DN:V For Vendetta

Rating: M

Category: Death Note

Genre: Drama/Romance

Pairing: Matt x Mello

Summary: A Death Note version of the movie of V For Vendetta but with a few changes and twists J

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or V for Vendetta

Characters:

V - Mello

Evey Hammond - Matt

Detective Chief Inspector Eric Finch - Touta Matsuda

High Chancellor Adam Sutler - Light

Gordon Deitrich - Beyond Birthday

Doctor Delia Surridge - Naomi Misora

Bishop Anthony James Lilliman - Lind L. Taylor

Peter Creedy - Takeshi Ooi

Detective Sergeant Dominic Stone - Reiji Namikawa

Valerie Page - Wedy (Mary Kenwood)

Lewis Prothero - Teru Mikami

Robert Dascombe - Arayoshi Hatori

Conrad Heyer - Suguru Shimura

Brian Etheridge - Kyosuke Higuchi

Chapter 1: Prelude

"Remember, remember, the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot." Those were almost the very first words he ever spoke to me and, in a way, that is where this story began, four hundred years ago, in a cellar beneath the houses of Parliament. In 1605, Guy Fawkes attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. He was caught in the cellars with enough gunpowder to level most of London, sometimes I wonder where we would be if he hadn't failed. I wonder if it would have mattered. I suppose the answer is in the rhyme. More than the man, what we must remember is the plot itself. For in the plot we find more than just a man, we find the idea of that man, the spirit of that man, and that is what we must never forget. This, then, is the story of that idea, of that spirit that began with an anarchist's plot four hundred years ago. I was born near the end of the millennium, the year 1997. My father used to say that people were so afraid that the world was going to end that they were willing it to happen. I don't remember much of the century's turn. I don't remember the market crash or the plague or any of the Trafalgar riots. I've read about them since but I don't recall how any of them impacted my life except for the fear. They would hide it from me, like a secret between them. But I could feel it…Of the chaos that seemed to swallow the beginning of the 21st century, there is one thing I do remember…Very clearly, I can remember that sound. We could all hear them, hundreds of marching soldiers. And I remember those boots, black leather that gleamed bright in the morning sun. I had never seen such boots. All moving in perfect unison. My family and I went outside to see the cause of the hundreds of soldiers, only to find a political rally taking place just down the street. These soldiers were part of a new political party, a party calling itself 'Norsefire".

I remember sitting on my father's shoulders as a young man takes his place at a podium on a stage. Only now do I know the man's name was Arayoshi Hatori, head of the party's propaganda division. He cleared his throat to gain the attention of the crowd that the soldiers had drawn out. There were various television cameras pointed at the man on the stage as he was about to address all of London

"The time has come, London, to return to a bygone age, an age of tradition, an age of values that have been disparaged and all but forgotten. What this country needs is a leader! A true leader to remind us of that age. A righteous leader with the strength of his moral convictions to do what must be done. I give you that man! I give you our leader! Adam Sutler!" as on cue Adam Sutler made his way on stage as the crowd cheers. I'll never forget the terrified looks on my parent's faces that day… It must have seemed so easy to Sutler and the rest of Norsefire. They offered such a simple deal; give up control and we will restore order. Needless to say, they won the election.

At first, the arrests were political. Dissidents. Radicals. Liberals. When my parents were younger, they had been activists. They had marched with Labour in the great train strike.

(Flash Back)

A loud crash of splintering wood woke me up and the sound of heavy boots swarmed through my house.

"Mummy?" I asked in barely a whisper. A heavily armed soldier burst through my bedroom door and before I knew it, I was scooped up in to the soldiers arms and carried through the dark house that was filled with soldiers, and into the living room where I saw my parents on the floor, their arms bound together with plastic zip-ties.

"My son! Don't take my son!" my mother pleaded with them. I didn't understand what was happening.

"Matt! Matt!" my father called to me. I looked at him with tears threatening to spill over.

"Mummy! Daddy!" I cried as the soldiers pulled black hoods over their heads as another soldier carried me out of the house.

(End Of Flash Back)

I never saw them again. Overnight, my life, my entire world was erased. It was done so quickly and violently, so completely, that it began to seem that it had never even existed. I was taken to an orphanage that was run by nuns, where I grew up being beaten if I voiced an idea that was not part of their ideals. The homosexuals were next. What God had started with AIDS had to be finished by man. It was God's work. That's what we were told. But once they were gone, there was someone else. Someone different. Someone dangerous. There were those who understood what was happening, who knew it was wrong but who kept silent. And in the vacuum of that silence, order was imposed. Order that was like those boots, order that required rigorous discipline. Order that is exactly the same, where each single step falls with every step. The order of the many shaped into one. Somehow in my heart, I knew it wouldn't last. What they thought they had crushed, the spirit they believed trampled and ground beneath the marching of their boots, rose up, rose as if from a four hundred year old grave, rose to remind us all that day…