Shadowsteps | By : vsvigalante Category: DC Verse Comics > V for Vendetta Views: 913 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own V for Vendetta, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Chapter 2--Where Evil Dwells
“ Mr. Etheridge, report for the Ear!” Chancellor Adam Sutler exclaimed, anger building inside of him. He had been awaken rather abruptly from a good night's sleep, having been requested to return to Norsefire's central headquarters. Since the message had an urgency about it, Sutler had grabbed his black leather trench coat and pulled it hurriedly over his pajamas.
“ We were able to triangulate the origin of the fireworks. That information has already been transferred to Inspector Finch.”
“ Very good. Inspector Finch, report for the Nose.”
Finch took a deep breath and began. “ thanks to Mr. Etheridge, we tracked the launch for the fireworks to the roof of the old BBC building. They appear to be individually weighed flares with chemical traces found at both locations.” Finch paused, “ Although there is a level of sophistication about them, they are made from over the counter chemicals that can be found readily in most stores, leaving them almost impossible to trace. Who ever made them, Chancellor, has an extensive knowledge of explosives.”
“ Gentlemen, “ Sutler began,” do you know what this is behind me?”
The two men looked at each other.
“ It's the Fate computer system, sir.”
“ No. No, it's not, Mr. Etheridge. It's more than that. This computer is the symbol of the new government we have built. A symbol of the highest attainable level mankind can reach. Do you know what that level is, Mr. Finch?”
Finch shook his head.
Sutler jumped from his chair, pounding on the desk. “ Control! Mr. Finch! Control! The world around us is changing. What about the United States? Several years ago, it was a country that had everything, “ Sutler paused, a violent gleam in his eye. “ Now look at it gentlemen, it is torn apart in a second Civil War! It is up to us to set things right once again!” Sutler moved slowly around the desk. “ Without control, man is just another stinking, sweating animal, Mr. Finch. Control, Mr. Etheridge. Control that has taken us the last several years to build. Now, “ Sutler looked at the two men, “ do you know what happened tonight?”
Etheridge glanced over at Finch, then back to the monitor. “ Uh...we...lost control?”
“ Yes, Mr. Etheridge. We lost control, and someone hurt us.” Sutler sat back down. “ Mr. Finch, it is imperative that we act swiftly and precisely. I want that man found. I want his head, or by god, I will have yours, do I make myself clear?!”
“ Yes, Chancellor.” Finch answered.
“ Good then. England prevails.” Sutler's image disappeared from the screen.
“ Bloody hell.”
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V quickly led the blindfolded Jazlyn by her fingertips, guiding her almost like they were dancing, suddenly, his fingers slipped free from hers, and she reached out, “ Wait, “ Jazlyn searched through the air. “ Where are you?”
“ I am here.” His voice came from behind her, his hands removing the blindfold.
“ Oh my god...” She breathed looking around the huge room she stood in. “ Where are we?”
“ My home. “ V answered, “ I call it the Shadow Gallery.”
The gallery was filled with an amazing collection, ranging from the Renaissance masters to literature, from statues to an antique Steinway that graced the room as its centerpiece. Movie posters lined the walls, along with a vast cd and vinyl collection that surrounded an old jukebox. In an adjacent alcove, a television and sofa gave the room a homey appearance, while shelves of dvds lined the walls.
Jazlyn turned to V. Where did you get all this stuff--are you a collector?”
“ Heaven's no, “ V replied moving around the room, his hands in an outward posture. “ in this world, Jazlyn, all these beautiful things have been outlawed by our 'so-called' government, Norsefire. Most of these, I merely rescued from the Ministry of Objectionable Materials, other pieces, here and there during my adventures.”
Jazlyn whistled softly. “ Where I come from, people would have killed you in a heartbeat to get their hands on these treasures--” She turned to V. “ If your government ever found this place...”
V interrupted. “ If my home where to be discovered, I am quite sure that a few pieces of art
would be the least of my worries.” He said looking around, then crossing his hands in front of himself, turned his attention back toward her. “ Now, who are you?”
“ I've already told you...my name is Jazlyn Sommers, I came into the future to escape prosecution of my kind in the United States. I'm twenty-one years old, and I spent four years of my life in Salem Prison because of my abilities. My mother and grandmother both died there, but I refused to let it happen to me. I escaped, but I don't remember how. I knew I had to do something, I couldn't let things continue on the way they were, so I came here, hoping to find some answers...” She crossed her arms, “ but it looks like the future is worse that the past.”
“ We are oft to blame in things such as this. “ V answered. “ What year did you come from?”
“ 1999.” Jazlyn sighed.
“ Thirteen years ago...” V spoke softly, “ Your United States is now engaged in a second civil war.”
“ I knew it wouldn't be long before all hell broke loose.” Jazlyn replied, “ Now, what do I do? I'm quite sure New London isn't ready for someone like me.”
“ No, I assure you, they are not.” V answered, “ Since I assume you have no immediate plans, may I offer you my hospitality--you may remain here with me, if you wish.”
“ Stay here...with you? “ Jazlyn repeated.
“ If you like.”
“ I...don't even know you. You may be a pervert--or something worse.” Jazlyn stared into the black eye slits.
V tilted the mask toward her. “ I assure you, I mean you no harm.”
Jazlyn studied the man before her, then after a moment, smiled. “ I believe you.”
V nodded his head in response. “ Are you hungry?”
“ Yes, I'm starving, actually.” She answered.
“ I can whip you something up.” V offered, extending his arm.
“ Thank you, kind sir.” Jazlyn laughed softly as she placed her hand on his arm.
“ It is my honor, madameselle.” He covered her hand with his and led her away toward the kitchen.
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Lewis Prothero leaned forward and let his mouth pour over the microphone like honey in the broadcast center of Jordan Tower, the home of Norsefire's mouth.
“ Good morning, New London, it is now, six o' five on the morning of Friday, November 6th, in the Norsefire year of 2012, and this is the voice of Fate. This new day brings good news and encouraging prospects from overseas, where talks with New Russia are moving in a positive direction...”
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V sat on the sofa in the television room of the gallery listening to the first morning broadcast of Prothero's.
“ I'll never pause again, never stand still till death have closed these eyes of mine, or fortune give me measure of revenge...” (1) V quoted, measuring each word. “ Enjoy yourself, Commander, for everything comes to an end.”
“ Last night's terrorist bombing of New London's Big Ben, has now been linked to a growing underground movement to overthrow Chancellor Adam Sutler and the Norsefire government. The destruction of Big Ben is not to be confused with the scheduled demolition of the damaged government building that went off also last night without a hitch. Plans are immediately underway for new construction to begin at both sites within the next several weeks.”
V shut the television off. Walking down the adjacent hallway, he stopped and peered into Jazlyn's new bedroom. She was fast asleep, looking remarkably peaceful. V sigh, ' To be able to sleep like a child, ' he spoke softly under the mask, and pulled the door shut gently. There would be no peaceful sleep for him--just a few hours when need be--his vendetta was finally starting to take shape. There was still much planing and preparations yet to be made--no, his rest would come later, much, much later.
(1)Shakespeare's Henry VI
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