Hey all! I just saw V for Vendetta for the first time and this popped into my head. Short lilttle oneshot about V watching and conducting Evey's torture. Enjoy, and as always, read and review (and if you're feeling dangerous, check out my other stories!) :)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, as much as I wish I could come up with something as cool as V for Vendetta, I didn't. But, I did create this little story based on it. :)
He watched the screen with vain interest. She fell out the window and he cringed as he saw her bounce slightly. His hand gripped the arm rest and half of him wished his plan wouldn't go through as he had previously commanded. She stood up and looked back up the window, when she turned around she was grabbed brutally and the infamous black bag was placed over her head. He sighed and put his scarred hands over his mask. Two slim tears rolled out form beneath the mask and his back shook as she was escorted out of the yard into the collection van. He gathered himself into a suitable state of mind and walked gracefully out of the dim room.
The door to his personal hell closed behind him as he slid his mask off and settled behind the heavy desk. The shadows played perfectly and hid his face well. His fingers tapped idly along the grains of wood as he waited impatiently for them to arrive. He wanted to get this over with.
The glass window shook violently as they shoved her into the small room. She shivered and glanced around timidly. It was so cold here. V stared at her, she was so scared. Would she stand up to his interrogations? He was about to find out.
"Do you deny the fact that you are Evey Hammond?"
Evey looked at him curiously, a moment of braveness flashed across her face, "No, I do not," the look vanished just as quickly came yet V smiled into the darkness.
He began with his next question, one that would truly test her loyalty. This was needed, he kept reminding himself. Every bone is his charred body wanted to take her back through the secret passage and into a warm bed and just watch the breath go in and out of her beautiful body.
He pounded the desk and she jumped, he had to stop his mind from wondering like that. He had to.
"What do you know of the recent terrorist attacks?"
Her face turned, her eyes searching into the shadows trying to pinpoint a face with the voice, "Nothing," she said slowly, "I don't know anything."
His long pointer finger drummed the desk, "Is that so? Because Ms Hammond, not knowing anything could mean your life." He watched her closely, gauging her reaction. She gulped nervously but kept her ground, "I don't know anything."
He leaned a little closer, just out of her line of vision into the dark abyss, "And what about the mysterious V? A name? Location? Plan? Even a real name?"
"I told you, I don't know anything."
V sighed; she had done exactly what he had hoped. But now, even so, he must go through with the rest of his plan, "You will come to greatly regret that response," he snapped his fingers and two guards came and dragged her away across the dank floor.
V stood and brushed off his coat solemnly and once again hid himself beneath the mask. He traveled into the next room, one where no one could see him, yet he could see everything play out just as he had foreseen it. This being one of the more gruesome tasks of his plan, he chose not to sit down in the plush chair but rather to stand as close to the one-way glass as he possibly could.
This time when they brought her in, tears were streaming down her face, mascara running in two thick lines. They pushed her into a ancient barber's chair, one that had no doubt seen the worst of it through the years. She closed her eyes and waited, trying with all her willpower to to scream. They draped a thin sheet around her bare shoulders and tied it tightly behind her neck. She gagged as they pulled it just a bit more and clenched the chair painfully.
V shifted his weight from one foot to the other--anxious. The razor blade glinted in the harsh light as it came closer and closer to her curly hair. Evey held back gasps as the blade touched her scalp and shaved off the first chunk of her beloved hair. The razor moved faster and faster, making sure to take away every shred of her femininity. At long last, she could hold it in longer and become hysterical as she watched her locks of hair fall to the ground beneath her.
V turned away as once again she was taken from the room and thrown into her new home--a cold, desolate stone chamber. One that offered no warmth, or promise of a better tomorrow. As the steel door slammed shut the numerous locks could be heard form the inside as the clicked shut sharply.
Inside the camera room again, V watched in horror as she curled herself up in the fetal position in the very middle of the cell and cried. She cried until he didn't think she could cry any longer. He sat, staring at her long after she had fallen into a fitful sleep, wishing there was another way. But there isn't he kept telling himself. That is no other way. V's head started to droop down slowly as sleep was coming on fast, when all of a sudden Evey awoke with a start. For a split moment she didn't know where she was. As the realization struck her she screamed. She backed herself into the corner of the cell, almost as if something was going to come and take her. An old rat scurried out from behind her and she stifled a shriek with her grimy hand and moved back into the center of the frigid floor.
V shook his head sadly and turned off the monitors and retired into his bed chamber. As he sank into the soft mattress his mind wondered to Evey's cell where he knew she was shivering, cold and alone. A frown formed on his face again and strode out into the chamber hall right to the front of her door, IV, number four. He sat down on the damp floor and rested his head against the door. There he fell asleep under the same conditions as his Evey, and woke in the morning as rays of light spilled through the bars on the windows beside him.