I now present to you the first chapter, the start of Vanessa's story. The proper start. I wrote this part a while ago so am only publishing it now...*hangs head*

Anyway, here you go...

I

I remember the night it all started. Like every other November, the night was cold and windy; the trees tossing their branches up and down outside the window of my bedroom. We lived in a red-brick flat at the time, Mum and I, at number 23 East Street. It was small, but comfortable. It contained a bedroom each for my mother and I, as well as a kitchen, living room, and bathroom. My room was my haven. There was a loose floorboard under my bed which I could lift up and hide things.

I didn't know much about my dad. According to my mother (who worked as Lewis Prothero's 'prized' PA at Jordan Towers), he had left when I was two years old. I don't have any memory of him, but maybe it's better that way. It gives me freedom to remember the things that are important to me.

Like that particular night of November the 4th.

"And as we make sure that we all indeed remember, the upcoming fifth of November…." Chancellor Adam Sutler's voice droned out of the television, his face filling the whole screen. "This is to be a night that will go down in history…"

"As if we haven't heard all that before." I muttered. The man always found something to rant and rave about.

My mother shook her head at me. "You know that he's only doing what he has to, Vanessa" She reached for the remote and turned the volume a couple of notches up.

I didn't answer to that. It wasn't my mother's fault that her job put words in her mouth for her.

"You want to know what I think? You're listening to my show, so I assume that you do…"

I grabbed the remote and hit the mute button. "That's enough of that."

"What time is it?" I got up off the couch and looked at the clock. Eleven o'clock at night. I glanced at my reflection in the small mirror above the fireplace. Same green eyes, like cat's, same dark brown hair, long and straight. It was just enough of a reassurance to see the same girl staring back at me. The government hadn't changed that, at least. Not yet.

"Time you were in bed. And so was I." Mum yawned, getting to her feet, and coming over to give me a hug. "Goodnight, Ness."

"Night, Mum."

I'm not sure if I slept or not. I think I must have, but suddenly, I jerked awake. I listened. Was that…music?

I shook my head to wake myself up. It was. I could definitely hear it now; it was getting louder with every second. Classical music. And it seemed to be emitting from the loudspeakers on the street.

Stumbling out of bed and into the hallway, my mother's expression mirrored mine of shock and amazement. "What on earth's going on?"

As I opened the front door, I could see that we weren't the only ones on the street. Our neighbours, and others I had never met before spilled out onto the pavement to listen to the music. The sound of the music was almost deafening, when suddenly –

Screams split the air as the Old Bailey exploded.

My breath caught in my throat and I could only stare as the music reached another crescendo. I could practically feel the earth shake under my feet as the flames from the explosion reached into the night sky, as if attempting to devour the moon and the stars along with it. Fireworks began to shoot upwards into the air, while, along with everyone else, I stood, transfixed at the sight of them.

Especially when the fireworks shot upwards, forming a V in the sky.

In a strange sort of way, I found the whole process beautiful.

I carefully shoved open my bedroom window, trying not to make a sound as I first inched one leg out, then another. My mother was, hopefully, still asleep. I didn't know why, but for some reason, something was telling me to get out of the house for a while. An insistent voice in the back of my head overrode all the warnings and signs I had heard or seen over those past few months. Keep away. A yellow-coated curfew is now in effect. Out of order. Yes, I did know the rules, but they weren't necessarily ones that I wanted to obey.

I walked down the cold, grey London pavement, my senses on high alert as every shadow, every movement, threatened to engulf me. Part of me wondered how on earth I could be so reckless. There might be Fingermen waiting for me around the next corner, ready to grab me. The digits of my watch shone in the dark. Nearly five o'clock in the morning. Curfew wasn't lifted until another hour. I wasn't sure where I was going, or even why, but in that moment, I had never felt so alive. Not since–

"Watch where you're going, missy. We don't want no trespassers here."

The sound of that cool, husky voice rooted me to the spot in sudden terror. Why had I been so stupid? I cursed, hardly daring to breathe.

Large hands grabbed my arm, pulling me round to face a bright beam of torchlight, shone straight into my eyes. "Well well, what have we here?"

"Probably a stray." They laughed then, with course, rough voices.

Fingermen. An icy feeling of fear washed over me. I knew exactly who, or what they were. And what they did to girls like me.

"Let me go." It took every ounce of my willpower to not scream in terror.

The man who had grabbed me now pinned both my hands behind my back. "You look familiar." His face came closer to mine, along with the almost overpowering scent of tobacco. "Ain't you Patricia's daughter? Think I've seen you round before."

"I–" I tried hard to conquer my fear. "Yes. That's me."

The other two men glanced at each other, as if uncertain of what to do next. I quickly decided to use this time to my advantage. "My mother is Lewis Prothero's personal assistant. If you do anything to me, they'll find out. And they won't be very happy with you. They'll have every one of you executed!"

"Oh, don't worry, darling." I suppressed a shudder as the taller of the other two men placed his hands on my waist, leaning in closer to whisper. "We won't harm you. We just want to teach you a lesson."

A blinding flash of adrenaline rushed through me. I kicked out at the man in front of me, at the same time using all my strength to twist out of the other one's grasp, and then hitting him in the face, breaking his nose with my hand. He gave a howl of pain. "You little bitch!"

I think I screamed then. And froze as I felt a hand over my mouth, and my arms being locked together with the iron grip of the third Fingerman. And I couldn't ignore the cold feeling of a metal something pressed against my back. "Just do what we tell you, and nobody gets hurt."

And that was when I first saw him. Standing in the shadows, the white grin of the mask almost glowing in the darkness. Tall and upright.

I could feel him looking at me.

The voice came out of the shadows where he stood, before any of the Fingermen had the chance to turn around.

"I shall vanquish each and every one of you, and therefore will be valiant. For each of us has our own vendettas that take over our values and views, however this villainy is not one of them."

"What the bloody hell are you on about, pal?" asked the first Fingerman aggressively.

I saw his black, gloved hands flash out on either side, in which he held a pair of sharp, silver swords.

"If I were each one of you, I would plan a final valediction." His voice hissed through the air, like snakes waiting to strike.

Suddenly, the air was a blur of silver flashes, a flapping blackness and a red, thick liquid that I knew was the men's blood. I pressed myself flat against the wall as I heard the screams of the Fingermen and ominous slashing and cracking sounds. And the heavy thuds as their bodies hit the ground.

Suddenly, there was silence. I carefully stood up, my legs shaking slightly, and looked at the masked man, who was calmly standing in front of me.

"Are you all right?" He sounded concerned.

I nodded, finding it hard to speak, trying hard not to look at the bodies of the dead men on the ground. "Who are you?"

"Who? Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask."

I couldn't help but feel that this wasn't the first time he had said that to someone. Instead, I could only stare at him.

"It's my very great pleasure to meet you." The masked man gave a slight bow and extended his gloved hand for me to shake. "You may call me V."

I tentatively shook his hand. "I'm Vanessa."

"Yes. Vee–nessa." V surveyed me for a moment, then murmured, "Strange. How very strange…"

"What's strange?" I asked him, thinking that this, this whole meeting with him, was the strangest thing that had ever happened to me.

"It is strange that, not five hours ago, I met another young woman in the same position as yourself, called Evey. Cornered by Fingermen down a dark alley." He paused, as if thinking. "Where do you live? You should be getting home."

"Number 23 East Street." I said, stepping out into the light of the early morning, beside V. "I couldn't sleep after the fireworks and all the explosions last night, and I had to get out of the house."

"Ah yes, the grand orchestra. Accompanied by the finest sounds of 1812 Overture, by Tchaikovsky. Do you like music, Vanessa?"

Did I like music? What was this, Twenty Questions?

I nodded. "Sure. Well, of course I do."

V seemed satisfied. "You are one of the few people in this country who appear to have any sense at all. There are many who simply do not appreciate the small wonders that London has to offer. Yet again, there is something terribly wrong with this country, is there not?"

Glancing up at the sky, I was alarmed to see that it had suddenly grown lighter. It also dawned on me that I hadn't thanked V for rescuing me. "I'd better be going home now. Don't want my mother reporting that I've been abducted by a man in a mask." I smiled slightly, in spite of myself. "And thank you, V, for what you did."

V looked as if he was smiling, too. "The pleasure, I can assure you, is all mine."

Feel V to leave a review :D (do you see what I did there? Get it?)