Asylum Chapter 10: Open The Door, a matrix fanfic

"I can only show you the door, it must be you who must open it." Neo whispered.

He looked up as Smith walked in front of him, and began to speak again.

"When I was little, I always was afraid that there was a monster in my closet. I'd always look for it in the day, but I thought it was sort of like a shadow, and would just disappear you know? That's when I began to be afraid of my own shadow, I thought it was the monster in disguise!" Neo mumbled at Smith.

"Mr. Anderson…" Smith began. "You don't remember your childhood."

Neo frowned and stopped for a moment.

"I know, but I like to imagine it." Neo explained.

Smith gave a puzzled look raising an eyebrow.

"I like thinking about it. It calms me down. And talking about it, that calms me down too." Neo said.

"So that means you're nervous?"

Neo looked ashamed as he slowly nodded. Smith walked along, pulling Neo with him.

"Everything will be okay, Mr. Anderson." Smith said.

The hallways were long and dark, and Neo can't really see the end of them, but he isn't afraid, even though he knows this is probably a very scary situation. Neo had often been thinking about himself, who he was and all. He enjoyed the idea of himself as a child, and wondered what he looked like back then. He made up his childhood actually, how many people can say that? Neo assumed his child self, say seven years old would be terrified right about now.

But Smith was leading the way anyway, if the monster was ahead of them, Smith would be eaten. Not that Neo really wanted that. Smith could take care of himself anyway.

"Do you ever imagine it, Smith? Your childhood?" Neo asked, trying to shake this little nervousness of his.

"No." Smith said lightly.

It still seemed like Smith was angry with him, but in truth Smith had almost forgotten all about it. All this sadness and despair, no it didn't' matter now. They had a key. A piece of metal that shall unlock them from this horrible, horrible place. This prison, an entrapment for the mind. They would leave this place now; figure it out away from here. Find people they knew…Jones and Brown…

"You don't? Why not?" Neo asked.

"I don't believe it really matters." Smith said.

"Of course it does!"

"Sh!"

"Sorry…of course it does, Smith. It was us, it's part of who we are."

"If it is so important, why is it so easily forgotten?"

Neo frowned, but didn't want Smith to be anymore upset than he probably was. Neo bit his tongue, and went along with Smith down these hallways.

Was this it? The final time they were ever going walk down these halls? It had to be, they had the key. The key that would end this all. Yes, they'll leave this place and go to the city and see the rest of the world. They will be free to explore themselves, and find the help they need. No longer will they ever have to stand these white places ever again. No they'll be free. They just have to get pass the night guards and all these video cameras. That's all they'll have to do. Go to the doors that only the sane may pass, and go through them, and run away from this horrible place.

There's a camera that moves back and forth at the end of each hallway, this is easily escaped as Smith and Neo run for it, right underneath the camera where its robotic eye cannot see them. And they quickly run out of its view when its back is turned.

"I bet we were friends as children." Neo says. "Like my parents knew yours or something."

"Maybe not, because it does seem that I am older than you. It's often needed in order to be friends children must be the same age."

Neo had a look of pure shock on his face.

"How old am I?" Neo asked.

"I don't know…. Come, we're almost there."

"But…how old am I…?"

Smith grabbed Neo by the wrist and started dragging him along the way. He looked down a second hallway to see if there were any guards, and ran across the other side. The door was in reach, the door where only the sane may pass, there it was, so close, waiting just for them. Smith smiled. He smiled, really smiled, nearly pushing Neo into the door, for he was the one with the key.

"Hurry." Smith said, containing excitement.

Neo grabbed the key from his hands and smiled at it, before putting it in.

But it wouldn't budge.

Neo's mouth immediately dropped open, and his knees almost buckled, and he stood there motionless, as the key would not fit.

"No…" Neo whispered.

"What?" Smith asked. "What!"

"It…it won't fit!" Neo cried.

"What! No, you're wrong it has to fit!"

Smith pushed Neo aside into the wall, and ran at the door grabbing the key and jamming it into the keyhole. He wouldn't accept it, it had to fit, it was fitting! This key was going to unlock this door, and let them out! He pushed the key has hard as he could, and twisted it as hard as he could. Then he stepped back away from the door, realizing no, it wasn't going to unlock.

And Smith punched as hard as he could at the door.

Neo had slid down to the floor from the side of the wall, his knees too weak to keep him up.

The key doesn't fit, the door will not open.

Smith bangs his head against the doors and closes his eyes.

"They…must have separate keys…" Neo whispered.

"No. This has to work, this must…this has to work! This must work! This must work! It works! I know it does!" Smith said. "I will not accept this."

"But…"

"We were so close! We're right here!" Smith screamed, pushing his head against the doors.

Smith with all his might punched the door again, and he leaned on the door, pressing his face into his hands. He made pathetic little gasps for air, little weeps that made it sure, he was trying not to cry. And Neo laid on the ground, shock and terror all over his face. His eyes shook, and his lips trembled, and the tears slowly rolled down his face.

Smith punched the wall again, and again, and again, and again.

"Smith…" Neo started.

And again, and again, and again…

"Smith!" Neo grabbed Smith's leg. "Stop it! They'll hear us!"

Smith froze, and slowly like Neo, fell to the ground.

"But we're right here…this isn't right…this can't be right…" Smith could only shake his head.

Smith held the key in his hand and looked at it.

"Perhaps…it isn't our time to leave yet…" Neo tried, with a weak smile, still with tears rolling down his face.

"No, this just isn't right, this isn't how it should be." Smith said, gripping the key.

"We should go…Smith, we should go, before the guards find us." Neo laid his head on Smith shoulder.

Smith shook his head.

"No, no, no…I won't go back. I won't go back empty handed…"

Shaking his head, again, and again, and again.

"I won't, Mr. Anderson, I won't…I won't go back there, not again! Not until I find something!" Smith yelled.

"Smith…you should be quiet." Neo whispered in a soft voice. He pressed his head harder on Smith's shoulder. "I'm going back to the room, okay? You have to come to…"

"No! You…you, you, you…you go back to the room! To the cell! I…I will look around…I…I…need to…I…I'll go back before they find me…"

"No!" Neo raised his head. "No! We can't be separated!"

"Neo let me do this!"

"But…we're not supposed to be separated." Neo said in a rather hushed voice. "You…said that yourself, we couldn't be! Something bad will happen!"

"Not this time! Not this one time! Let me do this…please…"

What could Neo do, but nod?

--------------

Smith opened a door.

Smith kept the key, he thought he would find some kind of use for it, he held it, rubbing it in one hand as he walked down a hallway he was never allowed to go down. The criminally insane. Apparently the key fits in every door inside the Asylum accept the one that leads out, of course, a Master key that excludes the sane part of this place.

Down these halls, down the halls that should be painted in blood…

He imagines what these people have done to end up in this horrible place. How many people have died at the hands of these people? How much blood was shed and now stains this world? How many single mothers have a child born from rape? People tortured from the mad and confused? What were these criminals thinking when they did these crimes? Did they enjoy it? Did they mean it? Did they understand what they were doing?

Were they trying to be free?

He stands there at the entrance for a moment, just waiting in the silence of it all. It isn't long before he can hear moans of a variety of madmen. Their cries echo through the hallways. It almost sounded like they were singing to each other. Cries, and moans of anger, hatred, or agony, all singing to each other.

It was quite lovely.

Smith began walking down these hallways, keeping his hand to the left wall. He didn't know what he was looking for, something to make this little sneaking out trip worth anything. Anything at all, he would take, anything. He didn't know if what he wanted was down this hallway, but he felt like he just wanted to go down this one. This one where he's never been allowed to go.

Where the truly mad lie.

To the right of him were cells much like his, white rooms with doors and little windows. Some were just barred doors, but the men inside seemed calm and saner than the rest. Smith wondered where the guards were, but decided not to care, and just look around. He could see through the window doors the criminally mad who slept or cried. Some were in the corner, some slept soundly, and others where bouncing themselves off padded walls. They didn't have anyone to fight against as they were doing this; they were just trying to hurt themselves, which Smith found to be incredibly odd.

He went on, deeper and deeper until the cries became louder, and the banging of bodies against the doors became drumbeats.

"You."

Smith turned his head.

"You. You with the demon as your friend. Monsieur Smith, a pleasure to meet you."

There was a man standing on his door, his window on the door was larger than the others, and opened barred. He rested his forehead on one of the bars, and his hand was reaching out from it. He had a thick French accent and was smiling at Smith. The Frenchman slipped his hands and arms through the bars, resting his head on them once again. He held in his right hand a plastic glass of rather cheap wine. It was nearly gone, and from the glaze in this man's eyes, Smith could tell he was drunk.

"I did not expect you to come so soon, nor at the dead of night."

Smith only stared at the man. Smith's natural curiosity settled in, as he tilted his head at the Frenchman.

"Ah, of course, excuse me, where are my manners? I am Armel."

Armel, the Frenchman, the King stuck out his hand further towards Smith, and Smith finally shook it.

"Demon?" Smith inquired.

"Yes, Monsieur Anderson, can you not see it?" Armel asked.

Smith shook his head, and Armel looked around him to see if anyone was in hearing distance. He stepped onto his toes, and whispered loudly to Smith.

"He has a demon inside him, Monsieur Smith, I suggest you leave his company before he infects you with it. That's what they do. The demons I mean, they go around, infecting everyone." Armel explained in his accent. "He has one inside him. I would try to help and tell you how you could remove it, but he was born with it, I can tell. You can't get it out."

Smith nodded.

"Don't let it get you, Monsieur Smith, that boy is going to turn on you, he'll let the demon have you, it will eat your soul." Armel continued.

Armel smiled a smug smile at Smith. The Frenchman seemed so calm by the whole thing; he began trailing his fingers up and down the bars on his door window as he stared at Smith. He sort of circled his wine glass in his hand, looking at it with that happy glaze.

"There are many demons in this place, they're trying to get me. But I have protectors…Angels. You must have an Angel Monsieur Smith, in order to obtain that key I see in your hand."

Smith held the key tighter.

"Yes, it was Mr. Anderson who found the key." Smith said.

Armel's mouth slightly opened.

"Then it is tainted, you should go no further Monsieur Smith."

Smith held the key tighter in his hand, and looked up at the Frenchman, understanding why he was here. The man was completely mad, this talk of Angels and Demons, mere characters, inventions in an overcomplicated story of life and death. There were no such things, why this Frenchman saw a demon inside Neo was beyond Smith. It was pure madness, nothing more, illogical, there was no explanation.

The drinking perhaps only served as further evidence. Drinking, intoxicating the mind itself, dulling it to a stand still. Drinking to help forget something, someone, drinking for the aroma. Smith wondered if the alcohol affected the drugs he was taking to further harm him rather than help heal, these doctors, they have no idea what they're doing Smith concluded.

"It is I who sent Enoch and Enosh to you, such holy names, that is why I keep them around. The Angels like those named after their younger children." Armel smiled.

"You sent them?" Smith snapped his head.

"Yes…it is I who have offered purpose to you. Of course there is no cause without effect. I give you something, Monsieur Smith, purpose, and you give me something in return. A cause, for an effect." Armel raised his head.

"What would I have to give you?" Smith asked.

"That key would be a lovely start. Oh yes, I would owe you a great deal for that."

Smith held the key away from Armel, and backed up into the wall. Armel in return backed away as well from the door; downing what little wine he had left in his glass. He dropped it to the floor, and it bounced for a moment, and Armel smiled.

"Ah I see…" Armel said. "You do not believe that I am trustworthy, my talk of these holy and unholy things…Many do not believe me, but they all return to me anyway. Monsieur, I can see you are a respectable man, worthy of an Angelic guardian. An old soul…" Armel nodded. "If you go on Monsieur, do remember, the ravings of the mad are the secrets of God."

---------------

Neo opened a door.

Neo was having a more difficult time with the guards. Just as he was finally getting to his hall a guard came out of one of the rooms, and Neo ran for it, down out of his hallway and running into another's. He stood at the doorway for a moment, waiting for the guard to come out so that he may be able to go back to his cell. But the guard didn't come out for fifteen minutes, and to this impatient and anxious Neo was long enough for him to try and find another route.

Neo too began to hear the cries of his fellow mad. But these were different than the ones Smith would experience. No, Neo could hear these without any noise. People…things spoken but not said. Yes, Neo could hear screaming, but no one was screaming. He could hear crying when no one was crying. He could hear things that weren't really there. Crying on the inside, he heard clear as day.

He was never going to be sure if he was imagining these sounds, or in fact he was hearing something perhaps inside them.

He was rubbing his arms in anxiety, it was unsafe out there, he could get in a lot of trouble, and then what? They might not let him out of his room at all! He wouldn't be able to go outside, or see Michelle! No, he had to get back to his room, a quick in and out, that's all this should have ever been. No, he should be away from her! He should be in the city by now if things went the way they should have. Neo bit his lip as he looked down the hallway, listening to these cries.

They all were in so much pain…

"Neo…"

The man jumped at the sound of the soft voice through the screams. He looked to his right, and there sat a girl; she couldn't have been older than eighteen. The cells here were different, possible for the saner of the insane. These had open barred doors, like that have a prison, and a seemingly comfier bed. And in one of these cells, sat a lonely little Asian girl, sitting on the ground, her back to the wall. She looked up at Neo with these big brown eyes, the color that matched Neo's own eyes. She crawled towards the bars, and pulled herself up grabbing the bars. Even standing up, she was just a small and fragile little thing, Neo began to realize how much taller he was than most people.

She looked up at him with those sad brown eyes, so unlike and like his. And she shook her head, and seemed to have asked him something, but Neo didn't really hear it.

"Yeah?" Neo finally coughed out.

"It's Neo, right?" The little girl asked.

Neo nodded, and smiled, this made her smile, which made him happy.

"What are you doing out here?" The little girl asked in the softest voice Neo had ever heard.

Neo frowned and looked up and down the halls.

"I wanted to look around…" Neo explained.

The girl smiled and nodded her head, resting it against the bars.

"I saw your painting…I liked the fire…you got the…um…colors perfectly, and they…blended together really nicely…the red, yes I liked the red the best." The little girl went on.

Neo frowned a bit, he still didn't like that thing, that horrible painting he put out into the world, so all may be able to see the horrible things only he should see.

"Well…I'm glad you liked it, it's okay I guess." Neo said, forcing a smile.

"I like…the green things too…at the top… I've…seen things similar. Some…look Japanese, and I would know…. but…some are different…. but I've seen them too, Neo. I've seen them, and you've seen them, we both couldn't have just made it up could we? No, not like what the doctors tell me, it wasn't a dream, was it Neo? No I saw it, I know I did. And you've seen it right Neo?"

Neo bits his lip; her voice was trembling, so soft and quiet. As if she had been taught to never yell, or never had an opportunity to speak that often. Her voice sounded afraid, unused, ignored, and it was such a lovely voice too.

"But I've only seen those things in my dreams…" Neo explained.

"Oh…" She frowned, and looked like she was about to cry.

"But…but, I don't remember a lot…and my dreams…they're my memories. I did…I did see those things."

The girl smiled brightly, and would have hugged Neo if not for the bars separating them.

"My name is Miho." The not so little girl said, reaching her hand out to Neo.

Neo grabbed it and shook it, but frowned at what he saw as she reached his hand to him. Cuts, long, deep cuts all around her wrists and hand. Cuts, and scars, and even a few burnt marks.

And when the not so little girl stepped back and looked at Neo, smiling at him, he knew what she was saying, he heard it in fact, like he heard all the others screaming. She was saying, "Help me."

And Neo would.

-----------------

These screams, this agony, all this pain it gets louder the deeper you go. The more and more these madmen slam themselves against the walls and the doors. The louder they scream, the faster the drumbeat goes. The clearer and clearer their madness becomes. Men in straight jackets scream, pushing themselves on the door as they see Smith pass bye. Men chant complete nonsense as he passes them by.

Smith thinks to himself, this, this is true madness; this is where rational thought is no more. This is insanity. He is not this, he is not insane, he is sane, he possesses sanity. He isn't like them, no not like them at all.

Smith isn't like anyone.

He likes watching them, expressing their madness. He likes seeing how different, how sane, and rational he is to them. He listens to them, watching them, going deeper and deeper into this criminally insane hallway.

"I didn't mean to hurt him! I didn't mean to hurt him! The knife was just on the ground, then it wasn't! I didn't kill him! He's still alive, my son is still alive!"

"Blood! The blood! The blood is the life!"

"I hate you! I hate you! You never told me why you did this to me! You never said why! Why did you do it! Why do you do it! Do you know what you've done to me! I hate you!"

These cries, so full of hate, agony, pain, torture, all so familiar….

But then Smith comes to a room, a cell, a little personal prison, where the man is not screaming, is not crying in pain, or throwing himself against the walls. No, this man is only sitting there, on his bed, with his hands to his head as if he were praying. Smith tilts his head at the man. Why? Why unlike all the others here are you not screaming? Why? What has happened to you to make you not scream like all the others? Are you not in any pain being her? Why?

The man does not move for an estimated ten minutes, and Smith decides the man is safe and sane enough to allow him to enter. Besides, Smith knows kung fu, and is quite strong for a man of his stature and age, he is sure he is able to fend for himself.

Smith puts the Master Key into the man's lock, click goes the lock. And as Smith enters, the man jumps down to the ground crawling to the corner in pure fear. Smith with a blank and emotionless face tilts his head at the man, motioning with his hands that he doesn't want to hurt him. The door closes, and Smith hides the key in his sleeve.

Smith can see the man's name printed on his clothing, marking him, labeling him. His name is Joshua Daniels, and he is currently curled up in the corner looking up at Smith.

This is one of those silent moments again.

"Who…who are you?" Finally coughs out Joshua.

Smith tilts his head at first.

"Why?"

"Excuse…Excuse me?"

"Why aren't you screaming? Everyone else here screams."

Joshua is a rather pale man, very thin and fine as well, he stands like he is very fragile, perhaps a gust of wind could blow him away. His face was a perfect example of how much the human skull really affects the face. His cheekbones could be seen, and the skin beneath his eyes was so thin and blue from insomnia. His hair was bushy, and he hadn't shave in a while, they don't let him have knives or blades anymore. He sat in the corner across from his not so comfy bed, and stared up at Smith. At first confused by the question, but in the silence hearing the screams of his fellow criminally insane.

"Because…Because I don't need to scream." Joshua came up with.

"Why do they?" Smith inquired.

"Because…they're in pain."

"Why?"

"They've done…horrible things."

"And you aren't in pain? So you haven't done horrible things?"

"No! No…I've done horrible…horrible things…I just…don't hurt as much anymore."

Smith thought about this for a moment, he was still a bit confused on the subject, but inevitably decided he would get no further input from this Joshua Daniels, as he seemed to be quite obviously afraid of him. Smith turned towards the door getting the key out to leave.

"Wait!" Joshua yelled, standing up. "Where…where are you going?"

Smith turned back to him.

"Away." Smith said.

"But…who are you?"

"No one." Smith said.

"No! No, you're like me!"

And this simple statement made Smith's intentionally and nonintentionally expressionless face glimmer with curiosity. Smith step towards Joshua who was now hunched over looking like his fragile self, boney fingers reaching towards Smith.

"You're…you live here…you're not…you're insane like me." Joshua beamed, smiling.

"I do not meet societies' definition of sane, but believe me, Mr. Daniels, I am sane."

Joshua frowned for a moment.

"But you're here!" Joshua through out his boney arms. "I don't care how you got here, how you got out, but you're here! Right? You're here; you're not…something in my head are you? No, no, you couldn't be, you're more real than my other delusions, and you're kinder than they are! You're here, aren't you, you're really here?"

Joshua smiled and step towards Smith again. Smith was obviously confused by his statements, so Joshua took a step back, gesturing with his hands to wait a moment, as he paced back a forth between the wall and his bed.

"I'm…Schizophrenic, see…I have trouble sometimes…telling what is real and what is my own mind making things up. The pills they give me…they've been doing okay with me, but…sometimes I wonder if it's really working. Is that nurse I see really a nurse? Is she really a girl? Is her hair really black, could it be blonde? Are here eyes blue, or are they brown? I'm just…not sure if you are real…" Joshua explained.

"Mr. Daniels you have my word that I am real." Smith said.

"Oh good, wonderful. Like I said, I don't care how you got here, just please, please don't leave now." Joshua pleaded. "I've been alone for so long, no one but the people in my head…I just…need some interaction."

Smith titled his head. He felt compassion. A likeness to this weaker man. Being isolated like this…it was familiar.

"I will stay with you, Mr. Daniels." Smith nodded.

"Oh good!" The man exclaimed. "Let's see…would…would you like something to eat? I have…I have my dinner and lunch, I have some really cold bacon from breakfast, do you want it, I must be a good host."

"Your food? You don't eat it?"

"No, no…I'm um…I'm fasting right now."

"You are a man of religion?"

"Oh, god no…I stopped believing in that stuff a long time ago…destiny, fate, god, it just…didn't feel right. Fasting though, it helps keep my mind sharp, helps me stay in control."

Joshua led Smith to his bed to sit down, and he got on his knees picking out plates of food on plastic plates from under his bed, handing them to Smith.

"The doctors don't understand, they tell me to eat, so just hide the food, and throw it out the window sometimes." Joshua explained.

"The doctors could never understand."

Joshua looked up at Smith and smiled, handing him one last plate of food. He got up sitting next to him. Smith did not want to be rude, looking down at the food that had been offered him. He doesn't eat. Smith doesn't eat a lot. He didn't want to eat then, he wasn't hungry. But he took a red apple and started munching on it.

"So um…Jonathon?" Joshua asked.

"Smith."

"Oh…okay, Smith…why are you here? If it's not too personal question."

"…They say I am delusional with sometimes random aggressive behavior, and a severe case of amnesia. But of course these things are wrong. Delusions are not delusions, aggressive behavior is not so, it is an equal decision that is planned out."

"Amnesia?"

"Is true."

"What do you mean, aggressive behavior?"

Smith swallowed his apple.

"I share cells with an equal. We seem to be masters of fighting techniques, and when we wish to…blow some steam as he calls it, we fight. Punching, kicking, so on." Smith explained. "The attendants here have not grasped the idea that we are actually relieving ourselves of pain inflicting these fights on one another."

"Wow, that's…that's amazing. You remember like…Kung-fu…?"

Smith nodded.

"My nephew was taking Karate, but that was a while ago, I don't know if he ever got any good at it…"

Joshua smiled and looked to the ground with a rather sad expression even when smiling. Joshua soon looked back up as Smith ate what he could of the apple, and for a time it was silent. Smith knowing this might be awkward began to think of ways to engage conversation.

"And you, Mr. Daniels?" Smith asked.

"Josh."

"Mr. Daniels?"

Joshua smiled at Smith's refusal to call him by his first name, but he soon drifted away in a sense.

"I…I killed…I killed my wife."

And Smith's expression did not change, as if he was numbed to the loss of life. Joshua still tried to keep a trained smile, as he spoke, and his words became shaken.

"They say…they say I was backed into a corner. I needed a way out. I had just been fired from my job…she called it being 'freed,' 'unplugged,' in a sense. Now I could do anything I wanted…but I couldn't do that. I was still bound by what I only knew how to do, not what I wanted. Really I wanted to keep her safe, pay the bills, give her a life of comfort…We had such a lovely house too…"

Joshua's hands begin to shake, and Smith doesn't know it at the time, but so do his as well, and somewhere far off into the rest of the Asylum, where Neo cares to the mind of a young girl, his hands are shaking.

"She said she was going to take a job, but I didn't want her to. She became a nurse you see, it caused her to work really late in the day and she always came home so tired…I didn't want this for her. But no matter how hard I tried…I couldn't…I couldn't…there was nothing left soon…they tell me I just wanted a way out, so…so I made him…they keep telling me I made him…but I would never…I could never…they're wrong I know they are. I didn't make him up…he just found me, when I was weakest he took over me…"

Joshua looks up at Smith, smiling.

"I created another personality, another person within my mind. One more determined than myself, one willing to give up everything I had in order to achieve one goal, power…no matter how little power that was. I suppose she began to notice, I myself didn't, I had large black outs though…but she…I guess…she told him to stop it. Stop yelling at her, stop yelling at everything, stop getting so upset. They say that I told her that she was in my way…we were in the kitchen, or at least she was…setting up for her nursing the next day. I…he…I grabbed a knife…and I…he…no, no, I stabbed her in the chest…and she…she died. And I killed her…It wasn't long before the police came…and they found me with the knife on our counter, her blood on my hands…they tell me I was sitting next to her…just looking at her…shaking all over."

And Smith wondered why he wasn't really affected by any of that. He looked at Joshua Daniels, knowing he had killed someone, taken a life, this is bad, he knew it was bad. But it didn't seem to matter. He was not afraid of the truly sick minded fragile man he sat next to. He did not see the man has evil or sick. No. Joshua Daniels was just a man to Smith, a man who killed, but still just a man.

But he knew that wasn't how he should feel.

-------------------

The sun was coming up when Smith finally returned to his cell. It was difficult, and he would have to keep track of time better next time he told himself, the guards were switching shifts, and workers were starting to come. Neo was lying on his bed, his shoes still on. Smith assumed he was up waiting for him.

Smith lied in his bed, carefully hiding the key between the mattress and the bed frame. He looked up at the ceiling, the white ceiling, and just began thinking.

He was still numb, but now…now he was thinking of something besides this fact. He was thinking, and this made him believe that perhaps thinking would cure him of this numbness.

Joshua asked if he would come back, and prove that he was real, Smith said promised he would as soon as he could. Joshua Daniels, Schizophrenic, he killed his wife. Joshua Daniels reminded Smith of Smith. And this made Smith smile. Alone, numbed, isolated, defective, yes this indeed sounded a bit like him, if not less stable. Smith thought of him as a weaker reflection of himself, but perhaps that was harsh.

"Smith…" Neo whispered, his head still buried in his pillow, and some drool slipping down his mouth.

"…Yes, Mr. Anderson?" Smith whispered back.

"We need to do that again."

"Indeed."

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Next Chapter: Rain

I'm beginning to like Bane and the Merovingian more and more as I think of this story. It helps in a way that my English teacher is a really cute man from France with a heavy accent. I finally asked him if I could call him the Merovingian, he laughed and said sure. He and I had a chat about the sequels, he says the only thing good in Reloaded was the Merovingian, and he wanted ghost like henchmen.

I knew I had to make Armel in this story very insane, out of all of them he would be the maddest, but still be suave in that Merovingian way. I hope I succeeded in doing that. I took bits and pieces from the Merovingian and I suppose just exaggerated them to a maximum. The Angels and the Demons, how he relates to Neo, and of course the cheap, drugged wine.

Bane in the beginning was a given. From the start I knew Bane had to be in it as he is now. I did have some trouble on what Smith and he would say to each other, but I decided to make him a little weak. I am unsure how the real Bane acted in life, but I always thought that he must have been at a weak point in his life at the time Smith came to him, perhaps a stronger person could have rejected Smith, or at least not allowed him access to his body in reality. The whole Maggie Bane romance I absolutely love, I forget who wrote it, but there's a Maggie and Bane love story on this site that I just smile at.

Miho was a little difficult, knowing I needed to somehow connect the stories to the Animatrix or comics. At first I was thinking of Ash, the Detective in Detective's Story, but I didn't want him to suffer the same fate his predecessors did when looking for Trinity. Though it would have given to a nice little love triangle between him, Neo, and Michelle. But then again I just want it to be about Michelle and Neo, Neo and Trinity, it's only Neo and Trinity there was never someone else. I decided that perhaps the kids from Beyond would be suitable, since they were young, and out of them I chose Miho, one of the youngest, and I think cutest.

Oh and by the way, I forgot to add this but Michelle's brother, Colin is supposed to be Ghost, and in fact the actor who played Ghost is named Colin.

Anyway…

I added, "The Blood is the Life" in one of the quotes up there for my dear friend Renfield, another fandom of mine, he is the servant of Dracula, driven mad by his Master. Go rent the original 1931 Dracula; see Dwight Frye play the greatest Renfield ever.

I also bought a REAL straight jacket for Halloween, it arrived just today! It's a perfect fit, and I love it dearly! I'm crossed between writing "Renfield" or "Anderson, Thomas," on it.

Okay, now for the Spirals. Smith painted three spirals. They were simple, black and white paint used. I said they were near the end of the first Matrix. Smith has seen them before. Any guesses? Scroll down for answer, or guess again with now all the clues I'm willing to give you listed.

The Bullet Paths: when Neo dodges the bullets and everything goes slo-mo when Agent Jones is firing at him. Since Agents also dodge bullets, and faster than Neo, I assume that is what they often see after being shot at so much.