This is my first attempt at a Matrix-themed story. Enjoy.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T PRINT IT!?!" screamed the man as he stared down upon the slightly older gentleman sitting at the desk. He was so flustered with annoyance at the other that you could nearly hear his heart pounding.
"Listen Compy, I am the editor of this paper and what I say goes," replied the second man in a firm and highly agitated voice.
"Chief, please. You and I both know there is a story here," began the man again.
"You think there is a story, not me. So what if a bunch of leather-clad idiots want to stand around phone booths. Get me some real proof that there is something to the story or move on Mark."
"Fine," he said with an air of determination as he turned to head out of the editor's office. Mark Compy was determined to find the proof he needed to show the world that there was more going on outside than what was meant to be believed.
"How did it go buddy?"
Mark turned to see a smaller man walk up to him, bright eyed and excited at the possibility of a new story to track.
"He wants proof JJ," said Mark as he sat down in his desk adjacent from the second reporter.
"So what are you going to do?" JJ asked, unsure of what was in store for them.
For a moment Mark waited, looking between his computer and JJ and then back again. Finally after reading through an email he stood up and looked at JJ and said "If he wants proof, he'll get it."
****
Mark leaned back in the seat of the taxi as it drove towards the Projects. He looked up to see the bill was already over twenty dollars and he was still a good ten minutes from his apartment. The rain was falling pretty steadily as he gazed out the window at the church in Camon.
"Driver, pull over," the words were out of his mouth before he even realized he had said anything. The taxi slid to a stop along side the road as Mark fetched for some money out of his pocket. "Keep the change," he said as he exited the taxi and began to walk towards the church.
"MOVE!"
Before he could even have a moment to prepare, Mark was thrown out of the way by a man dressed in a large leather coat. He hit the ground hard as another man chased after the first and pulled a gun out, firing a few shots. Mark stayed on the ground, frozen in shock as the first man fell. An instant later his attacker was gone and Mark moved over to the fallen man.
"Buddy, buddy you ok?" The words seemed empty. Mark could already tell this man was dead from the blood spreading across the ground. After a moment he reached for his cell phone and began to dial the police.
"911 emergency," came the voice over the phone.
"Yes, I am calling to report a..." Mark stopped dead in mid-sentence. Another person, female, yet still clad in a long leather jacket was approaching. She ignored Mark completely and made her way to the fallen man.
"911 emergency, are you there sir?" the voice came over the phone again as Mark stood there, watching as this woman stood over the man as if she was ready.
"Um, yah, I wanted to report a..." once again Mark stopped mid sentence as the slain man in front of him began to be surrounded by a greenish glow and rise back to his feet, alive and as if nothing had happened.
"*CENSORED* machines," the slain man began to say as he noticed Mark. "*poop*, a bluepill, how much did he see?"
"Everything," Mark said as he hung the phone up. "How did you...I saw you get shot."
"Listen kiddo, there are things in this world you aren't able to understand."
"Save the **bullcrud** for someone else, ok," Mark said to her, and amusing look of shock spreading across her face. "Listen, I am a reporter. It is my job to find out the truth."
"A reporter eh?" the slain man said, wiping some dust off of his jacket and looking at Will as if trying to make a decision. "So, I take it you are after a story then?"
"I am after the truth," Mark proclaimed, squaring off with the two in front of him as he saw the woman pull a phone out of her pocket.
"Captain, I think we have a new recruit," she said into the phone.
"What do you mean by that?" Mark asked, looking from the woman to the man.
The man smiled at Mark and ignored his question, continuing to be lost in thought on a decision to be made until the woman nodded at him. "Well Mister..."
"Compy," Mark said. "Mark Compy."
"Well Compy," the man continued on, "are you ready for your wake-up call?"
THE BEGINNING
