Oh my, a chapter two up quite this fast? I must be mad. Chapter three hopefully forthcoming soon.
He sighed as he opened the door to the Gallery. He had picked off a couple more of the straggling Norsefire members today in what would look like an accident to anyone investigating. Such a shame, they would say, such a shame for them both to have been on that bridge as it collapsed into the icy waters below, and how lucky no-one else had been on it at the same time.
He smiled beneath his mask, Evey was safe from two more plotters. His smile faded, though, as he thought of her, he had kept up with the news in his hidden home and had been worried when he heard that Party Spokesman Evey Hammond had been declared missing. At first he had entertained the thought that she might have returned here, but so far he hadn't seen hide nor hair of her. From what he learned from the two who had died today, Norsefire had nothing to do with it
V sighed again, she had done what he had hoped and organised the new world, whenever he had seen her on the telly she had looked vibrant and glowing with passion and he had ached to see her in person once more, but he refused to allow it. The temptation would be too great, he believed, it was better that she believed he had died. She needed to concentrate on her new life, not wallow in history. He would remain in the shadows and make sure that she was allowed to do so.
He looked around the main room, sensing something subtly different about the place. His gaze fell upon the kitchen table, no, all was right there. It was just something… indefinable, he decided before sighing. It was probably just his imagination. Calmly he sat down the couch and switched on the news, perhaps the 'accident' would be mentioned, or perhaps there was some more news of his Evey.
"The search for spokeswoman Evey Hammond continues into its fifth day," sad the woman on the screen, "I'm standing right now in Miss Hammond's apartment where police are searching for any clues as to her whereabouts." V tuned the woman out and instead allowed his eyes to follow the camera, sub-consciously looking for any sign of his Eve. He was a little surprised by the sparseness of her home, there was her coat, thrown over a chair, but there were no other indications that anyone even lived there. It wasn't a home at all.
His attention snapped back to the reporter as she finished her piece, "Colleagues have reported that Miss Hammond was suffering signs of depression before her disappearance, whether this has any bearing on the case in question is still to be determined. Laura Hanley, BBC News."
V leaned back on the couch. Depression? Not his Evey, she'd hadn't looked depressed… He cursed himself silently, if he hadn't been so determined on protecting himself, he might have seen her as she truly was, not the graven image that was lauded by the land. A hand drifted to his temple as he flicked the TV screen off and watched the blank screen as it crackled with left over static.
There! The subtle change leapt out at him now that he had noticed it, how had he not seen it before? Two quick steps brought him to the cabinet where the empty video case sat. He was usually so meticulous when it came to things being in their proper spot. But what was on the tape, his hand pressed the eject button, and with a whir and a groan, he could see the title. He paused in shock, either he had watched this film in his sleep (and the last time he remembered seeing it was many months ago, it brought up too many painful memories), or she was here. Standing upright, he immediately strode through the rooms, looking for any sin of his one-time guest. He tried her old room first, he hadn't touched it since she'd disappeared from his life, as if leaving her hand to be the last to touch the bed, the door, would make it easier for her to return.
The room was empty, and he felt the first glimmering of doubt, but he brushed it away, it had to be her, no-one else knew where his hide-out was, no one else would watch that particular film and just leave.
For the first time since he arrived home, he used his voice, "Evey? Evey! I know you're here will you come out?" It felt like some perverse game of hide and seek. He went through the rooms methodically until he was back in the main room. She wasn't here.
Hands trembling, he cursed himself, had she really been here? Was he going mad? He sincerely hoped not, but the wish to see Evey here, safe, was too much, perhaps he was imagining it.
Tired steps led him to the alcove where grew his roses. Their original purpose gone now, they merely provided him with vivid life in his lifeless home. His thoughts still firmly on Eve, he picked up the secateurs and placed them on the shelf that was their home.
It took him a moment to realise what he had done, and he looked at the gardening shears in wonder, he hadn't cut a rose in a year, why…
And realisation came, insidiously, one of the roses was cut, sheared off, leaving only the cross section of the moist green stem. She had been here, and she intended… He couldn't bring himself to put it into words. Urgency giving him strength he hadn't known existed, he re-searched the house, making sure no corner was left untouched, he even went up to the balcony, stories above, but she wasn't there. He was alone in the softly falling rain. Ah, but realisation hadn't done with him yet, and the rain made him think of her prison. He hadn't gone into that space since she had come out of it, he had hated himself as she had hated him, except that he wasn't sure he'd entirely forgiven himself.
His steps slower now, scared of what might be revealed, he entered the grey-walled prison and the small cell in which she had been held and made, all those months ago…
She lay, as still as death, and twice as cold, and his heart broke.
I'm not so sure I like this chapter. But nevertheless, I hope you do :)