Okay, here it is. Chapter two! I hope you like^^

Chapter 2

The days blurred together into a neverending cascade of pain, fear and pure agony. Evey had no idea how long she had been in this dark, damp cell, her body only covered by a dirty orange rag, her head shaven and bruised, her whole body covered with cuts and bruises, how many times Creedy's men had asked the same questions, fed her this disgusting slime they called "food" or beat her at every opportunity they got. Evey lost all track of time, mostly she didn't even know if it was day or night, while she rested her hurt body on the freezing floor of her cell.

Each passing moment was like a new eternity of agony. Her chest ached with every breath she shakily took, her feet could hardly support her weight anymore, her frame, once clearly seen as that of a woman, grew thinner and thinner, until she imagined she could count her vertebrae if she wanted to.

Constantly she was at war with herself, part of her wanting so badly to just give Creedy what he wanted and be left to die, while the other part of her insisted that she couldn't betray V like that. He had only tried to protect her by hiding her while trying to make her see the truth, the least she could do now was to keep silent about the Shadow Gallery.

But it was just so hard. Most of the time she told herself to keep silent, to not say anything, so often indeed that it started to become a Mantra to her, something she constantly repeated to remind herself that she'd not give in. Not even for her life. The lengths she was about to travel to not reveal V surprised her. She knew it could be that they killed her, at this point it probably was a certainty, and yet it wouldn't bother her as much as if she would live because she sold V to Creedy.

Each and every time someone entered her cell, it promised a new dimension of pain, a new way to break her. Mostly they resorted to brute violence, kicking and beating her until she almost fell unconcious. Permanentely she could smell and taste her own blood, crusting on her clothes and skin; so often the smell followed her even into her fitful dreams and slowly tore her sanity apart. Perhaps this was the reason why V hated Norsefire so passionately, perhaps he had been put through similar things. And if Evey was honest with herself, she began to understand his hate. She began to understand why he wanted to topple the regime, why he wanted England to be free of them again. She began to understand him better, because she could feel the growing disdain within her own soul. She had known long before that Norsefire was a bad government, but had succumbed in silent fear, afraid they could make her dissappear the way they had gotten rid of her entire family. And where had that led her? She had been blackbagged anyway, was tortured for information she refused to give up, may heaven itself know the real reason why.

V had tried to make her see, had tried to make her understand his motive, but Evey had been too scared to accept this hideous truth. She had realised that she wasn't as strong as V and her fear had driven her to betray him for that accursed priest, Bishop Lilliman.

Now, as she had time to ponder on all these events, she started to believe that maybe Lilliman had deserved his fate, had done something to warrant V's anger and death by his hand. Maybe Prothero had deserved it also. And she hoped, just a small, frail hope deep within her, that V could one day forgive her what she had done.

Oh V, you were right all along. There is something terribly wrong with this country...

Why hadn't she believed him? He had never given her any reason to distrust him, had always been kind and chivalrous to her, sat for hours and watched movies with her, gave her access to the immense amounts of knowledge blacklisted by Sutler. And all he had wanted in return was a little trust, just a little bit, only enough to ensure her he wouldn't harm her.

Choking back a dry sob, Evey turned her sore head into the bony crook of her elbow, staring into the darkness ahead of her. Even if she still had the emotional strength to cry, she lacked the physical ability to do so. She was dehydrated, had cried for uncounted hours, her lips were chapped and chaved, she dimly knew her body used all the remaining energy to keep her alive. She shouldn't waste it by crying.

Yet, even though her body was close to giving in and let it all be over with, her mind worked with terrible speed and accuracy. Evey thought of V, did he even know she was imprisoned by the Finger? And if he knew, would he even care about it? Would he be concerned or would he think that she deserved this fate?

Certainly you deserve this... a calm voice emanated inside her head, as clear and solid as if the spokesperson kneeled directly next to her ear. And the accusation swinging along with it was also very clear and true. Evey had deceived V, the same man who saved her life twice.

See? You deserve his hate... the voice spoke again.

Am I giong insane now? Hearing voices that aren't really there?

Perhaps you are Evey...

Weakly Evey cracked a humorless smile. Of course she was going crazy, who would remain sane under these circumstances? Evey single moment more she spent in this hellhole made her slip a little closer towards insanity, with every blow she took, each time they kicked her or shoved her head into a bucket filled with icy water, her wall cracked a little more, her mind and coherent thought with it slipped a little further from her grasp.

And if that voice was to be her only company aside from being relentlessly questioned and tortured, Evey would gladly go crazy, would allow that voice to talk with her, if it promised a moments reprieve from this agony. Would accept insanity if it meant hearing someone not asking about V.

But thats the problem, isn't it Evey? You'd think about him anyway. Creedy is right, its only a matter of time before you break down and tell them all they want to know.

The voice was cruel but she had a point. It was only a matter of time. Another choked sob escaped Evey's dry and cold lips and shook her frail and bruised frame. She didn't want V getting into trouble. Seemingly his plan had been flawless before she had come along and crossed his path. The very least she could do now was to not reveal him because of the vague promise of freedom under Norsefire's wing.

Just because they promised doesn't mean they will keep it...

True again. The probability was high that she would die here anyway. And if she told them what she knew, V and his cause would die alongside her and this country would wither to ashes. He would be forgotten and with him all he stood for.

"What should I do?" Evey asked aloud, though barely above a whisper, whispering into the stillness around her.

Dont tell them. The voice whispered back, calm and oddly soothing.

For a moment Evey imagined the voice to belong to V, yet also to herself. A strange mixture of sounds. And with that thought came the memory of V, how he moved, spoke, gestured, breathed, even the way he sat and read a book, completely motionless, yet aware to everything around him. Happily Evey remained in the memory of the masked man dwelling underneath London.

The way he had held out his hand and asked her if she were all right after he had saved her life from the Fingermen.

However, the sound of heavy footfalls approaching her door shook her out of this pleasant reverie and she was thrown back into the harsh, cold reality. Surely this was another one of her torturers, coming to hurt her a little more, push her a little closer to the edge of breakdown in the hope that she would finally fall apart and yield.

Be strong Evey. Just don't tell them... the voice whispered to her again, comforting and strengthening and Evey silently vowed to remain silent. Even if it would cost her her life itself.

A viscious kick to her stomach made her cough and cringe in pain, but of course it was only the overture. The whole bloody symphony had only started.

Another set of kicks and blows showered down upon her and the now familiar taste of blood returned. Coughing violently, so hard it made her fear her chest would explode, Evey spat a mouthful to the ground and chose to focus solely on the voice in her head, real or not, that still whispered to her, still soothed her.

I know it hurts Evey. But be quiet. Don't betray him further.

Evey had no idea why, but the voice was right, she couldn't betray V any further. She wouldn't betray him again. Not caring anymore if he hated her or not, if he searched her or not, if he cared or not, Evey pushed everything aside and only listened to the voice while the kicks and punches made her lose any other feeling than sheer agony.

It had taken V a full count of 10 days to locate the precise position of Evey and develop a plan to get her out. Every moment that had passed since her capture, V expected his alarm systems to go off, alerting him about someone straying too close to the Gallery. But the whole time the system had remained silent. Upon making sure that little Evey was indeed still alive it only meant one possible explanation.

She had not told them, had not broken yet and revealed his home.

And with each hour that passed and his location remained hidden, V had realized that even though they tortured his Evey, she had refused to give them information.

She refused to betray him.

The knowledge of that served as his fuel to keep him going and focused, assured him that it was the right course to save Evey from the clutches of Creedy and his men. Dimly and quietly he acknowledged to himself that he would be forced to save her anyway, no matter what she did. May the Lord himself know why it had happened now, but he couldn't bear the thought of Evey getting hurt. He'd much rather die for her than have it the other way around.

He could very well imagine the things she was put through and the mere thought unleashed a wrath never before encountered. He longed to deal a deadly hand to the ones that dared harm his Evey.

Grimly he shook his head silently, willing his thoughts away from the vision of Evey bleeding and in pain, forcing himself to focus on the information he had gathered, concentrating on the plan he had worked out for her escape by his hands.

The place where they kept her was a little outside the Quarantine Zone, but close to underground tunnels leading into the maze beneath London. It was not big and as far as he could gather, Evey was the only prisoner held there at the moment.

The Fingermen would be lured away by a little distraction he would cause by the chemical sheds and while they were preoccupied, he would sneak in and reclaim Evey. And kill anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross his path.

Unimaginable hatred filled him as he heard some of the guards speak about his dear Evey. He had secretly bugged several of the guards and they served as his unknowing accomplices. Granting him the access he needed to save Evey.

These guards leered in sick pleasure about the amount of torture Creedy had ordered they put on Evey, not only beating her or hurting her physically to cause her to reveal any knowledge, but also starving her and weakening her, and using her weakness as an opportunity to touch his Evey very inappropriately. Hearing this, he vowed to vanquish them from the face of the earth.

How dare they lay hands on that which is fairest under moon and sun!

V could hear the sickening pleasure they received out of taking Evey in the most primal of manners. He could feel his muscles twitching in unreleased wrath, wishing he could kill them all, make them suffer before they died, pleading for death to escape the neverending pain dealt by him and in the end, they would perish, they would look up to his mask and receive their wish.

But not all would perish tonight. Tonight his goal was Evey.

Enraged V turned away from the voices and took a deep breath in a vain attempt to still the rage daring to overtake him and diminish all rational thought. Setting his thoughts on the plan for tonight he set his hat atop his head, smiling grimly behind Guy Fawkes fake and everlasting grin.

Death came for Creedy's men tonight, it lurked in the shadows and V was its vessel.

Silently he left the Shadow Gallery, blurring into the very darkness around, while he hurried through the tunnels, a figure moving swiftly, deadly predator and creature of night itself, bent on one goal only.

To reclaim the light of his dark existance.

Hold out a little more, dearest Evey. I am coming for you...

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