Seeing Clearly Through the Haze (Part Two)
Continued from part one over here.
They ran through the dark hallways, stumbling into each other as their feet got tangled in Nebula’s near dead weight. The woman giggled and groaned through her haze as the heroin swam in her veins. Trinity was enveloped in her own cloud of darkness as her mind tried to process what they told her. Training her gun on shadows, she moved evenly in front of them, trying to protect them from something she couldn’t see.
But it was there. Lurking. Waiting.
Raze tripped, sending the trio tumbling into the ground which was infested with rat droppings and rancid puddles of water. Their hands made a squishing noise and left indents in the carpeting that was eaten away by time in some places. Llaughing, Nebula placed a wet hand over her mouth to cover the outburst. Trinity looked back only momentarily before her eyes continued to sweep the surroundings.
Come on, hurry up.
His eyes followed them through the narrow hallway. There was no place to hide yet he remained completely elusive.
She had to know what they meant, that she was...transmitting. Transmitting what? Her carrier signal? No, too obvious. Somewhere in Zero One there was a beeping of her heart monitor as she traversed the Matrix, and so, she would have a carrier signal. But if it wasn’t that, what else could it be?
“Wait stop, stop.” Opticon leaned a semi-conscious Nebula against the yellowing wall whose wallpaper curled out with age. “Dammit Neb, you’re not exactly light in this state. Lay off the Cheetos.”
A flush of surprise spread on Opticon’s face as a wave of nausea clawed through his stomach, which now had a hand punched through it. The Bishop’s hand was sticky as the blood dripped down his fist and mixed with the soggy carpet. Then, he was gone.
Trinity didn’t even have the time to shoot. Opticon fell to the ground gasping for air as he bled out.
“Opticon!’ The Bishop’s attack was enough to scare her back to into her shell. Opticon’s leg twitched as the nerves went into shock. He was going to die. “Leave him, he’s a dead man,” confirmed Raze. Where the fist came through the flesh, a black oil-like substance started to spread throughout his body. Trinity watched as it crept into the wound and turned the flesh black. It also crawled through his eyes and covered them in a black murky oil slick. Convulsing, an electronic scream erupted from his mouth as his residual image was infected by it.
“What’s happening to him?” Seemed like she was full of questions tonight. A thick scowl chiseled itself on her pale lips. Raze shook his head. “Fuck if I know, but I ain’t waitin’ to find out!” Nebula straightened up, her eyes piercing through Raze. “If he is still alive we can’t leave him here. We don’t leave our own behind,” she said resembling more the captain she used to be through her drug induced haze. Trinity watched as Opticon writhed in pain on the ground. He should have been dead by now. He should have...suddenly, his code swam in front of her eyes, part of an ability that she had ‘acquired’ through the machines, but never worked unless she consciously used it. This time it seemed they were imposing it on her.
Swallowing hard, her face went white like milk.
Shit.
Brushing passed the “cybergoths”, she fired two shots into Opticon’s head, leaving neat bullet holes which lightly steamed as the metal seared the flesh and bone. The oil started to flush a light gray as it flowed out of the orifices of the body and started to slid back into the darkness. Grey code buzzed in the puddle as it surrounded a black figure that was lightly illuminated by the glow coming from it. “Go! NOW!”
Trinity fired at the figure in the dark and hit it once. It grimaced but made no other noise. It didn’t even move. Still, apparently it was vulnerable during this transference. The murky oil slick of code pooled at his feet and was absorbed through it like a tree’s roots absorb water. It wasn’t until cold gunmetal steel gray eyes fixated on her that she realized that he had them closed before. A soft pinging sound bounced off the ground. It only took her a moment to gather that he had somehow expelled the bullet from his body. Her brow furrowed in between the bridge of her sunglasses as the semi-automatic rapidly fired into the blackness. Then it closed its eyes. There are many shades of black and Trinity watched horrified as one swiftly seemed to fly around the room in a blurry streak of shiny blackness, like Hematite. Each shot did nothing to slow it down, not even when she actually hit it. Then it was gone.
Turning around, she was satisfied to see that the others had followed her orders. Just as she was about to move forward herself, the black oil streaked in front of her. She only briefly glimpsed the face of a man before powerful hands pushed her back. The force of his hands against her shoulders tore her off her feet as she flew across the room and landed with a thud against the wall, and another thud when she hit the floor. Her body left a Trinity-sized indent in the wall. Somewhere between the wall and hitting the floor, she realized that this thing was stronger than an Agent and viral. Again, she fired, The Bishop turned back into a black puddle of code and merged with the blackness of the room. Her eyes grew wide as the mess flowed quickly toward her. Pushing herself up, she aimed at the molten flow but The Bishop suddenly reconstituted himself upwards at her feet. Stars exploded in her head as his fist hit her squarely in the face. The Beretta was jerked out of her hand as her face was blow backward before the rest of her body. Plowing through a brick wall with her head, the blood and soot coating her face was the only thing preventing her from seeing the moon as she dropped down one story into the spine of a dusty red Buick. The car groaned as it buckled under the velocity of her fall and the surroundings rippled lightly like waves in a concrete sea.
Raspy breaths caused crimson blood to bubble out of her mouth like a small fountain. Somewhere in Zero One something was getting really nervous. Machines mopped up blood from her mouth. Real blood. Runners scuttled back and forth with instruments and syringes and gave them to medical machines as they passed Nebula’s sleeping, but unharmed body. Trinity lurched in her goo-less pod as her eyes rolled up behind her eyelids. A man, ashen faced and tall, stood behind her open glass pod. His hand traveled to the thick plug behind her head and took it firmly in his hands. Looking across the room, he looked at another man with a headphone in his ear. The man slowly shook his head. No. Not yet anyway.
Back in the Matrix, white noise rushed through her ears as the blood caked her face. Coughing lightly, she reached down into her utility belt and brought out her phone. Shoving her thumb in between the mouth, she was able to flick it open.
Can’t breath. The blood was choking her. Trinity couldn’t help yelling out as she tried to flip herself over, falling off the indented roof and onto the ground. It felt like someone had taken her spine and twisted it like a clown does a birthday balloon. The top of her head was sticky and wet, and as she lay on the ground the blood dripped down her cheeks and pooled on the ground with the blood from her mouth. Still, at least now she could better breath. Closing her eyes, her thumbs pressed the automatic dial buttons on her phone. Who or what number it was, she had no idea.
Some people say ‘help’ over the phone. Through the gurgling in her throat, Trinity managed to horsely croak out, “Bishop...viral.....anomaly.” She thought she heard clicking sounds over the phone and so she kept the line open, not intentionally really as she hadn’t the strength to reach the receiver in front of her face after she placed it on the ground. Would Agents come? Would the system respond? Would whoever she called, call for help? Red and purple dots danced in her line of sight as she admired the inside of her eyelids. The static in her head started to clear.
Corner of Jackson Street and Center Street, Trinity. Jackson and Center.
Was someone there? No, the voice was in her head. “Help,” she finally whispered roughly, unaware that The Bishop peered down at her from the top of the mangled car roof. Jumping down, her phone crumbled like an aluminum can in a trash compactor under his foot.
In a grimy metallic room of Zero One, the man watching the Matrix code running across a battered up monitor, gripped the plug in the back of Trinity’s head tighter.
Pull...
They ran through the dark hallways, stumbling into each other as their feet got tangled in Nebula’s near dead weight. The woman giggled and groaned through her haze as the heroin swam in her veins. Trinity was enveloped in her own cloud of darkness as her mind tried to process what they told her. Training her gun on shadows, she moved evenly in front of them, trying to protect them from something she couldn’t see.
But it was there. Lurking. Waiting.
Raze tripped, sending the trio tumbling into the ground which was infested with rat droppings and rancid puddles of water. Their hands made a squishing noise and left indents in the carpeting that was eaten away by time in some places. Llaughing, Nebula placed a wet hand over her mouth to cover the outburst. Trinity looked back only momentarily before her eyes continued to sweep the surroundings.
Come on, hurry up.
His eyes followed them through the narrow hallway. There was no place to hide yet he remained completely elusive.
She had to know what they meant, that she was...transmitting. Transmitting what? Her carrier signal? No, too obvious. Somewhere in Zero One there was a beeping of her heart monitor as she traversed the Matrix, and so, she would have a carrier signal. But if it wasn’t that, what else could it be?
“Wait stop, stop.” Opticon leaned a semi-conscious Nebula against the yellowing wall whose wallpaper curled out with age. “Dammit Neb, you’re not exactly light in this state. Lay off the Cheetos.”
A flush of surprise spread on Opticon’s face as a wave of nausea clawed through his stomach, which now had a hand punched through it. The Bishop’s hand was sticky as the blood dripped down his fist and mixed with the soggy carpet. Then, he was gone.
Trinity didn’t even have the time to shoot. Opticon fell to the ground gasping for air as he bled out.
“Opticon!’ The Bishop’s attack was enough to scare her back to into her shell. Opticon’s leg twitched as the nerves went into shock. He was going to die. “Leave him, he’s a dead man,” confirmed Raze. Where the fist came through the flesh, a black oil-like substance started to spread throughout his body. Trinity watched as it crept into the wound and turned the flesh black. It also crawled through his eyes and covered them in a black murky oil slick. Convulsing, an electronic scream erupted from his mouth as his residual image was infected by it.
“What’s happening to him?” Seemed like she was full of questions tonight. A thick scowl chiseled itself on her pale lips. Raze shook his head. “Fuck if I know, but I ain’t waitin’ to find out!” Nebula straightened up, her eyes piercing through Raze. “If he is still alive we can’t leave him here. We don’t leave our own behind,” she said resembling more the captain she used to be through her drug induced haze. Trinity watched as Opticon writhed in pain on the ground. He should have been dead by now. He should have...suddenly, his code swam in front of her eyes, part of an ability that she had ‘acquired’ through the machines, but never worked unless she consciously used it. This time it seemed they were imposing it on her.
Swallowing hard, her face went white like milk.
Shit.
Brushing passed the “cybergoths”, she fired two shots into Opticon’s head, leaving neat bullet holes which lightly steamed as the metal seared the flesh and bone. The oil started to flush a light gray as it flowed out of the orifices of the body and started to slid back into the darkness. Grey code buzzed in the puddle as it surrounded a black figure that was lightly illuminated by the glow coming from it. “Go! NOW!”
Trinity fired at the figure in the dark and hit it once. It grimaced but made no other noise. It didn’t even move. Still, apparently it was vulnerable during this transference. The murky oil slick of code pooled at his feet and was absorbed through it like a tree’s roots absorb water. It wasn’t until cold gunmetal steel gray eyes fixated on her that she realized that he had them closed before. A soft pinging sound bounced off the ground. It only took her a moment to gather that he had somehow expelled the bullet from his body. Her brow furrowed in between the bridge of her sunglasses as the semi-automatic rapidly fired into the blackness. Then it closed its eyes. There are many shades of black and Trinity watched horrified as one swiftly seemed to fly around the room in a blurry streak of shiny blackness, like Hematite. Each shot did nothing to slow it down, not even when she actually hit it. Then it was gone.
Turning around, she was satisfied to see that the others had followed her orders. Just as she was about to move forward herself, the black oil streaked in front of her. She only briefly glimpsed the face of a man before powerful hands pushed her back. The force of his hands against her shoulders tore her off her feet as she flew across the room and landed with a thud against the wall, and another thud when she hit the floor. Her body left a Trinity-sized indent in the wall. Somewhere between the wall and hitting the floor, she realized that this thing was stronger than an Agent and viral. Again, she fired, The Bishop turned back into a black puddle of code and merged with the blackness of the room. Her eyes grew wide as the mess flowed quickly toward her. Pushing herself up, she aimed at the molten flow but The Bishop suddenly reconstituted himself upwards at her feet. Stars exploded in her head as his fist hit her squarely in the face. The Beretta was jerked out of her hand as her face was blow backward before the rest of her body. Plowing through a brick wall with her head, the blood and soot coating her face was the only thing preventing her from seeing the moon as she dropped down one story into the spine of a dusty red Buick. The car groaned as it buckled under the velocity of her fall and the surroundings rippled lightly like waves in a concrete sea.
Raspy breaths caused crimson blood to bubble out of her mouth like a small fountain. Somewhere in Zero One something was getting really nervous. Machines mopped up blood from her mouth. Real blood. Runners scuttled back and forth with instruments and syringes and gave them to medical machines as they passed Nebula’s sleeping, but unharmed body. Trinity lurched in her goo-less pod as her eyes rolled up behind her eyelids. A man, ashen faced and tall, stood behind her open glass pod. His hand traveled to the thick plug behind her head and took it firmly in his hands. Looking across the room, he looked at another man with a headphone in his ear. The man slowly shook his head. No. Not yet anyway.
Back in the Matrix, white noise rushed through her ears as the blood caked her face. Coughing lightly, she reached down into her utility belt and brought out her phone. Shoving her thumb in between the mouth, she was able to flick it open.
Can’t breath. The blood was choking her. Trinity couldn’t help yelling out as she tried to flip herself over, falling off the indented roof and onto the ground. It felt like someone had taken her spine and twisted it like a clown does a birthday balloon. The top of her head was sticky and wet, and as she lay on the ground the blood dripped down her cheeks and pooled on the ground with the blood from her mouth. Still, at least now she could better breath. Closing her eyes, her thumbs pressed the automatic dial buttons on her phone. Who or what number it was, she had no idea.
Some people say ‘help’ over the phone. Through the gurgling in her throat, Trinity managed to horsely croak out, “Bishop...viral.....anomaly.” She thought she heard clicking sounds over the phone and so she kept the line open, not intentionally really as she hadn’t the strength to reach the receiver in front of her face after she placed it on the ground. Would Agents come? Would the system respond? Would whoever she called, call for help? Red and purple dots danced in her line of sight as she admired the inside of her eyelids. The static in her head started to clear.
Corner of Jackson Street and Center Street, Trinity. Jackson and Center.
Was someone there? No, the voice was in her head. “Help,” she finally whispered roughly, unaware that The Bishop peered down at her from the top of the mangled car roof. Jumping down, her phone crumbled like an aluminum can in a trash compactor under his foot.
In a grimy metallic room of Zero One, the man watching the Matrix code running across a battered up monitor, gripped the plug in the back of Trinity’s head tighter.
Pull...