looked down at himself, holding his hands out, and straightened his suit.
"I guess so." He said, smiling.
Angel turned to who use to be her father, he looked like a copy.
"How?" She asked.
"I transferred my data through the code. This body will be most powerful, I need it for myself." He said.
Then Smith turned to the other room. He walked by her and the copies, out into the balcony. The wind slightly blew his hair, as he squinted from the sun to the world. He looked in all directions as Angel joined him.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Can't you feel it? Can't you feel it through your veins? It going through your blood?" He asked.
"What?"
"The power."
Angel didn't understand. She looked down at her hand, and stretched it. Then she felt something. She made a fist, and punched through the air, quicker than ever before. Then she started punching. She was doing faster than ever before. But it seemed so easy.
"I'm stronger." She said.
Smith smiled.
"Indeed. The Oracle is a very powerful program. Since she is now me, we acquire her power. We are more powerful than ever before, we are too much for Mr. Anderson." He said.
Angel perked up when she heard Neo's name. She had to tell him.
"In fact. . ." Smith started, as he stared off into the sky. "I think I can. . ."
Smith jumped into the air, but didn't come back down. He floated in the air, just above the balcony. He held out his hand and stared at himself, and laughed. Angel looked up in awe. She jumped, but didn't do the same thing.
"I am the Oracle, I have more power than the others." Smith said.
He laughed and reached out his hand to Angel. She took it, and jumped. Smith caught her. How can the person who caught her lie? Then he put her in his arms. And Smith felt his daughter's warmth. He enjoyed her warmth, he loved it. He would miss it. He knew it. He had to kill her. But not now. Now he just needed one last moment, one last moment with her. He would give her happiness, one last time. He embraced her, as the flew higher into the sky.
Angel looked up at her father, his eyes as blue as the sky. How can the person that made her fly do this to her?
They were now higher than any of the buildings of the city. Smith took a moment to allow his daughter to see it. His arm held up her head, the other holding her legs up. There they floated, above everything else.
How can he do this? How can he give her this, but lie?
Then Smith held her tighter, and they flew towards the sun. The wind blowing in their eyes, and their hair. The warmth of the sun getting closer to her.
How can he give her such warmth and be this monster?
Angel smiled at this gift from her father.
She wondered how the person who did this for her could lie.
Smith looked down at his daughter, her blue eyes facing to the sun, her face smiling. He would miss her. He didn't want her to go. But he knew he must. He had to enjoy these last moments. . .
How can he do this?
But he didn't want her to go. He couldn't let her die. . . He couldn't. But he couldn't let her live. But he had to. All his work would be thrown away. But would it be worth it?
How can he lie?
Smith took Angel to the city. They flew between the cities. Angel saw her reflections in the windows, she smiled, but she frowned at the same time.
They flew downwards, the sensation of falling came over them. The wind blew their hair, and Angel stared at her father. Then they curved upward, just before hitting the streets. Angel turned and saw five copies making more. She turned, and buried her head in her father's chest.
How can he kill so many?
Smith turned to see her. Something was wrong. Angel's grip on her father tightened, she wasn't going to let go, never. Smith noticed this, and stopped in the air over the city. He nudged her to look at him.
"What is it?" He asked.
His voice. That voice. The voice of her father. The voice of love.
How can he?
Angel stared at him. Smith could see sadness in her eyes, and it worried him. He couldn't kill her, not when she looked like this. He couldn't. . . But. . .
"What is it?" He asked again.
Angel only stared, she wasn't going to answer him. Then she just grabbed him, and buried her face in his chest again. Then Smith let her be. Then he just went on flying again, letting the wind blow. He started to rise, to go into the clouds.
Angel could hear her father's heartbeat. He had a heart. He could love. He could. He had a heart.
Smith started spinning in the air, holding Angel tighter. He spinned through a cloud. The sun on their faces, the wind blowing. Smith was with his daughter. And he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. Nothing. No harm would come to her, except for him.
"Angel. . . Fly. Fly like an Angel." He said.
Angel looked up at him, and wondered what he meant. Smith let go of her legs, holding only her hand. Then they fell. Angel didn't know what was happening, the rush of falling was amazing. She didn't know what to think. Then she noticed her father was holding her hand. He held it tightly, not letting her go.
How can he lie?
Angel gazed up, watching the clouds become smaller and smaller. Then buildings rushed by her, the noises of the city being able to be heard once more. Then the stopped her father had her again.
How can he catch her and lie?
He smiled at her, and she smiled at him. Then Smith grabbed her by the hips. And floated right above her. Angel now looked straight down at the city. She was flying. It felt like flying. She held her father's hands at her hips, as they started to move. She was flying.
"Hold out your arms." Smith said.
Angel looked up at him. She trusted him. She let go of her father's hands, and held her arms out. It was flying. . .
How can the man who made her fly be like this?
Smith held his daughter. He couldn't loose her. He couldn't let her go, he couldn't let her fall. But. . .
They rose higher into the sky back to the clouds. And then Smith saw something, a river. He smiled. He was with his daughter, and he was trying to give her the world. He wouldn't question the emotions, they would soon leave, at least when Angel was gone. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't let her fall. Then he stopped. He just stopped. He wasn't going to think about the emotions. Just let them be. And they flew to the river. He lowered his daughter closer to the water, until she was only about a foot from the water.
Angel could see her reflection in the streaming water. She stared at herself in awe, as she flew. Then she put her hand in the water, splashing in out, disturbing the water. She smiled, and Smith smiled.
How can he?
Then Angel looked at herself again. She stopped smiling. What if her father was lying? What if. . .? She stopped smiling. She had to tell them. A tear hit the water. Angel wiped her tears.
"Daddy. . ." She said, faintly. "Daddy. . ."
Smith stopped, confused. He stopped and picked her up again. He held her by the shoulders now. Her chest touched his as he held.
"Yes?" He asked.
"I want to go home." Angel said, sadness in her voice.
"But. . ."
"Please."
Angel gripped Smith tighter. She buried her head in his chest. Her warmth rubbed off to him. Smith felt the warmth, and almost shivered. She was so warm.
"What is wrong?" He asked just like the first time they met.
"Daddy. . ." She replied just like the first time.
"What is wrong."
"Please."
Smith stopped. He would give her what she wanted.
"Alright." He said.
They started to fly in the other direction.
Just as their home was visible, Angel said it.
"Daddy. . ." She started.
"What it is?"
"I saw. . . Neo today. . ."
"What!?"
They landed in front of the building. Angel jumped out of her father's arms. She could hear the anger in his voice. She was scared. She didn't want to know the truth. She wanted to blue pill.
"Mr. Anderson!?" He yelled.
"His name is Neo." She said.
Smith froze.
"What?" He asked, quieter. "What happened!? What did he do to you!?"
Smith took a step closer to her, but Angel only backed away. What was wrong.
"Daddy. . . He made it seem like you're the bad guy." She said.
"There are no sides in war." He replied.
"He said you're killing them."
"The viruses?"
"The humans."
Smith had no answer.
"He said. . . He said. . ." Angel started to cry.
"What did he do to you!?" Smith was worried.
"Dad, you're using me aren't you?"
"What?"
Copies heard the yelling. Some looked through the windows, and a few walked outside to join them.
"What is my purpose!?" Angel yelled.
Smith stared at his daughter. He needed her. But she wouldn't let him. His eyes could almost cry because she was. He couldn't kill her now.
"Daddy. . . You've been lying to me. I can see it. I can see it in your eyes. I know it."
Smith stood silent.
"Angel. . ."
"You lied to me! You! You!"
"Angel. . ."
The copies could see Smith. They saw the emotion.
"Yes, he did." A copy said.
Smith turned to them surprised.
"What?" Smith asked.
"He has been lying to you this whole time." A copy said.
"You are an experiment." Another said.
"Angel. . ." Smith said.
"You were created to be a decoy." Copies said.
"You were going to do your purpose and be deleted!" They yelled.
"And now you are obsolete!"
"You are to be deleted."
Angel knew they told the truth. She knew it, she saw it in her father. He stood hunched, his eyes full of hatred, with only a little love. He lied to her.
"Angel!" He yelled.
Angel cried and cried. Her father. Her father. . .
"How could you!? What are you doing!? " She yelled.
"Angel. . ."
"Daddy!"
Angel couldn't do this. She turned the other way, and she ran as fast as she could.
"Angel!"
Angel didn't turn back, she kept running. Smith watched as his Angel ran away from him, farther from his grasp. He couldn't kill her. He could never kill her. But now. . . Now she wasn't even with him. His Angel was gone.
Copies started to run after her.
"No! Let her go. Others will find her." Smith said, and the copies stopped.
They would still kill her.
"Run, Angel." He whispered.
Then his Angel was gone.
She ran down the street, tears in her eyes. She stopped and looked at her hands. She needed it off. She needed the suit off. Off! Off now! She couldn't have it on, it was like her father's. It was full of lies! She needed off, off, off!
She ran down the streets, ripping the jacket off. She tore it off, and it stuck on her arm. She waved it off, and skipped as she untied her shined shoes.
Off!
It burned her skin. She needed it off. She ripped the bottom of her pants. And turned. There in a store. There. A cloak, like Neo's.
Off!
She jumped and broke the glass of the display, and ripped the cloak off. Angel ran into the store, people started running out. She ripped her clothes off, she needed them off.
Off!
Angel ripped off a black shirt and put in on. She got some new black pants and put them off. Then the cloak. And some boots. She stared to the floor. Her tie, and the book of poetry. She bent down, and grabbed the tie. She stared at it. Tears fell on it. She gripped it in her hand, and put it in her pocket along with the book. She ran outside, tears in her eyes. Then she turned. Copies. Copies were everywhere. She stared at them, and started running.
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Next Chapter: It's Your Fault
I love this.
I love you.
I love you, Daddy.