Hey everyone! Sorry it's taken me a while to update, but a little thing called school has kept me very busy, but holidays start in a few days, so yay! Anyway, hope that this chapter lives up to your expectations (or exceeds them, whichever) so, here you go…

IV

"Now, Vanessa, what would you like to do?"

I stared round the large 'living room' (I couldn't really call it that, as it looked more like a museum than actual living space), then at V. "Well, I don't know." I paused for a few seconds, thinking. "What do you usually do?"

"Many things, my dear." V crossed the room to where a black leather sofa stood opposite a flat-screen TV. Then, almost shyly, he asked, "Would you like to watch television?"

I nodded, smiling at him as I made for the sofa and sat down. "I'd love to. As long as there's something good on. Daytime TV usually sucks."

V flicked the set on, and sat next to me. The set blared into life, showing that the news was on.

"…have the latest news on the terrorist attack at Jordan Towers, where not twenty-four hours ago, an attack occurred. The terrorist, who is identified as a man wearing a Guy Fawkes mask with the code name V, began the attack when, after breaking into Jordan Towers, he launched a broadcast across the whole of London. It was thought that, shortly after, the terrorist was shot and killed, however, new information has been released that he is still alive. "

"Let's find something else to watch." V lifted the remote to change the channel, but I stopped him. "Wait." And stared at the TV.

Because there on the screen behind the newsreader, was a photo of me.

Me.

Vanessa Breigon.

"It is believed that the terrorist, when escaping from Jordan Towers, has allegedly kidnapped sixteen year-old Vanessa Breigon. The teenager, daughter of Patricia Breigon, who works at the Towers as Lewis Prothero's personal assistant was seen at Waterstone's bookshop, at least half an hour before her disappearance."

Every fibre of my being had gone numb with shock. I gazed at the photo of me. It was taken about three months ago, and showed my mother and I, taken when we went out to dinner for her birthday. Our arms round each other, smiling at the camera. It seemed like years and years ago.

"If you know the whereabouts of Vanessa, or have any information regarding her disappearance, please call the number of the police station at the bottom of the screen, as her family is desperate for news."

The screen zapped into silence. I seemed to have lost the inability to speak.

"Oh my God."

V turned round to glance at me. "I can assure you, my child, that this is not as bad as you may think."

I stared at him in indignation. "Not as bad as I may think? V–" I turned and gestured towards the now-silent TV screen, "–they think I've been bloody kidnapped!"

'What's going on?" Evey emerged from the hallway, toweling her hair dry.

"They think I've being kept as hostage by V!" I gasped, as suddenly, a memory flashed into my head. What was it I had said to V, after he had saved me that night? I'd better be going home now. Don't want my mother reporting that I've been abducted by a man in a mask. "What will they do to me, and to all of us, if they find that we're here?"

"Vanessa." V's voice pulled me back to reality. "I can guarantee you that right now, there is a lot worse that could happen. You're safe here. I very highly doubt that they will be able to find this place. And if they do, I can assure you that you would be the least of my worries."

"But what about my mother?" I whispered, getting a mental image of her receiving a phone call that told her that I was presumed to be dead, sobbing uncontrollably with grief.

"At least she seems to know you're still alive." Evey said, in a soft tone. "Think yourself lucky that you even have a mother. I lost both my parents when I was younger."

"Oh Evey, I'm so sorry."

She shrugged, smiled slightly, and shook her head. "Don't be."

Later that afternoon, both Evey and I found that we were alone (well, not technically) in the Shadow Gallery. V had gone out to God knows where, stating that he had some 'unfinished business' to take care of. After a few minutes of drifting aimlessly about, wondering what to do, I decided to look round for some pencil and paper, and see if I could draw one of V's sculptures dotted round the room. And while I was stuck here, what else would I be able to do?

But I didn't find myself drawing a sculpture after all. The pencil seemed to have a life of its own, moving across the paper as if quickly trying to capture every single detail of my mother's face before it all vanished from memory. I drew her hair, repeatedly dyed a golden-brown colour every few months to hide the grey that seeped out of her roots. I drew her blue eyes that smiled out of the paper at me, the faint wrinkled lines on her forehead and mouth (laughter lines, as she called them), and the curve of her shoulders.

I didn't even realize that Evey was standing behind me, until she spoke. "That's so good."

I turned round in surprise, just the tiniest but pleased. "Thanks. It's my mother."

Evey studied the picture. "You look just like her."

"Apart from her eyes. I have my dad's eyes." Or so I had been told. "And the wrinkles, and the grey hair."

Evey laughed, coming to sit beside me. "But she looks really young. She doesn't have grey hair!"

"She does! She dyes it every few months or so. I'm surprised that Prothero doesn't just buy her as many bottles of hair dye as she wants and be done with it." We were both laughing.

Evey sighed. "I wish that both my parents were still alive. I'd give anything to have them here one last time."

"What…happened to them, if you don't mind me asking?" I choose my words carefully.

She sighed, and it was a few moments before she answered. "They became political, after my brother died at St Mary's."

St Mary's. The name sent a chill down my spine. I remember learning about it in History last year at school.

"They enlisted me to help hand out flyers as more and more people were fighting and getting killed every day." she continued. "One night, they came for us. My mother told me to hide under the bed, then the next second, they burst into the room and zipped a black bag over her head. I couldn't help it, then. I screamed, and they found me."

I listened in a horrified silence, hardly daring to say, And then what?

"I never saw them again, after that." Evey finished, staring into space as if relieving the memory. "It was like those black bags erased them from the face of the earth."

"Evey–" I didn't know what else to say.

She turned to look at the drawing again. "But you've still got your mother, Vanessa. And I just want to tell you that, when we eventually get out of here, you have to promise me that you'll make the most of every moment with her."

I nodded. "Promise."

Even I couldn't think that far just yet, but Evey seemed satisfied. And the two of us passed the time talking and drawing, until we heard the front door open, and knew that V was back.

I had a good sleep that night. Well, it was better than a couple of nights ago. My mother was alive and well, and didn't appear to be in any danger. She seemed to know that I was still alive. I hoped. I pinned the drawing of her by my bed, up against the wall. It was as if she was watching over me, making sure that I was all right.

My eyes flew open the next morning as I heard a slashing sound coming from the main room. Like there was fighting going on. But that couldn't be, unless…

"V!"

I bolted to the main doorway of the living room. But even I wasn't quite prepared for the sight that awaited me there.

The sound of sword-fighting was coming from both a black-and-white movie playing on the TV, and from V himself. Or rather, his weapons. He lunged repeatedly towards a stationary suit of armor, his sword flashing in the air as he whirled round it, just like the hero on the screen on the television. Slowing down, he paused for breath.

"Can I have a go?"

He turned and look at me with what I sensed was startled surprise. "Vanessa!" Clearing his throat, he went on. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

I shook my head, though I knew that he could tell I was lying. "Is that a real sword?"

"As real as this suit of armor here." He tapped it with the sword. "Would you like to try?"

I took the sword from him, surprised at how heavy and dangerous it was. "How do you use this thing?" Tentatively, I waved it round. "You make it look so easy."

"It takes practice, my child. Lots of practice." He nodded at me. "Perhaps you could try after breakfast."

I smiled, handing him back the sword. "For now, I'll leave it to the professionals."

V bowed, in a slightly mocking way. "Now, Vanessa, let me show you how it's done."

I sat on the sofa and watched while he effortlessly feinted and lunged towards and away from the suit of armor, whirling around and slashing at the air. Then, with one graceful movement, he beheaded the suit of armor, the head rolling across the ground, and coming to rest at Evey's feet.

"Oh…I hope I didn't wake you." For the first time, V sounded embarrassed.

I covered my mouth with my hand to stop myself from laughing. He obviously hadn't seen that one coming, at any rate. Like myself, Evey thought that V had been fighting for real.

"My favourite film, The Counte Of Monte Cristo." He looked fondly at the screen. "Gets me every time."

"What's it about? I've never seen it." I remarked.

"Does it have a happy ending?" Evey asked.

"Would you like to see it?" V asked us, looking from Evey to me. "And yes, it does indeed have a happy ending. As only celluloid can deliver."

I nodded. "I like those kinds of films."

"Okay." Evey replied. Then, with a slight grin, she added, "But put the sword away."

That was a bit of a filler, but some action is on the way, so there's one way to keep you in suspense! XD