Rebo
Hey all,
This is a first Matrix fiction. I've written a few other stuffs, but nothing here or like this. Feel free to flame or feedback or whatnot. Thinking about adding more after this. Have some cool ideas (I think...). Here goes...
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Rapid, splashing footsteps echoed along the alleyway. Dank, tepid puddles rippled as the girl's feet repeatedly pounded the pavement. Night was falling, and the failing light cast eerie shadows along the expanses of the glass-walled buildings. She didnt notice, of course. Her breath came in ragged, gasping pulls. Each one felt like swallowing nails. It felt like she had been running for days. Another one of those...things..in the suits. They always chased her. She had thus far managed to get away, but only barely. Odd things had saved her before. Car accidents, storms, and a power outage once. Now, though, she was running out of options, fast.
She rounded a corner into another backalley and slid to an abrupt halt. The alley ended fifteen yards in front of her. She took two staggered steps forward and collapsed to her knees, trying to sob, but unable, she could barely breathe. She managed to glance over her shoulder, looking to the corner and the pounding footsteps that grew ever louder.
Wordlessly, the agent rounded the corner and stopped. He was everything she feared. Clad in that simple suit and obnoxiously thin glasses that just covered his eyes. He moved with a type of grace that didnt belong on normal people. She couldnt place it, of course, but she knew something with him was just wrong. He reached up slowly and pressed a finger to his ear, and painstakingly slowly into his jacket and drew his standard-machine-issue fifty caliber pistol. He thumbed the hammer back and leveled it unwaveringly at her.
"Deletion." He grinned. It was wolfish at the least.
She knew it. She was about to die. In a back alley, to a nameless killer for reasons she couldnt grasp. She tried to cry, tried to get up and run, tried to be brave. All she could manage was a scream. It tore from her like an angry banshee. It started as a loud, piercing howl of desperation that quick transcended into painful. He eminated from her and out into the alley. The force grew to magnanimous proportions, rippling the glass in the alley like ocean waves. That didnt last. Steel and glass exploded like so many bombs, sending a storm of deadly hail out into the two inhabitants.
The agent was shredded. He was lacerated so many times that even his suit was barely recognizable afterwards. The girl, though, was slightly more fortunate. Slightly. She looked somewhat as though she had gotten in a fight with a pack of lions, and lost. Bleeding scars ran across her face, hands, arms, and torso. Now she really couldnt breathe. The deafening roar of shattered glass along the first three floors off to her sides, the searing pain lancing through her body, and the turn of events that had saved her life, for the moment. It was too much. She held a bloody hand up just in front of her face, and promptly fainted.
"Well, that will never do." The man was leaning against what was left of a support beam on the second floor of a gutted building. He looked down on the spectacle and adjusted his glasses. He took a step and fell the ten yards to the ground. Slow, deliberate, almost agent-like steps brought him to the fallen girl. He shook his head, but a grin played on his features.
"They always look so innocent," he chuckled. Chuckled, really, after what had just happened. He crossed his arms over his chest, listening absently to the leather of his sleeveless longcoat creak. "Ah well, there's time for everything. There's always time." He turned on a heel and began stalking, if that was the word, away. "Bring her along, we havent got much time." His voice was deep, almost monotone, and decidedly commanding. Several forms dropped out of the two buildings to gather up the girl and shake their heads at the body the agent inhabited. It was going to be a long night.
----
Thanks all!
This is a first Matrix fiction. I've written a few other stuffs, but nothing here or like this. Feel free to flame or feedback or whatnot. Thinking about adding more after this. Have some cool ideas (I think...). Here goes...
-----
Rapid, splashing footsteps echoed along the alleyway. Dank, tepid puddles rippled as the girl's feet repeatedly pounded the pavement. Night was falling, and the failing light cast eerie shadows along the expanses of the glass-walled buildings. She didnt notice, of course. Her breath came in ragged, gasping pulls. Each one felt like swallowing nails. It felt like she had been running for days. Another one of those...things..in the suits. They always chased her. She had thus far managed to get away, but only barely. Odd things had saved her before. Car accidents, storms, and a power outage once. Now, though, she was running out of options, fast.
She rounded a corner into another backalley and slid to an abrupt halt. The alley ended fifteen yards in front of her. She took two staggered steps forward and collapsed to her knees, trying to sob, but unable, she could barely breathe. She managed to glance over her shoulder, looking to the corner and the pounding footsteps that grew ever louder.
Wordlessly, the agent rounded the corner and stopped. He was everything she feared. Clad in that simple suit and obnoxiously thin glasses that just covered his eyes. He moved with a type of grace that didnt belong on normal people. She couldnt place it, of course, but she knew something with him was just wrong. He reached up slowly and pressed a finger to his ear, and painstakingly slowly into his jacket and drew his standard-machine-issue fifty caliber pistol. He thumbed the hammer back and leveled it unwaveringly at her.
"Deletion." He grinned. It was wolfish at the least.
She knew it. She was about to die. In a back alley, to a nameless killer for reasons she couldnt grasp. She tried to cry, tried to get up and run, tried to be brave. All she could manage was a scream. It tore from her like an angry banshee. It started as a loud, piercing howl of desperation that quick transcended into painful. He eminated from her and out into the alley. The force grew to magnanimous proportions, rippling the glass in the alley like ocean waves. That didnt last. Steel and glass exploded like so many bombs, sending a storm of deadly hail out into the two inhabitants.
The agent was shredded. He was lacerated so many times that even his suit was barely recognizable afterwards. The girl, though, was slightly more fortunate. Slightly. She looked somewhat as though she had gotten in a fight with a pack of lions, and lost. Bleeding scars ran across her face, hands, arms, and torso. Now she really couldnt breathe. The deafening roar of shattered glass along the first three floors off to her sides, the searing pain lancing through her body, and the turn of events that had saved her life, for the moment. It was too much. She held a bloody hand up just in front of her face, and promptly fainted.
"Well, that will never do." The man was leaning against what was left of a support beam on the second floor of a gutted building. He looked down on the spectacle and adjusted his glasses. He took a step and fell the ten yards to the ground. Slow, deliberate, almost agent-like steps brought him to the fallen girl. He shook his head, but a grin played on his features.
"They always look so innocent," he chuckled. Chuckled, really, after what had just happened. He crossed his arms over his chest, listening absently to the leather of his sleeveless longcoat creak. "Ah well, there's time for everything. There's always time." He turned on a heel and began stalking, if that was the word, away. "Bring her along, we havent got much time." His voice was deep, almost monotone, and decidedly commanding. Several forms dropped out of the two buildings to gather up the girl and shake their heads at the body the agent inhabited. It was going to be a long night.
----
Thanks all!