"What if you could wish me away …?"
A flurry of papers were thrown into the air and scattered across the floor where they were unremorsefully stepped on. An insignificant thing … An old printer hummed and spat out page after page after page. Piles and stacks sat upon the desk, soon to join their brethren on the floor. An angry cry rent the air and sure enough, more pages littered the floor where black boots trod all over them. It was the same damned equation again! It never changed! A far away memory, dying in his mind was immortalized on a page. Black eyes scanned over it quickly before another bout of rage filled him and V gripped a handful of pages in an angry fist and threw it all to the ground. If only it was that easy to forget … If only it was that easy to forget …
*****
A calmer figure stood upon a roof, watching the sun set in a pool of crimson and burnt orange hues. The sky looked to be on fire and V's black silhouette was stark against the bright light. The breeze was warm and swayed his cloak around his ankles. It had been an incredibly long time since he had found any kind of enjoyment from such an intangible spectacle. But this time, he felt it symbolized so much, encompassed so much in its dying rays of light; the nearby shadows were just waiting to swallow it up. With the embers burning out, so too did everything else inside him, no matter how complex the circumstances he had placed himself in. And oh, was it ever complicated. Nothing added up anymore – the dates, the numbers, and the transpiring events of so many months prior. A despondent sigh passed from the slit in the mask's mouth. Time was ever too slow for those who waited … He stood for a long time atop the roof with his head bowed, the light still shining through the blackness of the mask's eyes and through his closed lids. He could faintly feel it before a soft cold took its place and the sun, at last, vanished beneath the world once more. So did all of his hopes and aspirations but, unlike the sun, they would not be returning with the new dawn … and neither would he.
Raising his head, V stepped near the edge and from the folds of his cloak he brought forth a tiny object – a silver ring that stood out starkly against the black leather of his palm. It symbolized completion and incorruptibility, so had it said in the letter. Such a pure element was never meant to stay in his possession anyway. He held his hand aloft and dropped it to the depths below. It wouldn't have been the first time a ring was cast aside like a fistful of dead roses … The night would come and with it the prelude to his irrevocably doomed fate.
There was much planning to be made before the end.