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V for Vendetta - the Zombie Edition! by Vincent_Valentine

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And I am back!

Before anything else, this piece was inspired by my great admiration for George Romero's work, and by a few rounds of Shaun of the Dead. I know some VfV fans will hate it, but I just had to write this, it would not let me be.
Out of character rubbish as always, it doesn't even make sense. Oh well

Freedom! Forever! Enjoy!


I do not own anything of V for Vendetta. I also do not own anything to do with George Romero's work, although I would work as a walk in zombie for a dollar and a doughnut.
V for Vendetta - the Zombie Edition!


Somewhere in the dark streets of London, a lone figure stalked trough the heavy fog that had risen, cursing briefly at his near tripping on a loose cobblestone below before sneezing wetly.

'Bloody hell!' the man cursed and sneezed again, spitting. It didn't pay to be a Fingerman at this time of year, not when Winter was almost here and it was so goddamn cold! Bloody Creedy had cut their budget again, so a lot of the men had taken to accepting bribes from curfew breakers. So far he'd found nobody out, and his shift was almost over. It looked to be a poor night's takings, and it made him even more miserable.

Thinking of heading back to meet his relief he pulled the woollen collar closer to him, but as he looked up he spotted a faint figure walking slowly ahead of him, wearing a hat and a long coat of some sort. Well now, the Fingerman smiled unpleasantly. Looks like we got ourselves a curfew breaker. He fingered the steel baton concealed in his thick coat, imagining some bribe money or some fun was to come his way after all, maybe both.

'Oi!' he called out to the figure, who appeared not to have heard him at all, continuing on his way.

'Oi YOU!!' the Fingerman called again. This time the figure stopped and stood still without turning around.

'Yeh you heard me.' The Fingerman approached 'its past curfew mate. Whatcha doing out so late?'

The figure didn't reply, sidestepping quickly into the shadows of an adjacent building. The Fingerman shook his head and snorted. Bloody idiot! Thinking he's gonna hide from me.

'Not gonna say anything eh?' The Fingerman produced his baton, not going after the curfew breaker, not yet, giving him a chance to get scared, scared enough to cough up some money. He produced his badge and his baton. Or some blood if he don't pay up, he though nastily.

'Into the light' He produced his badge and flashed it quickly.

The figure did not move to obey and remained in the shadows.

'Fine by me' He raised his baton to strike 'you'll be begging in a minute!'

Before he could move to strike, a black gauntleted hand emerged from the shadows, seizing his wrist with so much strength it made him wince immediately, before dragging him into the shadows, face to face with a white smiling face, a mask!

The Fingerman struggled briefly, striking at the mask before emitting a feeble gasp of horror as it came away and he looked at what lay beneath. His eyes bulged in horror and he managed to emit a brief, horrified shriek that was drowned in a horrid gargled sound, then silenced by a chilling tearing of flesh and crunching of bone.

Silence prevailed, broken only by more tearing of flesh, the sound of something in the darkness, feeding.

'Ahhhh' A deep, resonant voice sighed in utter contentment as a heavy weight dropped at his feet onto a large pool of drying blood. The tall, masked figure stepped over what remained of the Fingerman and cast the mask's dark eyes towards Big Ben's luminous face.

'And now for the stroke of midnight, and for the overture to begin...'

Finis of Prologue
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