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I laid on the couch, watching the tv with Heck laying longs ways against the front of the couch. I was watching a new crime show that dealt with cyber crimes and such. It was different and kind of weird, but it was pretty good. I yawned, stretching out my arms, then rubbing my eyes. It was 9:30 at night, early for me to be yawning.

My phone started to ring; I grabbed it, not looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hey, Marcie... Its me." Percy's voice came on the line.

"You bitch!" I say without thinking. My eyes widen a bit as I realize what I said. "I'm sorry."

"No, I deserve it."

"You bet." I say back, looking over at my balcony.

I hear Percy sigh. "Danielle is in that rehabilitation center, if you were wondering." He said after a minute.

"Yeap. Saw the whole thing." I said, holding out the 'whole' out for a little bit.

"I feel like such a butt."

"You should feel like an ass-hole." I add cockiness into my voice.

"Will you let me talk!" Percy's voice raises a little.

"Will you please stop worrying about yourself! I mean, jeez. You didn't have Danielle put in that center for her; you had her put in there because she kept hitting you when she was drunk!" This, was the God's honest truth. 

Danielle would hit Percy when she could when she was drunker than a skunk. It was normal, and that is why I kept my camera at my work. 

"I'm hanging up now." Percy said in a serious tone.

"You called me, remember?" I spatted, hanging up on him before he could me.

Did I feel bad for Percy? No. I felt pity for him because he was one of those who were selfish, and was angry at everyone from time to time. 

Heck looked up at me, with that 'puppy dog' look in his eyes. "I'm not calling him back." I shrug to the dog. He simply laid his head back on the floor.

Halfway through Family Guy, I managed to fall asleep. This sleep didn't last long; Heck kept nudging his head in my feet, waking me up slowly. I kicked him away, and was going to go back to sleep when he finally barked. I groaned, then sat up. "What?" I ask, rubbing my eyes.

I heard a small, tapping sound on my screen door. I raised my eyebrow, then looked over at the door. It was that same guy from the alley way. I stared at him for a minute, before rubbing my eyes again. Nope.  Not a dream. He tapped the window again, returning me back to reality.

I stood up, walked the short distance to the door, and cracked it. "Why are you here?" I asked, gulping a little.

"To see you, of course!" He said, with some happiness in his voice. I couldn't tell if he was smiling or not, because his face was hidden under his mask, but something told me he was smiling.

"Why?"

"I destroy my enemies when I make them my friend."

"Abraham Lincoln, and I have never seen you before, so I can't be your enemy." I furrow my brow at the man.

"You are apart of the Chicago Times, are you not?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

"...Yeah. Why?" I asked, relaxing my eyebrow muscles.

"Why? Why, why, why, why? That is a question every reporter asks. Why? Then follows who, then when, how, then what did they do it for. Is it not?" As he asked, he paused. I nodded to his question. "And, with all the answers, one feels like they know everything. And with knowledge, comes power."

I open the door open, then stand in the doorway. "Who are you?" I leaned against wall to my left.

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

I roll my eyes, murmuring a 'duh'. "What can I call you?" I could tell he was having fun annoying me.

"V." He jutted out his hand for me to shake.

I look at it for a second. I'm deciphering on whether he is a cray person or some special case. I shake it; it was strong, yet soft and gentle. "I'm Marcie. Marcie Silverman."

{This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but it fits in well.}

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