Authors Note: Just a fanfic I posted on my fanfiction.net account but decided to share :]
From The Notes of Dr. Malcolm Long, October 25th, 1985
First interview with Kovacs…He’s even more disturbed than I’d heard, but I’m optimistic. A success here could make my reputation. He’s very withdrawn, with no expression in either face or voice. Getting a response is often difficult. Physically, he’s fascinatingly ugly. I could stare at him for hours…except that he stares back, which I find uncomfortable. He never seems to blink. Nevertheless, I’m convinced I can help him. No problem is beyond the grasp of a good psychoanalyst, and they tell me I’m very good. Good with people. His responses to the Rorschach blot tests were surprisingly bright and positive and healthy. I really think he might be getting better.
…I just wish he wasn’t so intense.
I just wish he wouldn’t stare at me like that.
His full name is Walter Joseph Kovacs, born 1940. Mothers name: Sylvia Joanna Kovacs, formerly Sylvia Glick. His fathers name is unknown. He’s 5”6 tall and weighs 140 LBS. For his age, he’s in excellent physical shape despite a lot of bruises and lacerations mostly sustained during his arrest. The police have beaten on him pretty badly. During the police strike of `77 he made several inflammatory anti-cop statements, and they’ve never forgotten. The cops don’t like him; the underworld doesn’t like him; nobody likes him. I’ve never met anyone quite so alienated. How on Earth did he get like this?
Rorschach lay awake on his bunk, his eyes scanning the dirty and bumpy ceiling above him; thoughts hindering his mind in constant motion. Constant screams and declarations came about from all the other cells in the prison, all angry threats and slimy insults heading for Rorschach’s cell.
“Were gonna kill ya good Rorschach! Were gonna get outa here and chop off all your damn limbs!”
“Were gonna butcher you!”
“Huh Rorschach? Do you have a family? Do you have a mother, and a sister, and a father? Because I’m gonna make sure you don’t have `em anymore!”
“Slaughter you!”
“Destroy you!”
“Burn you alive, Rorschach, burn you alive!”
“You gonna be fleshless Rorschach! Fleshless!”
They don’t understand, they don’t realize.
I’m going to get out of here.
And I’m going to kill every last one of them.
Rorschach’s thoughts came from anger, he knew that of course. For the time being, he was either bored or awaiting the next visit with Dr. Malcolm Long. They had taken most of his belongings… his flashlight, his Sweet Chariot chewing sugar, his red rose, and even his Journal. All were pulled away from him after they exposed his face.
Why did Watchmen quit?
No he didn’t want to think about it.
Dan quit.
They all gave up; not Rorschach.
The Comedian was murdered.
Dr. Manhattan lost stake in the world.
Laurie was too busy juggling men.
Adrian Veidt is just the smartest man in the world…
The Watchmen just quit.
“Rorschach! Can you hear me? I’m gonna make sure ya ears are torn off, I’m gonna wear them around my neck!”
“Were going to use you as a souvenir!”
“When were out of here, Rorschach, were gonna make sure your bleeding out!”
“I’m gonna tear another hole out of you!”
Their stuck in here with me.
I’m not stuck with them.
Their stuck with ME.
Excerpt from the Notes of Dr. Malcolm Long:
The deputy warden just called. Apparently, Kovacs was involved in an incident today, just after he’d seen me. It happened during lunch, in the canteen…
He got into a predicament with one of the other’s and…poured a vat of hot cooking fat on him. The guards intervened, dragging kovacs away to solitary and the other man to the prison hospital.
…As they dragged him away, Rorschach spoke to the other inmates. He said “None of you understand. I’m not locked up in here with you. You’re locked up in here with me.”
Rorschach sat across from Dr. Malcolm Long, his expression of morbid boredom and as plain as the way he talks. The Dr. looked rather nervous; scared maybe. He cleared his throat.
“Walter, I heard about the …fuss that happened in the cafeteria. What pushed you to the edge of…injuring that man?”
“You keep calling me Walter. I don’t like you.”
Dr. Malcolm Long leaned back in his seat and cleared his throat again, trying to get the lump out of his throat. Beads of sweat trailed down the back of his neck.
“I’m sincerely sorry about that. Now, about the incident-”
“Wasn’t an incident; had a blade on him.”
“So he was going to kill you with it.”
“…inmates with knives usually kill.” Rorschach stared at the doctor, his expression unmoved, and his voice nothing but a monotone sneer.
Dr. Malcolm Long threaded his hands together and averted his eyes away from Rorschach. He didn’t like the way Rorschach stared; completely empty of emotion.
“Well, yes. But the man is in the hospital now. You…well, you may as well have brutally injured him, almost killed him.”
“Had it coming.”
The doctor shifted in his seat.
“Is that how you handle things? They supposedly deserve it…so you…kill them?” The doctor didn’t accuse, just asked with curiosity lacing his voice.
Rorschach was silent.
Silence was all that bestowed the room for 3 minutes and 21 seconds.
“You don’t know what world we live in. The end is nigh.”
The doctor inhaled a deep breath.
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