Disclaimer: My therapist says I should be over the fact that I don't own The Matrix by 2164. I say she's an optimist.
A/N: This is the first piece of Matrix fanfiction I've had the guts to post, so I'd really appreciate feedback. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Suggestions are welcomed. Praise is nice for my ego (just thought I'd throw that in…). Flames will be used to toast Fluffy Puff Marshmallows.
Answers
By Jaded Starlight
Introduction:
It's Too Short to Be Chapter One
He sighed, starring through dark glasses out the window of the federally controlled building. Gathering his thoughts, he removed his sunglasses and folded them neatly before sliding them into the pocket of his suit jacket. Turning around, he began to speak in his trademark tone, slow and mechanical yet always imperious.
"Why make this so hard on yourself, Mr. Harrison?"
The man was on the brink of consciousness, his eyes rolling back in his head and his body trembling in frequent spasms.
The professional-looking man approached an odd-looking machine on a cart, to which Mr. Harrison was hooked up to via sticky pads and white wires. It offered some kind of reading to the other man. He paused thoughtfully and pressed a yellow button. Surges of electricity began to flow through the plastic-covered wires and shot through Harrison's body causing him to scream and writhe in agony. Once the current had passed, his nose began to bleed. Managing to lift his head, he spoke. "What do you want to know?" he asked as blood spilled out his mouth.
The suit-clad man seemed to smile, not authentic by any means. He took a seat across from the tortured captive with a satisfied smirk. "Very good, Mr. Harrison. It was wise of you to comply. Now, Mr. Harrison, tell me, what exactly were you and your former crew doing in the Matrix?"
"We were told to find a girl. That's all I know." He choked.
"Who is this girl?"
"They didn't say."
"Who didn't say, Mr. Harrison?"
"…the council… Zion…" He replied, coughing up a thick pool of blood. Between the excretion of the substance from his nose and mouth, half his face was covered in a thick layer of it, more dripping down his neck and soaking the collar of his dirty and tattered white shirt.
"So Zion sent you on a mission to find a girl they didn't specify?"
He struggled to nod.
At that moment, two others clad in the same attire as the interrogator entered the room, questioning progress.
"He's useless." was the reply.
The shorter of the two men new to the room raised his gun and fired, putting Mr. Harrison out of his misery and out of theirs.
"Do we know the identity of whom he spoke of?" The other asked.
The man rose from his chair, replacing his dark glasses. "No."
"It seems strange." The taller mused. "An entire crew on such a non-specific mission."
"Brown, Jones, take him away."
They nodded in unison. "Right away, Smith." As they began to peel the sticky pads off the dead man's body while Smith called for a cleanup unit.
A/N: This is the first piece of Matrix fanfiction I've had the guts to post, so I'd really appreciate feedback. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Suggestions are welcomed. Praise is nice for my ego (just thought I'd throw that in…). Flames will be used to toast Fluffy Puff Marshmallows.
He sighed, starring through dark glasses out the window of the federally controlled building. Gathering his thoughts, he removed his sunglasses and folded them neatly before sliding them into the pocket of his suit jacket. Turning around, he began to speak in his trademark tone, slow and mechanical yet always imperious.
"Why make this so hard on yourself, Mr. Harrison?"
The man was on the brink of consciousness, his eyes rolling back in his head and his body trembling in frequent spasms.
The professional-looking man approached an odd-looking machine on a cart, to which Mr. Harrison was hooked up to via sticky pads and white wires. It offered some kind of reading to the other man. He paused thoughtfully and pressed a yellow button. Surges of electricity began to flow through the plastic-covered wires and shot through Harrison's body causing him to scream and writhe in agony. Once the current had passed, his nose began to bleed. Managing to lift his head, he spoke. "What do you want to know?" he asked as blood spilled out his mouth.
The suit-clad man seemed to smile, not authentic by any means. He took a seat across from the tortured captive with a satisfied smirk. "Very good, Mr. Harrison. It was wise of you to comply. Now, Mr. Harrison, tell me, what exactly were you and your former crew doing in the Matrix?"
"We were told to find a girl. That's all I know." He choked.
"Who is this girl?"
"They didn't say."
"Who didn't say, Mr. Harrison?"
"…the council… Zion…" He replied, coughing up a thick pool of blood. Between the excretion of the substance from his nose and mouth, half his face was covered in a thick layer of it, more dripping down his neck and soaking the collar of his dirty and tattered white shirt.
"So Zion sent you on a mission to find a girl they didn't specify?"
He struggled to nod.
At that moment, two others clad in the same attire as the interrogator entered the room, questioning progress.
"He's useless." was the reply.
The shorter of the two men new to the room raised his gun and fired, putting Mr. Harrison out of his misery and out of theirs.
"Do we know the identity of whom he spoke of?" The other asked.
The man rose from his chair, replacing his dark glasses. "No."
"It seems strange." The taller mused. "An entire crew on such a non-specific mission."
"Brown, Jones, take him away."
They nodded in unison. "Right away, Smith." As they began to peel the sticky pads off the dead man's body while Smith called for a cleanup unit.