Just Curious

"What does it feel like?"

V finally fell asleep with that question resounding in his head. In the dark of his mind he did not dream, only heard a distant voice repeating the same words. Before dawn he was awake and the first thing to demand his attention was an already familiar arrangement of letters;

"What does it feel like?"

So plain, so simple. Yes, it was a very reasonable question, one he asked often.

It was still early and he wanted to stay right in his room, at least for a short while. He had work to do but not yet, not yet. He lay in his bed, looking up at the ceiling, trying to find the answer to that question somewhere in those faint lines up there.

It was natural to be curious, he reminded himself. He certainly was and the benefits were obvious. His curiosity knew no boundaries; he wanted to know what made everything move. He wanted to know every word and every reason.

V didn't want to see her. He didn't want to be in the same room with her, not when she could ask such horrible questions.

"What does it feel like?"

Her lips smiled but her eyes were a mystery, and he didn't know which told the truth. He should have left the room that very instant but he couldn't, he just stayed there, unable to escape his interrogator.

V should have remembered how it worked; there were those who would beat you, starve you, humiliate you, rape you, keep you awake for days and you'd think they were the worst you'd ever seen in your whole life.

They were there just to soften you up before the real thing.

Then the real nightmare would begin; the one with real talent would come to turn you inside out and strip you of everything you had left. After that you would not be of any use, except perhaps as fertilizer.

"What does it feel like?"

That one wouldn't hurt you; that would not be necessary any longer. No, the one who could find even the last secret of your soul and tear it away from you wasn't even similar to the others; the skill was in not letting you see it coming.

The devil spoke with a soft voice and played the role of the innocent.

You would be so desperate to cling to anything even remotely human that the faintest trace of warmth would be your downfall.

"What does it feel like?" Evey asked again, with that casual smile and her cold eyes and he knew he could not answer her question. He should have known better.

"V, What does it feel like when you kill people?"