Disclaimer: I, sadly, don't own them. :(
Author's Note: Sorry for not updating, I've been to Adelaide, Australia for two weeks and just got back on Saturday night. I'll be away from the 24th of December to the 1st of January. Touring Egypt with my family. :)
Her light sleep was jarred when she heard a key slid into the door and the door swung open. She did not bother craning her head or risk straining her cramped neck muscles to see who it was. She already knew. She had only one visitor; her captor.
And that would be Smith.
His presence could be felt; his cold demeanor, even if he wasn't in her specter yet.
Her eyes fell on the blood stains on her clothes.
He did this to me.
Her shoulder still throbbed painfully, the effects of the drug he had given her early that morning wearing off.
His ridiculously over-polished leather shoes squeaked as he slowly made his way across the linoleum floor.
'Good morning,' he drawled, every syllables rolling on his tongue.
'Let me go.'
'I have shown you hospitality and you wish to leave so quickly?'
'NOW, GODDAMNIT!'
He leaned in towards her, his forehead millimeters away from hers.
She was suddenly dimly aware that he smelt faintly of peppermint and cinnamon.
Peppermint? Cinnamon? Agents? SMITH!?
'Do not anger me, my dear rebel, there would be serious consequences if you do…' He breathed softly, his cold grey eyes holding her.
'Kindly remove your face from mine.'
He bared his teeth in and his hand gripped her hair and yanked it backwards, forcing her head to tilt back in an painfully uncomfortable position.
'Let me go!'
Surprisingly, he did release his grip on her and stepped away.
Smith was silent, watching his captive with mild interest.
'Tell me, what do you feel now?'
She blinked in confusion, 'What the hell are you on about?'
'Your emotion, your thoughts,' his hand tracing an intricate pattern in the air, attempting to get the message across.
'Why the hell do you care? Leave me alone!'
He sat at the side of her bed instead with a deep sighed and his grey eyes wandered over her form, studying her.
'Humans are complex beings-they act on impulse and on emotions. It is a generic flaw in the creation of man; irrational and unpredictable. Yet, despite all these flaws, they thrive…'
Sick bastard.
'Tell me, my little rebel, what drives your race? Would you consider emotions a weakness?'
'No…'
He gazed at her with renewed interest. 'Why?'
'Because…because it helps us.'
'Does it really? You were captured by me because your emotions got better of you. You wanted to save your precious The One,' he sneered, 'tell me, was it worth it?'
'Yes.'
'How can you be so sure? You are wounded, helpless and bound in my mercy; I could easily kill you now, if I choose to. If you had made the decision to dial-out two days ago, in that motel room, you would not be in this circumstances. You would be safe with your other rebels, pursuing yet another lost cause. Mr. Anderson and I would have a little chat, of course, but no doubt he would be able to escape, hmm?' he purred.
She drew in a shaky breath.
Yes, it was true. I should have dialed-out. Neo would have been able to handle him. I shouldn't have done it… but I had to.
But had she really?
Did I really have to? Trinity wondered.
Was it a mistake? One that I would regret?
'Do you love him?'
'Who?' But she already knew.
'The one you call Neo.'
'Yes.' There was no hesitation.
'But what is love? How would you define it?'
She snorted.
Smith? Asking about love? This was getting ridiculous. She decided to go along with it, however.
'Love? It's a feeling. Love helps us. If you love someone great enough, you would do anything for him or her.'
'Like you dialing Mr. Anderson out before you?'
'Sort of.'
'Explain.'
She sighed tiredly. This was getting old really fast.
'Some things, Smith, can't be explained in just words. It would be too difficult. Actions speak louder than words, and in the question of love, that saying has truth in it.'
He said nothing, but a slight, almost unnoticeable sneer was playing on his thin lips.
She closed her bloodshot eyes tiredly and swallowed a sigh.
I cannot take this anymore… All the pain, the lies… Damn it Smith! Take back the lies! Take back the pain!She drew in a sharp and shaky breath and let it out slowly.
'Gods…' she breathed and forced her watering eyes open.
Smith stood and walked to her restrained legs. Without a word, he loosened both straps. Her feet itched and prickled as blood circulated once more. Hot pins and needles tattooed her soles, both ticklish and painful.
'What are you doing?' she demanded, disbelief clearly written on her pale, worn face at his doings.
Is he setting me free?
Trinity fought to remain calm and struggled to keep her hopes leashed.
His expression was stoic and he remained silent as he reached for the bonds that held her arms.
She immediately sat up, massaging the red and bruised skin on her wrist-reminders of the countless times she had pulled at the unyielding straps until she skin tore and bled.
She watched him wearily. She was very well aware that he could very well kill her now, even without his gun. Her muscles ached with disuse, and her feet still prickled maddeningly with the attack of the pins and needles. She doubted that she could walk (or hobble), much less run to the door that she hoped lead to freedom before she was captured again.
She set her bare feet gingerly on the floor and almost recoiled at the icy coldness that met her feet. Trinity eyed the door once more doubtfully before she placed her weight fully on her feet and stood. Dizziness washed over her-her world was spinning hazardously and she stumbled before Smith caught her uninjured shoulder to steady her.
Nauseous and disorientated, she let him.
Gradually, the world settled and she shook her head to clear it and took long, steady breaths calm herself.
Is he setting me free?Firmly, albeit gently, the ex-Agent led her to the door.
'Where are you taking me?'
To freedom? To Neo?He regarded her from the sides of his eyes and released his hold.
'Follow me,' was his reply.
His walked ahead of her, his steps sure and calculated, moving fluidly. She stumbled after him, grappling at the wall of the long corridor to steady herself.
The hallway ran straight, with no doors at either side. The only door that could be seen was the door to her prison.
There is no where to run…No, she corrected herself, there is; straight into Smith or back to that room… my dungeon… my cell…
Neither seemed appealing.
Not that I can run anyway, she thought sardonically.
She almost walked right into Smith when he stopped in front of a door on the left.
He grasped the silver doorknob and pushed. The door swung opened noiselessly. Smith retreated a step or two and permitted her to inch forward for a look.
Freedom?
She stared blankly.
She tired to swallow the sobs clawing for release at her throat.
No, not freedom…He propelled her unresisting form inside.
'Half an hour,' was all he said, before the door was shut behind her and she heard the lock turn.
Half an hour…Trinity felt her knees tremble weakly and she sat on the cold, flawless marble floor, still staring but unseeing. Her drew her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. Sobs erupted uncalled for to her throat and she buried her wet face into her arms. She wept, feeling alone and lost.
No, not freedom…Then the sobs turned into hysterical laughter. She shrieked and struck her clench fist on the floor repeatedly, still laughing, still crying. Her fist was clenched to hard, her fingernails dug into the flesh, imprinting little crescent moons in her palms.
Neo…She bit her lip, her throat constricted tightly in an attempt to stem her lost hope. She wiped her salty tears away furiously and pulled herself up.
She studied the room.
Another prison for another… she thought wirily.
Not exactly. This was only temporary. No doubt she would be taken back to her other prison.
Half an hour…She made her way slowly to the sink. She grasped the side tightly and looked at her reflection in the mirror.
Gods…What she saw shocked her. Her pallid skin was tight and plastered to her skull, defining her high cheekbones even more. The skin around her eyes were dark-results from sleepless nights and her once neat, thick hair were a straggled, greasy mess.
She almost didn't recognize herself. Only her eyes, which once hid behind dark shades were the same clear blue.
Slowly, she removed her stained clothing and studied her wound in the mirror.
At least it is healing…She twisted the handles and water gushed from the showerhead. She stepped into the welcoming warm water, pulling the curtain close behind her. Warm water beat down on her, and she revolved around slowly. She had almost forgotten what it was like having a shower. It was like being embrace by gentle arms, protected and safe.
Neo…
It took her a moment to realize that she was crying again, the salty tears mingled with the water.
She reached for a bar of soap and washed herself, drawing in deep breaths of the scented, humid air. She lathered and washed her hair next, running her fingers through the tangles to smoothen it out. She took one last slow turn under the water which became three slow turns. Then she twisted the handles and stepped out.
As she rubbed herself dry, she noticed a pile of clothing folded neatly on a chair. Holding one up, she saw that the shapeless top resembled that of a hospital gown. She dressed herself, savoring the feeling of being clean.
She ran the brush that she found on the polished countertop through her damp hair. The hair accessories assembled neatly in row caught her eye; barrettes, bands, clips, pin…
A small smile tugged her lips upwards at the thought of Smith shopping for hairclips, before a frown conquered and she wrenched herself upright. Half an hour…Her eyes widen.
Half an hour… What is half an hour yet? How long did I take? How much time more before he comes back?
She tried the door, even though she knew that it was locked. She kicked the door in frustration, tears again threatening to spill. She never cried so many times since she was six.
Trinity's heart sank deeper into hopelessness and she sat at the counter, rested her forehead on the cool surface. Her gaze fell on the brush and wandered over the counter, once more at the hair accessories, she picked up a black barrette before placing it back. She closed her eyes and sighed tiredly.
I cannot take this anymore…
Her fingers wandered aimlessly, fingering the plastic accessories when her digits brushed the hairpins.
Pins…Her eyes flew open and she grabbed it.
Would it be possible to…?She lunged at the door, almost toppling her seat and immediately set to work to unlock the door.
Minutes later, with her heart pounding, Trinity pushed the door open gently and peered around it. Smith was not in sight.
She threw the door open and flung herself out and sprinted down, in the direction she guessed led to freedom and away from her prison. Her bare feet slapped the floor.
She turned a corner and ran straight into Smith's arms.
'No!' she yelled, struggling. 'Let me go! Fuck you! Let me go!'
In one swift movement, Smith had her back to him, her arms pinned to her sides. He walked them back, Trinity trying to break free, twisting and writhing almost serpent-like.
Smith threw her into the room and she fell on her injured shoulder, drawing a sharp hiss of pain from her.
'You were trying to escape,' he accused, a feral snarl becoming on his lips.
He grabbed her by her dark locks shoved her onto the bed. Trinity struck out and backhanded him. He growled, and managed, somehow, to fasten her hands to the bed again.
'Just fucking let me go!' she yelled, trying to kick him.
He grabbed a foot that almost met his groin and strapped it down and went on to the last free limb.
She glared at him, beads of sweat peppering her flushed face.
From within the folds of his suit, Smith drew his gun.
Trinity's throat constricted in fear, the insult that she was about to hurl died on her tongue.
He's going to kill me!'You must understand that I cannot allow you to escape…'
There was a hollow click as the safety catch went off.
Trinity said nothing but stared at the Desert Eagle, filled with dread.
Oh, God! No! Please!Her mind screamed and begged the sentient program not too. The words refuse to come to her mouth and she watched, almost drowning in fear as Smith pulled the trigger.
TBC…
Author's Note: Sorry once more for the lack of updates recently. Expect another update around the first week of January 2004. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Also, I apologize if you find, in the previous chapter, that my response to reviewer was too long-I will still use the same method, but I promise that the chapter itself would be longer than the response! :)
Response to Reviewers:
Piercing blue eyes skimmed over the words on the screen, reading.
'Both Jess and Ferum Oxide have valid points, the response to reviewers in the previous chapter was longer and it should be, however, it was a test run and the flaws have been corrected and rectified.'
A tiny muscle in his cheek twitched when he read the next review. Neo, who noticed the miniscule movement asked, 'What is it?'
'It appears that I have been poked by Yami Maleci.'
'Excuse me?'
The machine ignored him and kept reading. Neo shook his head slightly, still confused, and read over his shoulder.
'Don't worry about not reviewing, Tari Troi,' muttered Neo under his breath.
'claudia Valenzuela seem to think that I am the sexiest in the Matrix,' a grin was plastered on the AI's smug face.
'So what?' shot Neo, 'I have fans too!'
Smith shrugged carelessly. 'What ever you say.'
Neo flushed red.
Trinity placed a comforting arm around his shoulders and kissed him lightly on his cheek. 'Ignore that bastard,' she murmured into his ear.
'Trinity has a fan too, a being called IsINhaAaA.'
In response, the rebel fighter merely snuggled deeper into Neo's chest.
'Mmm hmm.'
Smith paused. 'Don't you want to read any of the reviews?'
'Mmm hmm.'
The Agent sighed. 'Humans.'
He read the next review and a genuine smile graced his features. 'You are forgiven, virus Sonatte, to err is human, to forgive divine.'
Trinity snorted and pulled away from Neo.
'Get over yourself, Smith!'
'How can I, when there are so many people out there who worship the very ground that I walk on?'
'What the hell are you on about?'
He pointed at the computer screen, as if all the answer of the universe were displayed there and said, 'Take a look for yourself.'
Trinity scrunched she eyes up and squinted at the tiny print.
'Blast fanfiction.net, the font is tiny!'
She clicked an icon and the text immediately enlarged. Trinity read a few reviews in silence then whistled appreciatively. 'Bloody hell, Smith! You do have loads of fans!'
'Yes, and UniqueS appears to be one.'
Neo slumped in defeat. 'I am The One and he has more fans than I do! It's not fair!' he whined to no one in particular.
'The author sends her regards to alocin, TrinitysBitch, Heather David and Matrixation and thanks them for gracing her with reviews,' intoned Smith in a gravel monotone, as if he was reading something of a piece of paper. (Which, in fact, he was.)
'Beguile likes the way the author has responded to the reviews.'
Smith said nothing, he was too busy reading the next review from Selina Enriques with narrowed eyes to notice. 'So…' he breathed, his voice deceivingly calm. 'So…' he repeated.
'So what?'
He glared sharply at Neo.
'The author is changing my purpose! She is changing me!' he drew his gun and stood.
'Where are you going?'
Smith opened the door and shut it firmly behind him. Then there was screams and loud noises (as if someone was hurled into a mahogany desk and breaking three ribs in the process) coming from behind the closed door. Both rebels winced when what sounded like a lamp shattering and a muffled "oomph" came.
There was a shot… then complete silence. The door opened and Smith stepped out, adjusting his shades and tie. No one said anything. Then Neo couldn't stand the silence anymore. 'Did you… Is she dead?'
'No…'
Neo nodded, relieved.
'Neo,' Trinity tugged gently at his sleeve, 'Bethy the Vampire Slayer seem to be one of your fans.'
'Really?' Neo grinned stupidly.
'Really.' They kissed.
Smith returned to his seat at the computer. 'I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, review and I won't do to you what I did to the author.' A chilling smile (a very good imitation of a smile that a psycho mad axe murderer might have before he hacked his victims) plastered on his face.
'Oh yes, have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.'