"What would you prefer, the Mackenzie's boys?" his voice dripped with a mix of mockery and sadistic delight. "It seems rather awkward, doesn't it? I know who you are, but you have no clue who I am. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Agent Smith."
Suddenly his entire demeanour shifted, shedding the façade of a disciplined soldier to reveal the sinister depths of his true nature. His eyes gleamed with malice, his once composed posture now exuding an air of wickedness and arrogance.
Ivor's eyes narrowed, his fists clenched, but he maintained his composure like a soldier. "Aye, you've done your homework, Agent Smith, I'm impressed. You must have spent hours scribblin' in your wee notebook."
Agent Smith chuckled. "Oh, Ivor, my dear amputation enthusiast, you see, I know just how dangerous you and your brother can be."
Ivor's jaw tensed; his eyes locked on Agent Smith. "I can say the same about you, someone who works for a corporation that spills the blood of the innocent."
"That's quite an accusation, Ivor, forgive me I meant Sever," Agent Smith taunted. "Do you know the story behind that little nickname Miss Winters? You're in the presence of a real charmer here. A master of amputations turned bloodthirsty monster, along with his equally deranged brother." Ivor and Clayton's glared. "You see, Miss Winters," Agent Smith continued ignoring the twin's threatening demeanour. "Ivor here was once a decorated soldier, a deadly weapon in his own right. But then, the infection took hold, and he unleashed his insatiable hunger for carnage upon his comrades. His brother, a valiant soul, attempted to intervene but only met the same fate." Agent Smith paused for effect, revelling in the growing uneasiness. His eyes gleamed with wicked satisfaction. "Together, they roamed the land, leaving a trail of death and despair in their wake. Town after town, they slaughtered, devoured, and infected without remorse. Care to speculate why that nickname precedes him until this very day? If you guessed that he severed his victim's limb-from-limb with nothing but his shiny claws. Then callously strung them up like marionettes, leaving them to suffer a slow and agonizing death. Then you hit the nail on the head. Mind you, Clayton here may not have done much severing himself, but he stood by and watched his brother commit all those gruesome acts."
The atmosphere grew heavier. I wasn't the only one who was shaken by the story judging by the way the other agents were tensing up. Agent Smith's words painted a grim picture of Ivor and Clayton's reign of terror, more so Ivor. No wonder those guys at the Gas station were so scared of him.
Agent Smith's voice turned evil as he posed his final question, "So tell me, Miss Winters, do you think you're safe with these monsters in your presence? Especially on the full moon that is coming up. Did they tell you what happens to them on a full moon?" He smirks diabolically, clearly enjoying this more than anyone should.
The twins growl at him.
Full moon?
Agent Smith's lips curled into a smug smirk. "Ah, the harmony of your growls is truly enchanting. It seems the beasts have found their voice."
Ivor's nostrils flared, his voice seething with controlled rage. "You may mock us, Agent Smith, but remember this: nature is unforgivin'. We are the embodiment of that primal force, and we will protect our own."
"Your own?" Agent Smith says, stroking his chin intriguingly. Yeah, I didn't miss that either. Our own? "You consider Miss Winters your own? You think you can protect her, keep her safe like you protected Grace—"
"You bastard!" I hiss bitterly. Clayton's strong arms tighten around me holding me against his rugged chest. "Don't you dare speak her name with that filthy mouth of yours, you good-for-nothin' son of a bitch! And couldn't you come up with your own fake name? You had to raid the cinema for inspiration. How impressive. Who wouldn't want to name themselves after a character from The Matrix? I mean, who needs a unique fake name when you can just borrow one from a movie?"
"Says the girl named after a season."
"Season? That's the best you got?" I scoff. Clayton's hold on me tightens. "My name might be inspired by the beauty of nature's ever-changing seasons, but at least it's got some charm. Meanwhile, you, Mr Agent Smith, with your generic name, must have run out of creativity faster than a hound chasing its tail."
"Well, aren't you just a feisty little southern Bell," he retorts with a hint of amusement. That made me madder than a bull in a rodeo. I grit my teeth so hard; it feels like I could chew through iron."I must say I wasn't expecting this kind of behaviour from you, but let's not forget that it's not about the name. Agent Smith may be generic as you so eloquently put it but remember, it's the man behind the name that should concern you. I don't know if any of you realized but you're trespassing on my territory. We outnumber you." As the words fell from his deceitful lips more and more agents began to surround us. Agent Smith's expression remained unyielding, his voice dripping with superiority. "Make no mistake, the power lies with those who hold the upper hand. And that...is... me." As Agent Smith's words hung in the air, a gust of wind rustled the leaves, heightening the tension. "Since I'm in a generous mood, I'll give you one last chance Miss Winters. What's it going to be, us or them?"
We were trapped, like a raccoon caged in a tight burlap sack, leaving us with no way to escape. Ivor and Clayton both looked at me with a mixture of emotions etched on their faces. And I'm pretty sure they could smell the fear radiating from me. The weight of what I had just learned was impossible to ignore. It scared the living daylights out of me, and for a fleeting moment, I actually considered entertaining his despicable offer. But deep down, we all knew surrendering was a death sentence.
"Lass?" Ivor warns. "You can't trust him."
Agent Smith let out a scornful laugh. "Can't trust me? I'm not the one who severs people for sport. If anything, she is safer with me than she'll ever be with an infected."
Ivor's eyes narrowed, his anger intensifying. "Aye, 'safer' is definitely the word that comes to mind. Because nothin' screams safety like being manipulated by a shady organization."
"We may not have all the answers, but we won't stand idly by while you destroy her life," Clayton snarls. "She deserves a chance to make her own choices, to live free."
Agent Smith's sneer turned into a cold, calculating smile. "She's always been a part of something bigger, something greater, something beyond your comprehension. And you can't change that. But I suppose time will reveal the truth."
"The truth?" Ivor laughs darkly. "Let's talk about the truth, shall we? The truth that Phoenix Corp callously organized the murder of her family in cold blood, all to cover up their own hidden agenda."
Agent Smith's facade wavered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "Ah, the truth. Such a subjective concept, isn't it? But who's to say what really happened?" he shrugged dismissively. "But enough of this. Your time is up." Suddenly, we found ourselves engulfed in a storm of crimson darts. "Make your choice now, Miss Winters, or I shall make it for you."
As terrified as I was of Ivor, deep down I knew he wouldn't hurt me. Maybe I lost my marbles or hit my head harder than I thought in the accident. Who's to say for certain? But you know what they say, it's better to dance with the devil you know than to tango with the devil you never met yet.
"Can I take a rain check?"
Agent Smith's expression twisted, caught off guard by my response. A flicker of annoyance passed through his eyes, momentarily breaking his composure. Suddenly a deafening roar shattered the tension. A garbage truck was hurtling through the chaos, barreling toward us. Agents desperately leapt out of harm's way as the roaring vehicle ploughed through their ranks, clearing a path for us.
Well, that's one way to take out the trash.
Clayton's swift reaction saved me from the hail of bullets. He shielded me with his body as I clung to him, my screams muffled by the rush of adrenaline as he jumped into the waiting SUV.
Ivor leapt into the driver's seat and floored it. The SUV weaved through the chaos, tires screeching against the asphalt. Explosions and screams erupted as we tore through the streets, the sound of bullets and explosions merged with the screeching tires and roaring engines.
Clayton sits up, concern stretched across his face. All the windows are scattered decorating the inside of the SUV. Ivor's driving is nothing short of manic. Meanwhile, the garbage truck looms close behind us.
"Are you alright?" Clayton's voice cuts through the chaos. "Bell?" he growls as the wind whips through the broken windows, carrying with it the distant sound of sirens. I take a moment to collect myself. "Are you hurt?" he asks inspecting my body.
"No-no." I shake my head as I sit up, my head spinning with shock and disorientation. He's the one covered in bullet holes and he's worried about me?
"Fuck," Ivor curses, his voice filled with frustration and urgency. "We're leakin' fuel."
My heart races as the sense of déjà vu washes over me. Memories of my aunt floods my mind, intensifying the ache and guilt in my chest. Ivor takes a sharp turn and speeds down the boardwalk, the startled crowd parting before us. The garbage truck, the police, and the relentless Phoenix agents remain in hot pursuit.
We abandoned the SUV and made our way down the pier, where we saw a man securing his speedboat to the dock. However, as soon as he spotted us approaching, he reacted quickly and jumped into the water.
A bit dramatic if you ask me. "I don't think he wants to share his boat with us." I frown.
Clayton's lips curled into a half-smile; his gaze locked on the retreating figure in the water. "Seems our mate here prefers a dip over saying hello."
Can't say I blame him. If I were him I would have done the same thing.
Without hesitation, we got into the boat, its engine roaring to life. I turned just in time to see Roman jumping out of the moving garbage truck as it erupts into a fiery explosion like in the movies. The blast engulfs the pursuing police cars and Phoenix agents, momentarily trapping them and providing us with a chance to escape. Roman rolled onto the pier, absorbing the impact and immediately springing back to his feet and bolted towards us.
"What took you so long?" Clayton asks as he takes the helm, his hands steady on the wheel as the speed boat thrusts forward.
"Had to take a leak."
*************
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-CherryKel