Imprint

CHAPTER 1

Remembering





The statue stood in the middle of Trafalgar Square, a monument to the revolution that rebuilt a country. The man it represented had been dead for ten years, that very night, and citizens had began laying flowers around the base---but to Evey Hammond, it was to be another night of painful memories, as it had been every year on this date.


“ Who was he Mother? “ A voice from beside her broke her thoughts. Evey dried her tears as she smiled over at the girl standing there, and took her hand. The dark hair framed the girl's face, which showed the signs of the young woman she would soon become, and the dark blue eyes reminded her mother of someone she knew long ago.

“ He was a friend, a teacher and someone I once knew, he was all of us., “ Evey paused, squeezing her daughter's hand gently. “ and, he was your father, Victoria.” She laid the Scarlet Carson rose at the base of the statue.

“ I know that, Mum, but who was he really?” Victoria asked softly.

Evey smiled gently. It was when they talked like this that she was so like her father. ' V would have loved you so much. ' She thought to herself.

“ He was a man who knew that intolerance, injustice and hatred were not part of a democracy.” A voice from behind them spoke out. Startled, Evey and Victoria turned around.

“ I'm sorry, I didn't mean to to disturb you, but I heard the young lady's question, and was compelled to answer.” The man removed his hat. “ My name is King, Samuel King.”

Evey looked at the man. His bearing and appearance gave an air of nobility about him, and his brown hair was short, graying around the temples; his full beard, neatly trimmed with specks of gray through out.

“ I'm Evey Hammond, and this is my daughter, Victoria.” Evey smiled.

“ A pleasure ladies.” There was a momentarily hesitation before he bowed gracefully, then took both their hands separately, kissing them.

“ Did you know my father, sir?” Victoria asked the man in the black overcoat.

“ Knew him, no-----knew of him, yes.” King looked up at the statue of V. It was almost like he was ready to fight, the cloak had been frozen as it whipped around his body, his hands both held knives in them, at the ready. “ The freedom we have today is because of the things he accomplished.”


“ Yes, yes it is....” Evey added softly as tears began to well in her eyes, then turned to Victoria. “ Are you ready to go poppet, we have a lot of things to do today.”

“ Yes, Mum.” Victoria layed a hand on the statue. “ But I would so like to come back.”

“ Of course, my dearest, anytime.” Evey looked over at King. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” She smiled as he tipped his hat and watched them walk away.


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V put his hand against the the statue to steady himself. He had a daughter---he and Evey had a daughter! For ten years, he had not known. He could still see them walking in the distance across the square, and his heart began breaking all over again, as it had done ten years ago this very night. His mind drew him back to the moment he had jumped from the train at the last second, that November fifth night, severely wounded from the meeting with Creedy and his men. He had lived because of what Evey had told him at Victoria Station. Making it back to his secret living quarters, he tended his wounds and healed, letting Evey go on with her new life. This was his private sanctuary----even she hadn't known of it's existence. He had lived with her in the Shadow Gallery while she was with him, but after long nights of preparing for the end result of his vendetta, V would come here just to think, several days at a time. A few weeks after his wounds had healed, he left London all together, retiring to an estate in Kingston upon Hull, he had bought through a solicitor he had retained, and began living the lifestyle of a country nobleman ( you could become anything when you knew the right people). He would venture into London two or three times a year to check in with him about the previsions he had left for Evey. In the many years he had been there, he had never seen her---until this trip. He had a lot of thinking to do--- a one chance meeting could change a lifetime. He turned and walked away.




Evey felt strange as she and Victoria left the square and headed back toward the building that covered the Shadow Gallery, one of the many things V had left her. After six months or so, she had restored the building back to it's orginal elegance and turned it into condos ,which she rented or either sold, so she always had a steady income, but even after V's death, she could not give up the Shadow Gallery that lay safely beneath . She had hired a construction crew to rebuild the tunnel entrance to it, and put in a doorway with a one of a kind security system---V's, of course. For the first several months after she had continued to live there, she had to force herself to come out of his room just to eat, watch a movie or listen to the jukebox, and once she found out she was pregnant, it became worse. Then came the night she had had the dream. V had appeared to her, so life like, so real. He had told her that her work was not done yet, it had only started, and the people needed her until the new government could get a foothold, he had let her know that what he had put her through was for this reason. The next morning, she had gone to see Eric Finch and Dominic Stone, and so had begun her political career. After the birth of Victoria, she had brought her daughter back to the gallery----this was her home now, too. With Victoria in her life , Evey had taken the position of Director of Antiquities at the new London Museum of Art and History, a job she had thrown her life into. V may have been gone, but Evey was determined to make sure the rest of England would be able to enjoy the treasures he had left her.

Evey entered the code for the security system and waited for the lock to open.

“ Mum, “ Victoria began as she threw herself on the couch in the movie room, “ Dad didn't have a lot of friends, did he?”

She looked at her daughter and sighed. Taking a seat beside her, she ran her arm around her shoulders. “ No, he didn't,” Evey began, “ He made more enemies that he did friends. People didn't understand what he was trying to do. Ten years ago, the English government was so corrupt that thinking differently, acting differently or just being different was against the law.”

Victoria sat listening, watching her mother as she talked. Evey really didn't like talking about V, and she never told her daughter why, but Victoria figured it was because her mother still loved him, and her memories, to painful to speak of, so she never pushed her about him.

Evey watched Victoria. She was so much like V, the way she talked, the way she stood or walked----she was definitely his daughter, and she also had his love for Shakespeare, the classics, art and music. Finally Victoria put her arms around her mother and hugged her . “ I understand, Mum, it's ok.” Evey patted her daughter's hand. Fortunately, none of V's unusual abilities had manifested in his daughter as of yet, but there was still plenty of time for that, and Evey would cross that bridge when the time came----if it ever happened.

“ I think I'm going to workout for a while. “ Victoria said getting up from the couch.

“ Wait for me, and I'll go with you. I need something to take my mind off of things.” Evey smiled as she hurried to the bedroom, and returned a few minutes later in sweats and a tee shirt and joined Victoria then headed toward the wine cellars.



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Samuel King, aka V, walked into the small hallway of the second labyrinth---his home away from home. He laid the overcoat on the arm of a nearby chair. His hat, gloves and walking cane, he layed on a nearby table. They were so close to him---his Evey and daughter, only a few hundred yards or so away. He sat down at the mirror in his room and began taking the latex appliances off his face. His reconstructive surgery was almost half way done. His face would be finished with the next one, and his upper torso with the one after that. It had been well worth the pain he had gone through and the expense. He glanced over to the right and saw the Guy Fawkes mask smiling at him. It had been years since he had worn it, and it was like seeing a long lost friend. He stood up, and opened the amoire. Pushing all his current clothing to the right, he found the black outfits that had become like a second skin to him. He pulled a coat, black linen shirt and breeches, along with his boots out, then grabbed the cape and hat from the shelf---his knife belt being the last to come down. He smiled, he had made his mind up. Victoria wanted to know about her father, what better way was there than to answer the questions himself, and also to let Evey know how much he still loved her. He grinned, as he realized that there would be hell to pay for the last ten years he had missed, but it would be worth it.


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Evey wiped the sweat from her eyes as she watched Victoria twirl the knives in her hand as V had done so many times before, then attack the mannequin. She had come a long way in only a year, but Evey had wanted her to be able to protect herself if the need be. The girl was an excellent student and a quick learner, something that definitely came from her father. Evey crossed her legs and watched from the mats.

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V pulled the gloves on, and fastened the knife belt around his waist. He would do a quick once over of the neighborhood, then pay Evey and the Shadow Gallery a visit. He tied the mask around his face and looked into the mirror adjusting the black wig. It had been years since he had dressed up as V----his vendetta, long dead, but his love for Evey was as strong as it had been the first night he had met her, although he had never told her until that November fifth night. He shook his head to clear his mind, then grabbing his hat, he left.

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Evey sat alone in the wine cellar V had used when he practiced, only candles illuminated the inside. There would be fireworks, celebrations and crowds lingering in the streets tonight----- it was November fourth. She glanced at her wristwatch--- it read eleven thirty----a half hour till midnight. She wiped a tear with her hand, it had been ten years ago tonight that V had given his life for England's future--------he had told her he loved her, then died in her arms, before Evey had the chance to tell him that she had loved him too. God, how it hurt so bad still! Whoever had said that time heals all wounds was never in love! She pulled herself up, and blew out all but one candle sitting in the middle of the floor, a small red and black domino next to it----her memorial to her fallen love.

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V blended in with the crowd as he hurried toward the building that sheltered the Shadow Gallery. He had come to London for the last several years just to see if he could spot Evey in the crowd, but he had never caught a trace or much less a glimpse of her. Tonight, he would wait to see if she came up to the roof. He scaled his way to the top, and hid in the shadows, waiting.

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Evey pulled her wrap around her. Victoria had gone to a friends home for the festivities, leaving her alone. The cape felt good on her shoulders as she waited for the lift to stop. It was the only thing she had of V's, everything else had remained in his makeup room. She walked from the lift across the roof, and stopped by the ledge, watching the crowds in the street below.

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V watched from the shadows as Evey had crossed the roof top, coming to a stop by the ledge. He had also noticed that she had one of his capes wraped tightly around her to keep out the night's chill. Off in the distance, he heard Big Ben ( the new one ) beginning to toll the midnight hour.

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Evey couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and her shoulders shook as she cried, with the first sound of the ' The 1812 Overture' breaking through the cloudy night sky. She pulled herself together, standing tall, and spoke calmly into the night. “ Remember, remember the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason plot....” She begun.

“ I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot.” A low, velvety voice came from behind her as V stepped out of the shadows.

Evey spun around, a gasp escaping her mouth, as her eyes widened. Standing in front of her was the ghost of V. Quietly, she turned back around. “ You're dead.... you're not real....” She cried softly, “ Please go away....please.....”

V watched as she slowly slid down onto her knees. He was beside her in a matter of seconds, his hands lying gently on her shoulders. He took her chin in his gloved hand and lifted it toward the mask. “ Oh my love, my life......what have I done to you?” The Guy Fawkes mask tilted toward her as her eyes opened, and she stared into the frozen smile. Slowly, her hand reached up and touched it gently.

“ Who are you, and why are you torturing me so?” Tear-filled eyes stared into black eye slits.

“ Evey, it's me.” V whispered, “ I'm not a ghost....I'm as real as you are.” He placed her hand on his chest, his heart beating wildly under her palm.

She pulled away as if she had been scalded by hot water. “ How dare you!!” Anger filled her amber- brown eyes. “ V died in my arms, don't even think about trying to....” She paused for only a moment as she rose to her feet, he with her, her finger poking him in the chest, backing him up periodically.” ....pass yourself off as him!”

V grabbed her arms. “ Evey, damn it! It's me, it's really me!” He pushed the mask up and his lips found hers. Evey started to protest, but her body and mind started to respond to something they were familiar with, something from long ago. V deepened the kiss and a soft moan escaped Evey's lips right before he pulled away.

She looked into the face, her fingers on her lips, until she caught the dark blue eyes searching her face----dark blue eyes that looked so much like her daughter's. She felt light-headed and began to sink to the roof, but was caught by strong arms.

“ V? “ She whispered, trying to make since of what she was seeing. “ You're not here.....you're dead.....”

“ My darling, I am very much alive...” He smiled down into amber colored eyes. “ And I plan to remain that way for some time, I hope.” Her arms went around his neck, and she cried until she couldn't cry any longer.





One step, I make an imprint
Two steps, it's committment
Three steps, I'm not done yet
Draw my other leg up, and the pace is set

Imprint---from the band Double Drive