3
Sekhmet slipped into the club. Though the Twins still scared her, she had learned to ignore them… mostly. She was hoping that she had the capacity to lie. The Merovingian was in his usual spot, above everyone else, sitting with his wife and surrounded by bodyguards. The symbolism made her want to gag. She wove her way to the upper floor.
"Ah, my little kitten. How went ze mission?" he called to her, his smile indicating he already knew. Her eyebrow twitched at his persistence in calling her 'kitten'. "If you know, why ask?"
"Because I want to hear it come from your lips."
"He escaped."
"Why did you not go after him?"
"He was holding onto a subway train. I wouldn't have been able to catch up."
"Very well... at least you tried." He then went on to talk to another of his minions about something else. Sekhmet blinked. He was letting her off so easily? He didn't appear to give her even a sideways glance.
Suspecting something was up, she started to walk away - and stopped. Near the Twins. She couldn't continue running from them, after all. "You want something?" one of them asked. "No," she replied. She wouldn't run away she wouldn't run away she wouldn't run away….
"Have a little time for us now, then?" the other... or the same one… asked.
"…." Maybe she should take this one step at a time?
"Oh, kitten, I almost forgot." The Merovingian called out. She turned to look at him. "What?" "You still 'ave work to do." He said, and then pressed a small button on a small remote control.
Without warning, Sekhmet blacked out as her new programming came into play, unleashing Bastet. "You know what you 'ave to do, do you not?" The Frenchman replied. "I believe so… but you may have to refresh my memory."
"Ze rogue program Marcus needs to be recaptured."
Bastet bowed. "It will be done." "Zen go... and make sure to get your actions on tape." "Yes, sir," she replied, before turning sharply on her heel and exiting. She did pause momentarily to flirt with the Twins… the better to frighten her host body with.
***
Marcus dropped off the train far down the line, quickly slipping into some side passages and going deeper into the forgotten catacombs of the labyrinthine city. He'd often wondered how far up and down the Matrix ascended and descended. This was a perfect time to find out.
"Hello, handsome," purred a voice that was familiar… but different. He turned. "Sekhmet?"
"Hmm… not quite." She looked like Sekhmet, but she held herself proudly, with a confidence Sekhmet didn't possess. She had also forgone the hat and trench coat, letting her ears and tail be seen.
He stepped into a fighting stance. "Copy or subprogram?"
"That would be telling, wouldn't it? I'm sure he will tell you if he sees fit."
"'He' being the Frenchman, I presume."
"Who else?" Bastet smiled as her fingernails lengthened into claws. "Come, Marcus… dance with me."
He lowered his stance slightly. "We don't have to do this."
"Yes, we do… you see, he told me to recapture you."
He sighed. "Very well… let us begin." Bastet immediately lunged for him, slashing with her claws. She was faster than Sekhmet. The vampiric program leapt away from her assault, up to the ceiling which he connected with briefly before shoving off of it, launching his body straight for Bastet. She pounced off of the floor right back at him, an unholy smile on her face. They met in the air, Marcus launching a punch straight for the female program She caught it with one hand, her claws digging into his flesh, while her other hand sunk the claws deep into his midsection, raking them up his body.
He grimaced a little, and then grabbed her arm back, flipping over her body and landing on the ground. Then, using his momentum, he flipped her back over his head, slamming her hard into the concrete floor of the tunnel.
She cried out at the impact, a cry that sounded exactly like that of her weaker self. Bastet frowned. As if looking like the weakling wasn't bad enough. Her legs kicked out at his head. The hit connected, and he stumbled back, but entered a fighting stance. She rose gracefully to her feet. "Why not just give up?" she purred. "My programming has given me the same mentality of a mythical creature that lives forever on the blood of its former fellows. It's made me a survivor."
"You won't survive long with wounds like those." She indicated the deep gashes in his gut. "That's your life slipping away."
He smirked. "Maybe if I was programmed as mortal."
"Ah, but even vampires can be destroyed…."
"Did your master happen to give you a stake?" The vampire program stepped back slightly, into a firmer stance. "No. I made one."
"But you're supposed to bring me in, not kill me."
"I'm sure he will understand if my hand happened to… slip."
He chuckled darkly. "You truly are his creation, aren't you?"
"I doubt it… after all, he didn't write me. But… he ordered me written, so that might count. Now, are you coming quietly, or do I have to drag your mangled body with me?"
"What makes you think I won't dissolve into mist or explode into bats and hide deeper in the chamber?"
"He'll probably get rid of her for good."
He hesitated. "In that case... the latter." "So… you do have an emotional attachment to her. How… intriguing…." Bastet smirked. "Let us dance, then." "If you wish." He didn't move from his stance.
Again that unholy grin spread over her features before she lunged for him again. He ran for her and then suddenly dropped and slid under her, slamming his legs up into her gut, and then pushing up off the floor with his hands, throwing her down the corridor. She twisted in midair like a cat, rebounding hard off of a random piece of machinery to soar right back at him, claws extended. He rolled to his feet and leapt over her, slamming both of his boots down on her head before he flipped midair to land on his feet.
"So… you were holding back against my otherself…," Bastet said thoughtfully as she rose to her feet.
"I didn't want to hurt her."
"Why? She was sent to capture you; she was your enemy."
"I could tell she did not want to do what she was being made to do."
"You emotional fool," Bastet sneered before lunging for him again. He lunged back for her again, meeting her mid-attack. The cat-girl slashed at him viciously, snarling. He blocked the attack, taking a little peripheral damage as he launched a knee for the infected program's chest. She was thrown backwards, slamming into the wall with enough force that Sekhmet's cry of pain was torn from her lips again.
A pang of guilt washed through the vampiric program, but he kept his fighting stance. The feline program looked up at him. "M-marcus…?" she whispered. "Sekhmet?" he asked, dropping his arms slightly. "Marcus… what's going on? Why am I here? I can't…" She trembled. "What's happened to me?"
He stepped over to her and kneeled in front of the program. "You were being controlled by a subprogram... you're better now." "I don't… remember…." Bastet concealed a smile. It was working.
"It's not surprising... such a program would probably block out your memory."
"Marcus… why does my head hurt?"
"I was forced to fight back... I am sorry...." He lowered his head a little.
She gasped as her eyes fell on his wounds. "Marcus… did I do that to you!?" He nodded. "Do not concern yourself...the Merovingian's programming makes me very hard to kill."
"And yet you're still a fool," Bastet's voice sneered in his ear as she slammed the brick she'd been hiding up and against his head. He stumbled back, holding his head. "A... trick…." "Of course," Bastet smiled, rising gracefully and walking to him. "I had to get your guard down, and you yourself betrayed your weakness to me." She clubbed him a second time.
He stumbled again, trying to regain balance. Blood smeared his forehead. "Oh, you are a stubborn one, aren't you? I wonder how many hits it takes to keep a vampire down? Shall we find out?" She hit him again.
He slumped to the ground, losing all coherence, his head spinning. Bastet smiled, and kicked him hard. He lapsed finally into unconsciousness, slumping down onto the concrete floor. Bastet laughed, picking up his limp body - or trying to. He was too heavy. Frowning, she dialled the Merovingian.
"Bonjour?"
"I have him, but he's too heavy for me to carry."
"Where are you?"
She gave him the location, then added, "He seems to have an emotional attachment to my other self. That's how I caught him." "Very good... I suspected as much, of course." A few seconds later, a rusty metal door opened nearby her, and a group of minions stepped out, to gather the vampire program.
Bastet stepped aside to let them pass. "Your orders, sir?"
"Return to your hotel room, and place ze tape of your actions on ze nightstand."
"Understood." She hung up and obeyed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hi! Who likes Bastet more than Sekhmet? Anyone?
Nothing much to say tonight….
Priestess of Anubis: I know he is. He's supposed to be. And the Twins… are the Twins. ::shrug::
Stormhawk: Glad you liked the chapter. And to think Soldier Zero and I churned out the first five in a night… damn. We like the exiles as well, and I have a tendency to obsess over minor characters ‒ Gundam Wing's Officer Walker, who had maybe 5 minutes of screen time total, Seraph, the Twins, Apoc, Artemis Fowl's Trouble Kelp, Fushigi Yugi's drunken bandit and Kouji… the list goes on.
Tobias Andarion: We meet again, Toby! ::glomps:: Where've you been!? E-mail me, dammit! ^__^ Glad you like our story so far; more updates are coming!