PS- Does anyone have any good V for Vendetta fic recommendations? I like reading it just as much as all of you, but no one has updated (cough Tree cough) or written stories longer than a one-shot. :-( Also, I would have updated yesterday, but that "timeout request" error kept popping up, it was driving me crazy!
VEvey has betrayed me.
I do not pretend to be surprised by this…although I am, in a way.
Surprised that she'd taken advantage of her first opportunity to get away from me? A man who, as far as she is concerned, kills at random in between launching attacks at the government- a madman, a lunatic with a death wish…?
No. Given Evey's childhood- if she had been telling me the truth- it's no wonder that she would appeal for help. I had expected to slip into the Abbey and find her in a room somewhere with a telephone, hurriedly trying to contact the police, or perhaps she would have tried talking with Dennis, the Bishop's right hand man. I had been prepared for her to betray me- I had been waiting for it.
After the way I have behaved, her fear of me would be expected. I hadn't meant to get so carried away with the "rehearsal" that had taken place in my bedroom. I hadn't meant to take it as far as I had, but once we had begun our performance, I had been unable to stop myself. Evey is a beautiful distraction from the Hell of my dreams and the witnessed corruption of real life.
She's been staying with me in the Gallery for the past few months, sharing her thoughts and ideas, her accomplishments and failures- she had always been beautiful to me, even when injured, even when disheveled from sleep. Truly, she is the only companion that I have ever known; the only one to see my home, to even know of my existence as a man.
Is it any small wonder that I'd come to think of her as my own?
The notion of owning Evey is dangerous- ownership implies possessiveness, which implies caring, and caring could be used against me. Suppose Creedy had somehow caught us on the way to the Abbey- if I was alone, I would either hide, continuing on to fight another day, or I would fight, and submit to death only once my hands had felt the bones of Creedy's neck snap apart…
But I am not alone anymore, and haven't been for several months now. Evey has been with me, exploring my home and presenting me with her perspective on life. If Creedy captured Evey- what would I do?
Evey…Has everything been a lie? Has this all been part of some plan of hers, to bring me into a false sense of security with her companionship, only to earn my indulgence for a little time outside the Gallery? In my mind, I can picture her running from me the moment she sees her chance- screaming that I'm a dangerous lunatic…
She should, after the way I have behaved. I myself cannot explain my actions, nor my own puzzling reaction to her response. I had seduced her purposefully- my original intent had been to just make her uncomfortable by bringing her to my personal space, and presenting her with the costume. Then, when I had returned to my room and saw her, I felt that it wasn't enough.
I know it wasn't the costume that moved me, perhaps it was seeing her beside my bed. I'm not sure what it was, but it was something I felt deep inside- a swelling in my chest, a pulling in the pit of my stomach. Behind the mask, my mouth had gone dry and my eyes had begun to water- it was the strangest sensation, and I can't understand it. I was silent for several moments, just staring at her and forcing the strange feelings to pass.
Once I was myself again, or as close as I could manage, I took Evey's hand and drew her into the circle of light that shone on the center floor of my room. I circled her to make sure that the costume fit properly and wasn't unbearably uncomfortable for her. She had said that she wanted to help. A bolt of anger shot through me at her lies, and I suddenly felt intense frustration from being so close to her.
My body had been tense with a frustration that I cannot explain- I had been angry with her, and I'd given over to my own pettiness by playing a mind games. Or, at least I'd told myself it was just a game. It had started off as such, by rehearsing. The rehearsal lasted a scant three minutes before I'd slipped back into myself and taken advantage of the opportunity before me.
I'd touched her skin, stroked through her hair…
I love her. I've used her. I want her. I've terrified her….
Evey could be the first woman to share my bed. Intercourse does not equate to lovemaking, and I had used my voice and hands to make love to Evey Hammond. Stating the fact seems trivial, possibly because I knew that my intent had never been to take her- I had been trying to force the secret out of her, what she was planning, why she truly wanted to help me all of a sudden.
I want Evey, but I had used her fear and perverse attraction to me against her; I seduced her in search of the truth behind all her lies. I felt sick to my stomach for hours afterward, sick with self-loathing…
I hadn't meant to hurt her, I hadn't meant to touch her and yet…and yet, I had done both. I had wanted her to feel safe and secure before morphing into the monster of Peter Liliman. I wanted to show her exactly who she would betray me for killing.
Was it worth it, Evey?
I had hated myself once I'd left my bedroom. There was a tension in my body that I'd almost forgotten was possible for me. I had wanted her, and hated myself for wanting what I knew was beyond my reach, hated her for being what I could not have.
From the corridor, I had heard her laughing to herself while she was still in my room. Had she been playing a game with me in all the time she'd been my guest? Every word from her deceitful tongue nothing but a bold-faced lie? I feel like such a fool for wanting to believe that she had found hope in what I am doing…
It was all a ruse.
Hundreds of my books are filled with stories of wicked women using their bodies to distract men and Evey is no different! She'd even dressed for the occasion of her greatest lie, the one she knew would matter to me the most. The dress had proved something of a distraction for a few fleeting moments, but I am nothing if not in perfect control of my body and mind.
Evey is not so blessed- every one of her expressions, every last minute nuance told me that she was lying. Eyes are windows to the soul, and in hers I saw what I had hoped never to see from her. She was hiding some great truth from me and putting forth too much effort in her attempt at sincerity.
I had expected her to betray me in some way, but not to him, never to him!
The need to apologize for what I'd done had been first in my mind, but after listening to Evey laugh to herself for several minutes on my bed, my sympathies began to wither. Even the sight of the bruises I'd made on her neck didn't move me from my anger.
You will betray me- fine then, betray me! It makes no difference, Evey, you'll just be one more amongst all the rest! You're nothing to me, you stupid, foolish girl!
I did not offer her an apology, I demanded that she ready herself for the night. Together, we had walked on to Westminster Abbey, where the good Bishop was waiting for his indulgence to be delivered, a welcome sendoff on his last night in England. His last night, period, if I had anything to do with it. I had walked Evey to the right door, hidden in shadows as that sniveling rat Dennis let her into the inner sanctum. He'd given her a thorough look up and down at the front threshold, pleased by her appearance. Perhaps he thought that when the Bishop was finished…
I wasted no time in finding my way up onto the roof, where I would wait for one of the windows to open. In all truth, I didn't really need Evey for any of this. I could have broken into the Abbey on my own, done away with Dennis and all the Bishop's other lapdogs, leaving him for last. I could have taken my time with each of them, slowly but surely returning God's faithful servants back to Him.
Whether by sly infiltration or just by storming the front door, I know that I could have ended the entire Abbey myself- the police would have been baffled at the result of my violence. Blood pooling from knife wounds, acidic vomit soaking into the lush carpets from my poison…
If I could have acted alone, if I knew that she'd been intending to betray me, why did I bother to involve Evey?
A test.
I wanted to know for sure what she intended to do. I had seen the uncertainty, the lie in her eyes. She had lied when she told me she wanted to help. The story of her family might have been a lie as well, but it doesn't matter one way or the other now. She is gone.
I had wanted to believe her, and in a small, foolish way, I still do.
I am no fool, I had known that something was amiss the moment she approached me after so long of a silence. She had been wearing the burgundy dress I'd provided. It was modest yet alluring, much like the woman herself. True, I had provided the garment, but I had not expected her to wear it for me so soon. In the hopes that all went according to plan, I had procured that dress with the vision in mind of the two of us dancing on the rooftop balcony to celebrate all I had done. I'd pictured Evey in my mind's eye, her face and hair lit by the fireworks as we watched Parliament burn to the ground.
What experience my former self had of women is lost to me now. I can't remember my own face, much less anything from my old life. I haven't the faintest clue of whether or not I'd had a wife, or children, if I'd had aa beautiful loverat the time when I was taken, or if I'd even been drawn to women in the first place. All traces of my life before Larkhill are simply gone.
Gone like Evey, vanished, stolen away from me.
The experience I've had of women since destroying Larkhill has been kept to the bare minimum- just the occasional friendly small talk with shop girls when I buy food while wearing one of several masks. So much time has been spent alone, building a safe haven, reclaiming the treasures of the past, planning toward the future…
For all intents and purposes, Evey is the first woman I've ever truly known, and thus, she has been the first to betray me. She'd worn the dress to tempt me, she'd pleaded her heart to coax me, all the while she'd been planning to betray me to the very tyrants that I was desperate to free her from.
Bloody, wretched girl!
"Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under 't."- what was true in Shakespeare's MacBeth is still true today!
I had been given only a moment's hope when I found the window unlocked. Perhaps our rehearsal in my bedroom had made her understand what a horrible world we live in, where a Bishop- a man of God!- could be so twisted, and actually be allowed to act on his sick urges!
I hadn't told Evey that our Peter Liliman was actually Bishop Liliman. This omission was completely deliberate; I wanted her to see for herself how deep the corruption went in this country. Perhaps once she realized where we were, who was waiting for her in the upstairs bedroom, I'd thought that it would strengthen her allegiance to me.
The window was left open and I slipped in. Dennis was dead before he hit the ground, and I'd noticed that he hadn't appeared troubled, in fact he'd been humming to himself and idly flipping througha magazine when I'd come in through the window.Evey hadn't said anythingto alarm him, then.
I heard Evey and the Bishop down the hall in one of the rooms, formerly used as small reception halls, now used for the Bishop's and other party members' games. What a den of sick sin, and right under the public's nose!
I could hear raised voices, and wasted no time in breaking down the door. Let her see the truth, let her see who is truly worthy of her trust! A pedophile Bishop lusting for her like a dog in heat, or the man that has saved her several times over without expecting a thing in return- save for her companionship. I broke down the door and rushed to stand between Evey and the Bishop. I wanted her to see the stark contrast between the two of us- one man an aging rapist, the other her masked friend.
I had been relieved to see that Evey was all right; the thought that the old lecher might actually have come close to his goal had twisted my stomach. Though timid and unsure of me, I knew that Evey would never submit to allowing herself to be violated- if for nothing else, she would fight to protect herself. From Liliman's stance, I knew that she had hit her mark. Good girl.
I turned to the Bishop. I'd seen Father Liliman in Larkhill with the children, most of them too weak with hunger to stop him…
Here was no Bishop before me, but the priest Liliman, the most sadistic of men- oh, this man and what he's done…I saw him through a blood-red haze, I saw the faces of all the children, so sick and weak, while he had his fun with them. To be generous, he'd toss an apple slice at them when he was through, to help them get past the taste; I'd seen him with Prothero, laughing as the children would scramble for the odd bit of food he would toss out, bringing out their savage instinct to survive.
There was one instance in which a pair of twelve-year-old twin boys, both mad with starvation, had killed each other over a slice of stale bread that Liliman had tossed between them. Neither boy ever tasted the bread, and the priest had only tutted at their sin of attempted gluttony, laughing with Prothero all the while.
This vengeance will be so satisfying that it will bring me to the edge of orgasm.
Ican see the fear in the priest's eyes, and relish in it. But then, he turned his eyes past me, to the disheveled Evey at my side. "Oh, God, she wasn't lying! It's you!"
That comment had taken me by surprise. When I'd first suspected that Evey would try to escape, I had assumed that she would try calling the police when she was in the Abbey and out of my sight. Maybe with someone's stolen cellular, or perhaps she would try appealing to Dennis- the man may have been a glorified errand-boy but he probably would have believed her if she'd told him that I was near, with the unyielding intent to kill anyone in the Abbey that stood between the Bishop and I.
The fact, the obvious, blatant truth that she had appealed to this false priest, this monster, had rocked me to the core.
Him, Evey? You've betrayed me to the very man I've sent you to distract? Did I not make myself clear during our rehearsal, when I told you exactly what sort of man this is?
He intended to rape you, Evey, as he has done to countless others! How could you do this to me? I've saved your life, I've given you shelter, attention, protection, everything I have to offer, I have given to you without a second thought! I've never asked anything of you- it was you who lied with your wish to help…Evey, why?
I'd thought…I'd wanted to believe…
I had been unable to say anything for several moments, all I could do was stare at her. She'd stuttered some false apology before running out of the room. I could have gone after her, I could have forced her to stay and made her watch me kill the Bishop, I could have ended her life with one of my blades- ensuring her eternal silence…but I did nothing.
Coward. Let her run!
I turned around to find the Bishop with a gun. Breaking his arm was simple, it was the rest- the Communion wafer, his pleadings and offers of money if I would only let him live that took the longest, giving me the greatest sense of satisfaction. Beg and plead, try to tempt me with some great sum of money, promise me women and a life spent in luxury, bed for mercy- you love the sound of your own voice, don't you Bishop? Well, I've been known to be quite talkative myself…
"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue…"
Yes! Yes, Bishop, die! I've seen the magic happen in Commander Prothero's shower stall- the bulging of the eyes, the convulsing of his body. The retching, heaving spasms; the faint gurgling sound as his stomach lining combined with the poisons and then began the most beautiful chemical reaction.
He'd long since been curled into the fetal position on my feet, and I wondered if this was the feeling he'd carried with him at all times as he visited the children's cell blocks, this feeling of complete power.
The lining of his stomach, shot through with scarlet trails of blood began to leak from his mouth, a mere trickle at first, but then the filth spewed forth- a bubbling, stinking ooze. How poetic- it was his evil that spewed forth from each orifice! The Bishop is inside-out now, nothing left for him but a rose.
I hear sirens in the distance, coming fast. Evey is very quick. I leave the Bishop's decadent room and don't bother with the open window. The front door is easy enough, the police are on their way but I have plenty of time to disappear without having to rush.
I had hoped to find Evey in the alley, terrified and waiting for me, but I am alone. If she had come to her sense and waited for me, I would have forgiven her. Naturally, I wouldn't let her out of the Gallery until after the fifth, but she would have been forgiven, andwe could've shared the truth- her about why she'd tried betrayingme to Liliman, and I would've told her of my great vandetta.
But thereshe is not waiting in any of the others rooms of the Abbey, nor is she waiting out in the alley. As I'd made my way home, I had held onto the pathetic hope that she mightalready be there, waiting for me- begging for my love and forgiveness. Stupid girl, stupid me! The Gallery is empty, I can sense it the moment I step in through the door.
I am alone.
It's just as well now, I suppose. Evey is gone- was she ever really here in the first place? I cannot say for sure, only that I must find her, and soon, before she is interrogated and then killed for her involvement with me. I hate her for her betrayal, but I love her enough that I will not sit by and allow them to kill her.
I love you Evey Hammond, and when I have you back, I will give you the most beautiful, most horrible thing in the world. I will grant you your wish and bring you to the point where you can live without fear. You will hate me for it, almost as much as you will love me in return. I will show you what it takes to find the last inch of yourself that has been buried so long by fear and oppression.
Yes, you will hate me, Evey, but you will love me.