Single Minded Purpose

You and I Have Unfinished Business

Disclaimer: Insert usual “I don’t own the Matrix” blog here. I also do not own the rights to any situations/dialogue that is being borrowed from “Kill Bill Vol.1” either—I just think it is a really cool movie and some scenes seemed appropriate for this chapter.

Summary: Seraph seeks out Smith to punish him for Sarah’s violation and a dark chapter of Seraph’s life is revealed.

When Seraph arrived at Smith’s door, he heard the sound of a television being played in the background. It was so loud in fact, that he could hear every word of the dialogue as clear as if he were in the room itself…

“O-Ren Ishii, you and I have unfinished business!” the statuesque blonde woman in the yellow and black outfit shouted in fluent Japanese as she held her nemesis’ friend and lawyer, Sophie Fatale, in front of her on the point of her samurai sword. With one fluid stroke, the blonde woman with the deadly blade abruptly and without hesitation sliced the arm off of Sophie, leaving her shrieking and writhing on the floor in agony while the blood from her wound sprayed everywhere….

Although the movie was one of Smith’s favourites, Seraph had liked it too and he smiled wryly as he listened. How appropriate, he thought, that he should be watching a movie about bloody revenge and retribution as I arrive here tonight to avenge what he has done to my beloved. Smith had watched from the sidelines, supervising what his copies did to her as she was torn apart and ravaged; I would not be surprised if he enjoyed himself.

Instinctual courtesy made Seraph raise his hand to knock, but he thought better of it. No, I will give him as much warning as he gave Sarah before he had her brutalized--none. He grasped the door handle and ripped it out before raising his foot to break open the secondary security locks.

At his entrance, Smith looked neither shocked nor surprised; instead, he glanced at his watch. “You should have been here an hour ago, Seraph, for that was when I discovered that the firewall I installed had shut down. Before we continue, let me at least turn down the volume so we can hear one another.” Smith chuckled. “You’ve come at my favourite part—she is about to eliminate several of her enemy’s bodyguards with hardly any effort. I’ve always liked this movie, you know, despite the fact that the director is human,” he shrugged, before turning his attention back to the television.

Seraph gave Smith a disdainful glare as he regarded the three copies that were unobtrusively stationed around Smith’s apartment. “Am I such a threat to you that you need these things around to protect yourself from me? Or is it too much to ask that we conduct our business alone?”

“You may not be as strong as I am, Seraph, but I do respect your speed and proficiency in martial arts. Therefore, you will have to get through them before you get to me, as she does,” Smith said glibly, jerking his head toward the action on the widescreen plasma set. “You may begin anytime you wish, my friend. I’m going to watch the rest of my movie.”

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I have to admit, he does have extraordinary skill, Smith thought to himself as he watched Seraph thoroughly defeat each of the copies in turn. His anger has made him powerful; more so than I ever could have imagined. And after he is done with them, he will come for me and we shall see who will be the last man standing....

“I’m impressed,” Smith said with reluctant admiration as he poured himself another brandy. “You took care of my copies much sooner than I expected.” He indicated the space next to him on the sofa. “Sit down and let’s discuss this like the men we appear to be. Speaking of which,” Smith said, looking at Seraph over the rim of his snifter, “how shall we handle this? I’ve always wondered how two men defend a lady’s honour anyway. Shall we meet at dawn and have pistols at twenty paces? Since I can dodge bullets and you can’t, that method seems somewhat pointless, wouldn’t you say?”

“We don’t need weapons, Smith,” Seraph hissed, his entire body shaking with anger and rage.

“Very well. We shall only use our abilities in martial arts and may the best man, so to speak, win. Shall we share a brandy, then, before we begin?” Smith crooned, extending the bottle to his visitor.

“Go to hell,” Seraph snarled. At no time in his existence, had he ever felt an intensity of such raw emotion. Instead of recoiling from these new and terrifying feelings, he welcomed them. “You hurt Sarah, and I’m going to see that you pay for that,” he seethed.

Smith cocked his head as he considered Seraph’s statement. “Technically, it wasn’t me, per se, but my other selves who hurt her. I, on the other hand, hardly touched her. So you see, your argument is flawed.”

“You created those clones, no one else did.”

“That’s true. How is she, by the way?”

The memory of the last hour with Sarah and the Oracle flashed through Seraph’s mind. “Why? Do you care?”

“Not in the least. I was only asking out of curiosity, not actual concern.” He paused for a moment to take a leisurely sip of his drink before he continued. “How did it feel, Seraph, to finally possess the woman you love after I was done with her?” At Seraph’s blank look, Smith could not refrain from rolling his eyes. “Less than an hour after I had her the other night, she goes running off to you and then you have her as well. She was quite busy that night wasn’t she?”

Seraph stiffened at the slur on Sarah’s honour, but said nothing. Unfortunately, Smith was speaking the truth and they both knew it.

“Face the facts, Seraph, what you had was my sloppy seconds. But, you are free to have her from now on. I got what I wanted from her without too much difficulty or effort on my part. All I had to do to fuck her that first time was to get her tipsy and she readily spread her legs for me. Moreover, we must not forget your forbidding her to have anything to do with me only made her want to be with me even more. Besides, now that my other selves are done with her, she is nothing more than damaged goods to me.”

“What did you just call her?” Seraph said in a strangled whisper, his throat constricting.

Smith shrugged. “Damaged goods--isn’t that the correct term for a woman who is no longer a virgin or has been raped?”

“You bastard.”

“When you worked for the Frenchman, you yourself slapped around a few women who owed him money. So it’s a little late to preach or point fingers in my direction when your own hands are far from clean in that respect.”

Smith narrowed his eyes and peered at Seraph. “I know how many times you had a woman beg and plead for either more time to pay up or make you stop hitting her. Women will say and do anything if the pain we inflicted on them at the time got too great.”

“You hurt a lot more of them than I ever could,” Seraph retorted.

“Yes, I did, and I admit that freely and openly. However, here is the difference between us: I hurt men and women primarily to get information, valuable information that was essential to the survival of the Matrix, whereas you hurt people for money. Nothing more, nothing less. So get off your sanctimonious high horse and drop your holier-than-thou attitude about how much you’ve changed for the better.

I know where you come from, Seraph, and I know what you’ve done to countless women in your time. Not only that, I know that there were a few times in your past when you took a woman up on her offer of performing a sexual act on you in order to buy her a little time to get the Frenchman money she owed him. Deny that if you can.”

“I am ashamed of what I have done in the past and I do not deny anything that you’ve said. However, I am no longer that man, Smith, I’ve changed.” I have changed, Seraph thought to himself. “The Oracle made me see the error of my ways and its inevitable path to self-destruction and self-loathing. Now I can look into the mirror and not be ashamed of my own reflection.” However, there was a time when I could not look at myself at the end of the day, Seraph recalled sadly. It was a week before Sarah made that appointment for me to see the Oracle….

“Please!” the woman begged, “I just need more time! I’ll get the money, I promise!”

“You’ve had two extensions on your loan as it is. The Merovingian has been patient with you long enough and you are going to pay the price for reneging on your obligation,” Seraph snarled angrily at the woman who was on her knees on the hard concrete floor of the deserted garage. He had taken her to that location on purpose; no one would be able to see or hear the shot he would soon deliver to the back of her head.

In their previous encounter, he had beaten her as a warning that her continued failure to pay what she owed was not going to be tolerated any longer. His efforts to convince her were still visible—the bruises on her body were slowly turning from vivid purple to a mottled greenish-yellow now. When only a meagre amount of what she owed was delivered, the Frenchman decreed her immediate demise.

Deliberately and purposefully, Seraph loaded the gun in his hand as the woman watched him put only one bullet into the chamber.

“I’m only going to need one,” he said with a sinister smile, and met her eyes with his own as she followed every movement he made.

“Please, I’ll do anything you ask. Anything!” she implored. “Please don’t do this; I’m going to have a baby!”

“Why should the fact that you are able to breed concern me in any way?” Seraph said coldly. You humans breed as prolifically as rodents, he thought disgustedly and his lip curled in a sneer. To ascertain whether or not she was telling him the truth, he analyzed her Matrix code and found her statement to be truthful. She was indeed with child; she was carrying two, as it turned out. He had killed pregnant women for the Frenchman before, but never one who was going to have more than one offspring.

For a long moment, he pondered what to do. He narrowed his eyes and looked at her in meticulous detail, assessing everything and missing nothing, Even with her black eye she is not unattractive, he thought, and her expectant state is not immediately obvious; she must be nearly four months along in her pregnancy but she isn’t showing that much.

His eyes lingered on her swelling bosom; in a couple of months, he thought, her breasts will be quite large as they prepared to supply her child with nourishment. Mammals nurse their young--but it is only in human females that breasts are used not only for food but more importantly, their function is to entice and provoke the males of the species into procreating with the females. Now I understand the reasoning behind that, he pondered, for even though she is a human, I find that part of her anatomy alluring as well.

Feeling his gaze upon her, the woman did not dare raise her eyes and possibly run the risk inciting his anger. Her female intuition told her that he was hesitating; perhaps he could be convinced to let me go, she thought with a glimmer of hope and waited for him to make a decision of some sort.

He smiled to himself as he remembered what the Merovingian’s other muscle for hire had once told him: “Wingless, trust me on this one. Women will promise almost anything--even give you the use of their bodies if you threaten to kill them. It is one of the perks of the job, you might say. And it’s not like Mero to mind what we do, anyway. He is a Frenchman after all—having sex in any form is all they live for and he won’t get on our case for doing what we have to to get some for ourselves.”

Now is as good a time as any to test out that theory, Seraph thought to himself. Besides, it has been too long since I had any action of that sort.

“All right, I’ll take you up on that offer,” he said, returning the gun to its holster. In the crudest terms he could think of, he told her exactly what he wanted from her….

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After he was finished with her, he returned to the apartment he shared with Sarah. As soon as he saw her, he drew her into his embrace and hugged her tightly.

“Promise me something, Sarah,” he whispered, “promise me that if you ever need extra money, you’ll come to me first and not the Merovingian. Promise me!” he said, his voice insistent. I do not want you to be humiliated and degraded by acts his goons will demand on you if you are late in repayment. I cannot bear the thought of that—of having another man do to you what I did to that woman, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut in painful remembrance.

I probably harmed her unborn children with the force I used in order to satisfy my lust. I’ve hurt women before; many of them, so why is this one different from any of the others? Was it because she was carrying two babies and not just one? She was going to have twins—a boy and a girl. Just like Sarah and me.

Unconsciously he tightened his embrace and took comfort in feeling her body so close to his. After what happened tonight, I will remain celibate from this time forward. I cannot risk hurting another woman ever again—but the main reason is that the only woman I wish to be with is the one I am holding in my arms at this very moment.

It only just occurred to me that I am just one more in the Frenchman’s gang of thugs. I used to pride myself that I was better than they, that they were nothing but trained dogs who do their master’s bidding but after what I did tonight, I realize that I am no better than they are, he thought. In fact, I am exactly like them. I’ve hurt women before; many of them, so why is this one different from any of the others?
However, it wasn’t until I came home tonight and held Sarah in my arms that I realized how much I hate working for him; mindlessly following his orders with no will of my own and being obligated to laugh at his stupid jokes. But what I despise most of all is coming home every night and lie to you, Sarah, about what I’ve done during my day at work. If you knew even a part of the awful things I have to do for him on a daily basis, you would turn from me in disgust and revulsion and that is something I could not bear, not even for a moment.

As a result, I come home to you each and every night and lie to your face, hiding the truth deep inside of me. I suppose it keeps company with the other thing I dare not tell you—I love you, Sarah. Not as a sister, but the kind of love that a man feels for a woman.

“Are you all right, Seraph?” Sarah asked softly.

He shook his head and for a long time, he did not answer.

“What’s bothering you?” she said, stroking his cheek with her hand and looking deep into his eyes. She could not help but see that they were full of sadness and anguish and her heart twisted within her for she wished she knew how to make him feel better. However, upon further reflection, she realized that there was someone who could—the program known throughout the Matrix as the Oracle. Maybe she can give him some insight and advice that will enable him to break out of the dark moods that envelop and torment him to this extent. It’s worth a try.

“You should see the Oracle, Seraph,” Sarah said. “Maybe she can help with whatever is troubling you so much. Who knows? It might even make you feel better.”

He nodded his agreement, still saying nothing. Perhaps I should see her—whatever she has to say cannot possibly make me feel worse than I already do right now…

“See? I knew the memories from your true self would come back,” Smith said with a triumphant gleam in his eye as he saw the look on his visitor’s face. “And you call yourself a changed man,” he scoffed in derision before turning away to stare into the crackling fire that filled the fireplace. “You probably already know that it was in front of this very fireplace that I had her for the first time, but did you know that it was here that I tasted her as well?”

In a sensual manner, Smith ran his tongue over his lips to emphasize his point as he reflected on that activity. He smirked when he saw Seraph swallow and turn his face away but not before Smith caught a glimpse of the hurt look that had been there.

“It was kind of sweet and salty at the same time, if I recall correctly. Haven’t you found that yourself, Seraph? Or are you still so prim and proper that you haven’t done that to her, or any woman, for that matter? It can be a bit messy for the man who is doing it, that is true, but when we are in that position, we are the ones who are in control; we are the ones who decide if the woman we are with at the time shall be allowed to have her orgasm or not. We get to play God. The power and control we wield in that moment is very intoxicating. Or do you think that performing that particular sexual act on a woman is disgusting? I don’t.”

You don’t know how wrong you are, Smith, Seraph thought. Despite what you may think, I am perfectly familiar with the giving and receiving of that act of physical intimacy and I am not repulsed by the fact that Sarah had oral sex performed on her; I am only disgusted that she shared such an intimate gesture with you.

He looked at Seraph, but he showed no emotion whatsoever. Interesting, Smith thought. But wait, I will provoke you into a response.

“Did you know that when a woman is sexually aroused, her secretions become sweeter to the taste to her partner? You didn’t know that—why am I not surprised? After all, my experiences with women outnumber yours to such an enormous degree, that if I were to die tomorrow, you could spend the rest of your days fucking Sarah every single night and you still would not come close, if you’ll pardon the expression, to matching me.” He gave Seraph a sidelong glance and was perturbed that he had not moved a muscle or showed any emotion.

“Get out of here, Seraph; you’re beginning to bore me,” Smith said, walking up to him and looking directly into his eyes. When he spoke, he dropped his voice until Seraph had to strain to hear him. “When you leave here, take this thought with you: she has tasted me as well, you know.” He knew he had hit a nerve with his visitor when he saw a muscle in Seraph’s jaw twitch in response to his statement and decided to drive the knife of jealousy a bit deeper into Seraph’s heart.

“Picture this, if you will. My flesh deep inside her mouth, her tongue licking me and when I came, she eagerly swallowed every drop.” He chuckled dryly. “Just imagine where her lips were less than twenty minutes before you kissed her, Seraph—they were wrapped tightly around my cock.” Smith leaned closer until his mouth was nearly touching Seraph’s ear. “I’ll bet the little minx—I mean, the little vegetable as she is now--didn’t even have the consideration to brush her teeth before she ran off to be with you, did she?”

When Smith saw his guest’s fist clench and his face flush, he knew that his statement had hit home. What Smith was not expecting was the passion of Seraph’s reaction to it. Seraph drew his fist back and punched his enemy squarely in the mouth.

The unexpectedness of the attack caught Smith completely off guard and he staggered backward, the brandy glass falling out of his grip and hitting the floor, shattering the crystal snifter and sending pieces of glass everywhere and it was only by using his agent reflexes that Smith managed to stay on his feet.

Not waiting to see the effect of his first strike, Seraph rained a flurry of blows, both martial and straight-out punches--that would not have been out of place in a common barroom brawl--down on Smith.

“Well, well,” Smith said, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth, “the real Seraph is finally coming back into the light after all these years.”

Smith was a much more powerful program than his opponent, but Seraph’s anger gave him strength and speed far beyond normal, rendering the former agent incapable of responding to the multitude and ferocity of his visitor’s attacks. Sheer unadulterated rage gave Seraph the strength and speed to overcome Smith’s reflexes. Seraph smiled thinly when he saw the look of incredulous disbelief that came over Smith’s face.

“What’s the matter, old man?” Seraph jeered. “Have you become too aged and decrepit to defend yourself anymore? Or can it be that I have finally gotten the better of the great Agent Smith--the leader of all the agents and the one program whom no one could beat?”

He aimed a punch at Smith’s nose and felt the bone break under his fist. Seraph felt a rush of adrenaline flow through his system and the pleasure of it was almost sexual in its intensity. His cheeks became flushed with sheer joy and triumph surged to the very end of his fingertips as hot blood spurted from Smith’s nose. Smith staggered from the blow and fell to his knees and Seraph took advantage of every opportunity of slamming his fist and foot into any unguarded areas on Smith’s body.

“How do you like it, Smith, to be hurt and humiliated?” Seraph sneered, as he stood over him, an uncharacteristic feeling of malicious pleasure in the pain he knew he was causing his opponent. He surveyed the damage he had inflicted on Sarah’s violator: a broken nose, a split lip and a thoroughly blackened eye. And if the swelling on the left side of Smith’s face was any indication, he had a fractured cheekbone as well.

He watched with savage and primal delight as blood from those injuries streamed down Smith’s face and neck, spoiling the pristine whiteness of his shirt. Not to mention that Smith was wheezing and coughing up blood with each laboured breath he took, it would appear that I have broken at least two or three ribs and his lung has been punctured or damaged. He will have to manipulate the Matrix to rid himself of those injuries, Seraph thought to himself. But he and I will both know what I have done here and on his own turf no less.

The darkest part of his nature wanted to remain and beat Smith further, but he did not give in to those feelings. Sarah needs me now, and I have done what I set out to do.

But there is still something that needs to be done before my work here is complete. Seraph bent down and dipped the fingers of his right hand in Smith’s blood that was still streaming from his nose. With careful attention, Seraph pulled aside the neckline of his black tank top and over his heart, drew a symbol; it was taken from the ancient language of his warrior ancestors thousands of years ago when their culture ruled much of the Eastern civilized world.

Smith’s eyes followed every movement Seraph made, and his lip curled when he saw what he had written: Conqueror. With a few strokes of his finger, Seraph quickly drew another symbol in his own blood on Smith’s forehead and Smith did not need to be told what it meant, he already knew. Conquered.

Seraph straightened up and shrugged his clothes back into place. “I have beaten you.”

“For the first and only time, Seraph. You only won tonight because I made the error of underestimating you. However, you are going to find that you will regret that you did not kill me,” Smith jeered, “and much sooner than you think.”

Seraph said nothing as he turned and left Smith’s apartment. Unlike you, Smith, I have no need to brag about my victory. Fate was with me today but that may not be the case the next time we meet.

“This - is - what - you - get - for - fucking - around - with - yakuzas! Go home to your mother!” The svelte woman in the blood spattered yellow and black outfit yelled angrily to the frightened young man who was her last opponent. Using the flat side of her katana, she delivered a spank after each word to his bottom--to drive home her point that he was far too young to be involved with gangs at his age…

Damn great movie, Smith thought as he picked himself off the floor and spat out a mouthful of blood. With the one eye he could still see out of, he surveyed the damage done to his living room and the three copies that still did not get up from where they had fallen. At least Seraph had the decency not to fuck around with my television, he reflected with a wry smile.

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The dark-suited copy slowly and silently moved away from Sarah’s door. After Seraph had left to seek out and avenge himself on him, Smith had had one of his copies quietly station itself outside Sarah’s apartment door to eavesdrop on any and all conversations that took place within. My creator certainly was right: one never knows what interesting tidbits of useful information can be gleaned from simply listening at keyholes, it thought to itself. I must pass this information on as soon as possible.

The clone closed its eyes and communicated the complete stream of dialogue it had overheard between the Oracle and the Architect to the one who had created him. When Smith had received and interpreted the complete transmission, he smiled, disregarding the sear of pain from his injuries it cost him to do it.

“Congratulate me, boys,” he said to the three fallen clones as he leant them a hand in rising from the floor. “I don’t have any cigars to pass around so brandy will have to do. We are going to be a father.”