Author's note: Hi everyone! Sorry I haven't updated in a while- I have Chemistry and Math exams next week so I've beeen studying heaps, but I still have been writing this story. I also have been drawing pictures of Cybil in my art book- they don't look half bad! I must get to a scanner so I can load some pics on my website. Anywayz... on with the show!

Disclaimer: If I owned the Matrix, I wouldn't be writing here- you do the math!


Le Chateau

Smith has departed.
Gone to do his master's bidding-
Maintaining and pruning this artificial world.
This game-
The Matrix.

She knows;
That he hates the Matrix and all that is in it.
Why then,
Is he an agent?
Stuck in his loathed web.
Maybe what is keeping him here,
Is his love for domination;
Control-
Is his obsession.

Cybil will not be alone for long.
Today,
She will go to 'Le Chateau'.
Domain of the Merovingian.
She knows nothing of this place.
Of its treachery,
Of its danger.
All she knows of the Merovingian-
Is of his power.

Upon her arrival,
She realizes what a grand manor it is.
Such a magnificent architechtual feat!
Majestic, curved arches rise from the polished marble paving.
Perfect, ivory arcs.
Statues of imperial lions carved out of flawless obsidian.
Cleaved jasper eyes fixed in a cold sneer.

Stepping through the grand entrance,
She is greeted by uniformed servants taking her long fur overcoat;
Revealing her exquisite outfit.
It is midnight blue with soft, turquoise feathers at the shoulders.
Grey-yellow eyes shining out of her navy painted eyelids.
The pinnacle of power-dressing.

The room is quite wintry,
And her skin prickles up.
The coldness reflects the room's mood.
Elegant, yet compassionless.
Elegant grey and black marbled pillars and guilded gold doors.
Ancient, exotic weapons hung proudly on the wall;
And a double staircase curving up to the second floor.
Cybil feels so out of place-
So alone.

Two figures appear on the elevatiion.
A man and his woman.
This,
She thinks-
Maybe the Merovingian...

Gracefully picking up a gloved hand,
He kisses the black gauze.
'Ah, mon cherie- you must be Cybil. Agent Smith's Liason?'
'Oui Monsieur.' The edgy woman stutters;
Remembering what little french she learnt in her education.
'This is my wife- Persephone.' He continues,
'Boujour Madam.' his guest replies respectfully.
The woman returns the greeting with a sour, cat-like smile.

Persephone knew.
She knew the real reason why her husband invited her.
Not out of curiousity to meet a hybroid-
That bastard!
She could hear them already-
The sighes and screams they would make in his secret lair.
All the while, the Twins would stand watch.
And she-
Left at the table, finishing third course.
Don't think for a moment-
That she knew nothing of his so called 'cake trick'!


Keep on reading and please review!