Watchmen: Time Skips
It's just Saturday now in the US, I think...
Title: Time Skips
Author: floorcandy
Recipient:
avariel_wings
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: 15+
Spoilers: Takes place after the movies conclusion
Warnings: zombies, misogyny and the beating down of an old lady
Request: Request 1 - fandom: Watchmen, either canon
Details: "The politicians and whores will look up and shout "Save us!" And I'll look down and whisper "No"." (I loves me some Rorschach).
Summary: Rorschach wakes in a time not his own. New York just ain't what it used to be.
* * * *
Rorshachs Journal, unknown date
Stood exposed with face in my hand. Tears of rage rolled down cheeks. The screams of millions dead cried out from the mountains of bleached ivory. All of them sinners, all of them cradling a monster inside, but so very few ready for the punishment wrought them.
The injustice of it all! Weak men who called themselves heroes, fools thinking they could scrape away at humanity's black heart with one swift, easy stroke: look what they have done!
Face felt right after putting it back on. It was calming, helped breathing, focused the black hatred back where it belonged. Someone did this. Someone was going to shoulder the blame. Someone was going to pay dearly for their crimes.
Gained high ground and looked to the killing fields of New York City. Was this the world that Veidt had created? Would have seemed a logical conclusion, but something felt wrong. Didn't know what.
Too distracted with death. Waking visions of a grotesque world more twisted than that of usual nightmares overwhelmed. There were more important questions to be asked: questions linked to my purpose here.
Fact. Adrian Veidt hatched mad scheme to kill millions, possibly more. Plan was to achieve world peace.
Fact. Teamed with Daniel, arrived too late to stop him. Manhattan and Juspeczyk arrived shortly after. Veidt, despite questionable display of remorse, was jubilant.
Fact. Veidt's success hinged on our silence. Daniel and Juspeczyk allowed compromise, showed weakness. Manhattan too far removed to care. Was left alone to expose Veidt as the monster he was.
Fact. Manhattan had to ensure secret was safe, murdered me in the snow, yet now find myself peering over bones littered through Times Square. Why? Couldn't be an accident. Manhattan is closest thing to a god there's ever been: he doesn't make mistakes.
Noticed something in the street. Went in for a closer look. Not one, but hundreds filling the roads. The names were familiar: Honda, Mercedes, General Motors, Mitsubishi, but the make of the endless cars were unknown. They had different names and different designs, as though they belonged to a different time.
Time travel? The thought was laughable, but considering the power of Dr Manhattan anything seemed possible. Perhaps he didn't have the nerve to kill me. Perhaps he simply wanted me out of the way. No. Not in his nature to care about people. There was another motive.
Light cracked between the buildings of the silent city. Evening waned to dusk, dragging long shadows across the skyline. This was what true peace looked like. Only possible without the stain of humanity there to spoil it all.
Walked all the way to the other side of Broadway. Dare say enjoyed it. Bodies didn't bother me. Carrion birds had probably picked clean the rotten flesh long ago. Lesser man might be nauseous.
Heard movement. Darted to shadows. For the first time realize am not alone. Somewhat concerned. Hadn't seen so much as a fly since coming here. Thing lurking in the dark was bigger than that.
Found discarded iron rod on the ground and a large shard of glass. They clicked quietly as they were picked up from the ground. Both were better weapons than fists. Lucky they were everywhere.
The fruit of mankind's creation weakly and wearily stepped out of it's hole. It's eyes were pale, it's skin was like leather, the muscle had withered away into hard, dry ropes underneath. The way it reached out made it seem like it was pleading, whether it be for food, water or salvation. Either way it would be denied.
It could have been capable of anything. There was no way to assess situation from the street. Retreat seemed best solution. Grappling hook replaced shard of glass. A better vantage point from the rooftops was required.
Almost immediately noticed the smell of bad meat. Could barely see in the dark the outline of empty cages. One step and a bone snapped. That's when I knew. It was a bird trap and someone... something was still there waiting for it to go off.
A figure leaped out like a hungry spider and screamed at the top of it's lungs an inhuman wail to summon it's allies. The trap had been sprung.
Couldn't allow myself to become it's dinner. Tried to hold it back with the iron rod but it was strong, made that way by desperation and madness. If it ever had a mind it had long since gone, leaving only a ravenous zombie in it's place.
“I'm sorry.”
Strange. Felt genuinely sorry for it, though didn't stop me from using it's weight against it, flinging it from the rooftop. This wasn't like the wave of scum of old New York fighting for power, money, sex or greed: this was fight or flight, survival mode. Far deadlier. Can almost respect their ruthlessness.
It's scream called the attention of the others. They were faster, more agile than humans and climbed the building like an army of insects. Didn't know how many of them I could possibly take, but making a few vital shots with the glass would buy a little time. Enough for a plan? Maybe.
“Come and get me,” I bellowed. “You want a wrestle down a good meal? I'm right here!”
Taunting them as though they could understand. Should have known better right from the start. Speak to them in their own language. Use feet and fists to beat the message into them: tell them there's no food to be found here.
Fragile bones snapped like twigs, but they seemed to feel no pain. Even as they poked sharply from their torn skin their thoughts were only on one thing: drown their prey, consume its flesh, stave off hunger for another night. Damned if that was going to happen.
Swipe of the shard's sharp edge took one of their heads clean off. A focused kick shattered a spine, leaving one to crawl like a snake. To another left a shattered neck and to another still left fragments of rib piercing it's lungs. The regular scum would think twice after this, but these were not the regular scum.
Each counter-attack bought just a seconds reprieve. Needed a more permanent solution. Only weakness noted so far was photosensitivity, but no light was to be found. The city had no power, nothing to start a fire with. Had to admit, things were looking grim.
Suddenly was bombarded by deafening sound. Something descended on gray wings. Trying not to describe as 'dark angel': implies faith in superstition.
Sound was perfect distraction. Used it as chance to run. Ears rang, were probably bleeding. Didn't care. Had to escape. Didn't get far before being snatched up from behind. A larger predator, perhaps? Fought to break free before we got too high.
It tightened it's grip, then spoke. “Hold still, would ya? Unless you want to fall and kill yourself!”
I stopped. Not a zombie. Human. Couldn't relax yet. Had to assess the danger. Start with simple question. “Who are you?”
“You're kidding, right? Who do you think spends most of his nights pulling you guys out of these things?”
He acted familiar with me. Knew who I was? Why I was here? Spoke as though I was part of a larger group. Saw opportunity to learn Dr Manhattan's intentions.
Lots of questions to ask. One still seemed prudent. “Who are you?”
“You really don't know who I am?” Clearly didn't. “The name's Nite Owl. I'm a superhero. Probably the last one left on the entire planet, and I just saved your bacon.”
Said name was Nite Owl, but wasn't Daniel. Had a young voice, might have been a kid: a stupid kid who thought putting on a mask and costume was supposed to be fun. Seemed to enjoy coming to my rescue. Didn't take the work seriously. Already didn't like him.
“Where are we going?”
“Where do you think?” he retorted as though it were obvious. Might have been if I were from the same time.
Damn you, Manhattan. Where did you send me?
* * * *
Madison Square Garden lay packed with a sea of the destitute, the survivors of armageddon. Funny, somehow remembered armageddon differently. Nite Owl landed, left me alone to find way myself. Good, but had questions first.
“What happened here?”
He stopped, paused. “Is... that a trick question?”
“I don't ask trick questions,” I hissed. “Tell me what happened here. Why are all these people here? What were those things that were chasing me?”
“You can't be serious.” The hand around his throat said I was. He fought me off and choked out an answer. “Alright! Fine!” He sighed, cursed me under his breathe. Still needed answers. “They're Veidt's 'new breed'.”
“New breed of what!?”
“Human! His way of helping humanity survive the nuclear holocaust. Don't you remember?”
“No,” I said. “Been out of town. Tell me more.”
Nite Owl stared as though I'd just come from outer space. Maybe I had. “When the bombs started to fall we were facing an extinction level event, so it was up to the old heroes to search for a solution. They wanted humanity to survive but didn't calculate the cost.”
“What bombs?”
The kid shook his head. Snatched his arm, but he pulled it away. Practically grunted his answer back at me. “The Russians, man. World War Three, started by you guys! Don't try and act oblivious!”
I sneered bitterly. “Who do you think I am?”
“Cult of Rorschach.” Nite Owl nodded to an assembly by the stands. They wore black and white paint patterned symmetrically: a horrifying parody of my face. “You and that diary of his, like it's some kind of bible.”
Foul mimics sat around the fire. Among them two girls, one looking like the leader of the group, submitting to carnal lusts. Girls kissing girls, reawakening the spirit of Babylon's whore. End times indeed.
Decided to make introduction, walked toward them. They should have picked someone else to deify: another god more forgiving.
Wasn't long before I was noticed. Soon was surrounded by pack animals. They clung tight to illusion they owned that piece of land and the symbols they bore. Territorial beasts stealing from higher on the chain.
“Those are our colors, man,” scowled smaller rat. “Those colors have to be earned. You can't just walk in here and...”
“Shut up.” Hard boot toppling a metal drum scattered burning garbage everywhere. They ran like vermin, like savages afraid of the flames. Wasted no time and began putting fists to faces, elbows to throats, knees to groins and more. In the language of violence was still most fluent.
Red stained black and white faces. Splattered everywhere: senseless, random. Was like art. Was what Rorschach was really all about. Things hidden in the shapes. Nothing ever as simple as it first appears.
Shotgun blast rang out into the night, not from the pack but from behind us. Someone else wanted a piece of the action. In moment of confused silence a single voiced screamed, “ENOUGH!”
No. Couldn't have been. She was still alive? Didn't expect her to outlast the others, especially Daniel who was always more prepared. Could almost make out her face under worn wrinkles and gray hair, but voice was unmistakable. Two guards stood at either side, both armed to the teeth. Behind them, kid who thinks he's Nite Owl.
“There will be no in-fighting so long as you're here,” Juspeczyk hissed. “This is a sanctuary! The real enemies are out there clawing for our flesh! If you're so desperate for something to hit you're more than free to go outside!”
Cult leader lifted her head, spat out teeth. She pleaded like a bitch who'd been swatted across the nose. “It wasn't us, Spectra. It was this crazy fucker right here! First he comes wearing our colors and then...”
“Hrm. My colors first,” I grunted.
“Fucking maniac!”
Juspeczyk's eyes narrowed. Was it really a ghost before her, or something more substantial? One fact became clear: Juspeczyk was not responsible for my being here.
“Oh my god,” she gasped. “Rorschach? Is that...? No. No, you're dead.”
“Dead as you are,” I observed. “Hrm.”
The crowd parted around her as she moved. Held her in reverence. Not a luxury I would afford her. Her hand reached to touch me, slapped it away. Did she think I was sentimental? Memory must have gone with old age.
Her expression contorted. “Oh god, it really is you, but... but this doesn't make any sense! I saw you... in the snow! There was blood splattered everywhere. Your coat, your hat, your mask...”
“Yet here I stand,” I asked. “How?”
“I... I don't know, but maybe we should talk somewhere more private.” Looking around at the gathering privacy seemed like good idea. Meant getting away from low grade pretenders too defensive for their own good.
Followed Juspeczyk past shanty town in the bleachers. Saw dog meat being turned on spit. Never had a thing for dogs. Meat doesn't smell too good either.
Children covered in blackened gashes, clothed by the Gap. Black, white, Hispanic, Asian: the color divide had been broken down. The open chasm between rich and poor, pauper and prince had been bridged by the great equalizer: absolute destruction. Veidt's dream of unity lead mankind straight into the gutter.
Juspeczyk peered back. “Well?”
“A lot has changed.”
“You don't know the half of it,” she chided. Then she stopped, paused, considered... what? “You... are really him, aren't you?”
“You were quick to believe I was before. Suspect I might have been expected.”
“Expected?” She laughed then slammed the steel door behind her. Locks behind bolted automatically, but could easily be opened from the inside. “Yes, Rorschach, that's exactly it. The last I saw you were a fine mist. Of course I was expecting you to return after the world ended!”
Sarcasm. Pointless defense mechanism. She knew nothing. “If not you, then Dr Manhattan. Extent of his powers were uncharted even in my time. He could see past, present, future. Perhaps he could also manipulate history.”
“What? Why would he go to all the trouble of flinging you into the...?”
Sudden flash of light blinded me. Could feel familiar sensation of hairs standing on end. Static charge filled the room as ominous figure floated before us. Just as we were talking about him Dr Manhattan appeared as if to answer questions. Too much coincidence.
“Jon!” Juspeczyk seemed happy to see him. Ran up to him, then stopped before embracing him. “Oh my god! I haven't seen you since... since... it's been years! Jon...”
He looked past her like she was invisible. His attention lay squarely on me. Felt cold staring back at the diety, but wouldn't back away. Removed from humanity, maybe, but still a man deep down somewhere.
“Hello, Rorschach,” he stated simply. “I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”
Juspeczyk looked weak. She pleaded to the cosmic god for the tiniest morsel, but he would not give. Old and frail she no longer had sex to wave at him. “Jon? Jon, say something to me!”
“Seems pointless. You already know what I'm going to ask.”
“Yes, I do know, but only because you ask it in the future. If not then I will never know.”
“Jon,” she pleaded, “please talk to me. Please. We're starving. You can make food, water, medicine, anything! You can... you can kill all of these things with a thought! Jon, you can put a stop to all of this! Please!”
“You sent me here,” I said. Manhattan nodded. “To when? What happened here?”
“This is the world you undid, Rorschach. Your diary, released to the world, made it topple. When they learned of Veidt's mechanations it did not take the world's nations long to turn on each other again. There was a war...”
“I saw it all,” I told him. “Whatever they dropped wasn't a nuke. People... civilians, turned into flesh eating monsters. They banded together and tore the city apart. Kid mentioned Veidt...”
“They were called the 'new breed.' Veidt created a drug that would grant recipients a degree of protection from nuclear fallout. However, the side effects were catastrophic.”
Crawling to one side Juspeczyk laid her head in her hands and wept. She had looked upon a god and realized that she was nothing. Pressed against the wall with no hope left and prayers unanswered she quietly gave up. “Jon...” Or not.
“Veidt did this!?”
“With the help of Daniel and Laurie,” Manhattan said. “Without their influence the government would have never allowed him the resources to...”
“YOU!” Old hag or not Juspeczyk was accountable. I raced to her, kicked the seat from under her and wrapped my hands around her throat: just enough to scare her until I had the rest of my answers. I let go and let her drop.
All the while her eyes weren't on me. “Is this... why you're ignoring me, Jon? You're blaming me for letting Veidt hatch another master plan? It wasn't our fault! We didn't know this was going to happen.”
Wrapped her throat again. My grip tightened. Her arms flailed against me, but I could endure the pain. Once she might have posed threat, but age had made her frail. “You... set free a crazed megalomaniac... and it's not your fault that this happened!?”
“Ror... shach...” she choked.
“Rorschach,” Manhattan echoed forcefully. “This isn't why you're here.”
“Don't care.”
Manhattan floated closer and peered down. “Rorschach. Let her go or I will have to use force. I do not want to have to kill you a second time.”
Fair point, I thought. “Hrm.” I let her go, for now, but would be damned if I ever forgot. All the evil concentrated in this place: now there was someone to blame. After Veidt, after Daniel, after all of them, am not surprised to see another hero fall even further.
“Then tell me,” I rasped, “why am I here?”
Juspeczyk coughed on the ground and crawled away like a cockroach. Knew I'd be back for her and wasn't taking her chances.
“In 1985 you were considered a crazed vigilante, Rorschach,” Manhattan explained. “Your morality was stark and unforgiving. In that time, in that place, it was completely unsuitable. Yet here, in 2025, after the world has faced nuclear and biological Armageddon, there are those in need of you. So I brought you here, as a final kindness, to save mankind. Rorschach, you are an anachronism no more.”
Her eyes were wide with fright. “Jon... what are you saying? You sent Rorschach to save us!? Why!?”
“Because he's the hero you deserve, Laurie. Not just you, but the entire planet. It is the way it has to be. So please, accept him as one of your own. Consider it my final gift to you.”
“But... I...” She looked to me and past the hatred painted on my face and to the empty promise made to her by Manhattan. Would she really expect me to act as some kind of savior to her, or anyone? Her desperation had pushed her to madness, just like the monsters outside, and in that she would believe anything.
From the ground she looked up, like a whore laying in the gutter, and she pleaded with me. “Rorschach, please... save us.”
Considering the world around I had to stop and think. There was a lot to absorb, and a lot more to do. Then, looking into her eyes the answer was clear.
I turned and walked to the door, and as I left I whispered “no.”
END?
Title: Time Skips
Author: floorcandy
Recipient:
avariel_wings
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: 15+
Spoilers: Takes place after the movies conclusion
Warnings: zombies, misogyny and the beating down of an old lady
Request: Request 1 - fandom: Watchmen, either canon
Details: "The politicians and whores will look up and shout "Save us!" And I'll look down and whisper "No"." (I loves me some Rorschach).
Summary: Rorschach wakes in a time not his own. New York just ain't what it used to be.
* * * *
Rorshachs Journal, unknown date
Stood exposed with face in my hand. Tears of rage rolled down cheeks. The screams of millions dead cried out from the mountains of bleached ivory. All of them sinners, all of them cradling a monster inside, but so very few ready for the punishment wrought them.
The injustice of it all! Weak men who called themselves heroes, fools thinking they could scrape away at humanity's black heart with one swift, easy stroke: look what they have done!
Face felt right after putting it back on. It was calming, helped breathing, focused the black hatred back where it belonged. Someone did this. Someone was going to shoulder the blame. Someone was going to pay dearly for their crimes.
Gained high ground and looked to the killing fields of New York City. Was this the world that Veidt had created? Would have seemed a logical conclusion, but something felt wrong. Didn't know what.
Too distracted with death. Waking visions of a grotesque world more twisted than that of usual nightmares overwhelmed. There were more important questions to be asked: questions linked to my purpose here.
Fact. Adrian Veidt hatched mad scheme to kill millions, possibly more. Plan was to achieve world peace.
Fact. Teamed with Daniel, arrived too late to stop him. Manhattan and Juspeczyk arrived shortly after. Veidt, despite questionable display of remorse, was jubilant.
Fact. Veidt's success hinged on our silence. Daniel and Juspeczyk allowed compromise, showed weakness. Manhattan too far removed to care. Was left alone to expose Veidt as the monster he was.
Fact. Manhattan had to ensure secret was safe, murdered me in the snow, yet now find myself peering over bones littered through Times Square. Why? Couldn't be an accident. Manhattan is closest thing to a god there's ever been: he doesn't make mistakes.
Noticed something in the street. Went in for a closer look. Not one, but hundreds filling the roads. The names were familiar: Honda, Mercedes, General Motors, Mitsubishi, but the make of the endless cars were unknown. They had different names and different designs, as though they belonged to a different time.
Time travel? The thought was laughable, but considering the power of Dr Manhattan anything seemed possible. Perhaps he didn't have the nerve to kill me. Perhaps he simply wanted me out of the way. No. Not in his nature to care about people. There was another motive.
Light cracked between the buildings of the silent city. Evening waned to dusk, dragging long shadows across the skyline. This was what true peace looked like. Only possible without the stain of humanity there to spoil it all.
Walked all the way to the other side of Broadway. Dare say enjoyed it. Bodies didn't bother me. Carrion birds had probably picked clean the rotten flesh long ago. Lesser man might be nauseous.
Heard movement. Darted to shadows. For the first time realize am not alone. Somewhat concerned. Hadn't seen so much as a fly since coming here. Thing lurking in the dark was bigger than that.
Found discarded iron rod on the ground and a large shard of glass. They clicked quietly as they were picked up from the ground. Both were better weapons than fists. Lucky they were everywhere.
The fruit of mankind's creation weakly and wearily stepped out of it's hole. It's eyes were pale, it's skin was like leather, the muscle had withered away into hard, dry ropes underneath. The way it reached out made it seem like it was pleading, whether it be for food, water or salvation. Either way it would be denied.
It could have been capable of anything. There was no way to assess situation from the street. Retreat seemed best solution. Grappling hook replaced shard of glass. A better vantage point from the rooftops was required.
Almost immediately noticed the smell of bad meat. Could barely see in the dark the outline of empty cages. One step and a bone snapped. That's when I knew. It was a bird trap and someone... something was still there waiting for it to go off.
A figure leaped out like a hungry spider and screamed at the top of it's lungs an inhuman wail to summon it's allies. The trap had been sprung.
Couldn't allow myself to become it's dinner. Tried to hold it back with the iron rod but it was strong, made that way by desperation and madness. If it ever had a mind it had long since gone, leaving only a ravenous zombie in it's place.
“I'm sorry.”
Strange. Felt genuinely sorry for it, though didn't stop me from using it's weight against it, flinging it from the rooftop. This wasn't like the wave of scum of old New York fighting for power, money, sex or greed: this was fight or flight, survival mode. Far deadlier. Can almost respect their ruthlessness.
It's scream called the attention of the others. They were faster, more agile than humans and climbed the building like an army of insects. Didn't know how many of them I could possibly take, but making a few vital shots with the glass would buy a little time. Enough for a plan? Maybe.
“Come and get me,” I bellowed. “You want a wrestle down a good meal? I'm right here!”
Taunting them as though they could understand. Should have known better right from the start. Speak to them in their own language. Use feet and fists to beat the message into them: tell them there's no food to be found here.
Fragile bones snapped like twigs, but they seemed to feel no pain. Even as they poked sharply from their torn skin their thoughts were only on one thing: drown their prey, consume its flesh, stave off hunger for another night. Damned if that was going to happen.
Swipe of the shard's sharp edge took one of their heads clean off. A focused kick shattered a spine, leaving one to crawl like a snake. To another left a shattered neck and to another still left fragments of rib piercing it's lungs. The regular scum would think twice after this, but these were not the regular scum.
Each counter-attack bought just a seconds reprieve. Needed a more permanent solution. Only weakness noted so far was photosensitivity, but no light was to be found. The city had no power, nothing to start a fire with. Had to admit, things were looking grim.
Suddenly was bombarded by deafening sound. Something descended on gray wings. Trying not to describe as 'dark angel': implies faith in superstition.
Sound was perfect distraction. Used it as chance to run. Ears rang, were probably bleeding. Didn't care. Had to escape. Didn't get far before being snatched up from behind. A larger predator, perhaps? Fought to break free before we got too high.
It tightened it's grip, then spoke. “Hold still, would ya? Unless you want to fall and kill yourself!”
I stopped. Not a zombie. Human. Couldn't relax yet. Had to assess the danger. Start with simple question. “Who are you?”
“You're kidding, right? Who do you think spends most of his nights pulling you guys out of these things?”
He acted familiar with me. Knew who I was? Why I was here? Spoke as though I was part of a larger group. Saw opportunity to learn Dr Manhattan's intentions.
Lots of questions to ask. One still seemed prudent. “Who are you?”
“You really don't know who I am?” Clearly didn't. “The name's Nite Owl. I'm a superhero. Probably the last one left on the entire planet, and I just saved your bacon.”
Said name was Nite Owl, but wasn't Daniel. Had a young voice, might have been a kid: a stupid kid who thought putting on a mask and costume was supposed to be fun. Seemed to enjoy coming to my rescue. Didn't take the work seriously. Already didn't like him.
“Where are we going?”
“Where do you think?” he retorted as though it were obvious. Might have been if I were from the same time.
Damn you, Manhattan. Where did you send me?
* * * *
Madison Square Garden lay packed with a sea of the destitute, the survivors of armageddon. Funny, somehow remembered armageddon differently. Nite Owl landed, left me alone to find way myself. Good, but had questions first.
“What happened here?”
He stopped, paused. “Is... that a trick question?”
“I don't ask trick questions,” I hissed. “Tell me what happened here. Why are all these people here? What were those things that were chasing me?”
“You can't be serious.” The hand around his throat said I was. He fought me off and choked out an answer. “Alright! Fine!” He sighed, cursed me under his breathe. Still needed answers. “They're Veidt's 'new breed'.”
“New breed of what!?”
“Human! His way of helping humanity survive the nuclear holocaust. Don't you remember?”
“No,” I said. “Been out of town. Tell me more.”
Nite Owl stared as though I'd just come from outer space. Maybe I had. “When the bombs started to fall we were facing an extinction level event, so it was up to the old heroes to search for a solution. They wanted humanity to survive but didn't calculate the cost.”
“What bombs?”
The kid shook his head. Snatched his arm, but he pulled it away. Practically grunted his answer back at me. “The Russians, man. World War Three, started by you guys! Don't try and act oblivious!”
I sneered bitterly. “Who do you think I am?”
“Cult of Rorschach.” Nite Owl nodded to an assembly by the stands. They wore black and white paint patterned symmetrically: a horrifying parody of my face. “You and that diary of his, like it's some kind of bible.”
Foul mimics sat around the fire. Among them two girls, one looking like the leader of the group, submitting to carnal lusts. Girls kissing girls, reawakening the spirit of Babylon's whore. End times indeed.
Decided to make introduction, walked toward them. They should have picked someone else to deify: another god more forgiving.
Wasn't long before I was noticed. Soon was surrounded by pack animals. They clung tight to illusion they owned that piece of land and the symbols they bore. Territorial beasts stealing from higher on the chain.
“Those are our colors, man,” scowled smaller rat. “Those colors have to be earned. You can't just walk in here and...”
“Shut up.” Hard boot toppling a metal drum scattered burning garbage everywhere. They ran like vermin, like savages afraid of the flames. Wasted no time and began putting fists to faces, elbows to throats, knees to groins and more. In the language of violence was still most fluent.
Red stained black and white faces. Splattered everywhere: senseless, random. Was like art. Was what Rorschach was really all about. Things hidden in the shapes. Nothing ever as simple as it first appears.
Shotgun blast rang out into the night, not from the pack but from behind us. Someone else wanted a piece of the action. In moment of confused silence a single voiced screamed, “ENOUGH!”
No. Couldn't have been. She was still alive? Didn't expect her to outlast the others, especially Daniel who was always more prepared. Could almost make out her face under worn wrinkles and gray hair, but voice was unmistakable. Two guards stood at either side, both armed to the teeth. Behind them, kid who thinks he's Nite Owl.
“There will be no in-fighting so long as you're here,” Juspeczyk hissed. “This is a sanctuary! The real enemies are out there clawing for our flesh! If you're so desperate for something to hit you're more than free to go outside!”
Cult leader lifted her head, spat out teeth. She pleaded like a bitch who'd been swatted across the nose. “It wasn't us, Spectra. It was this crazy fucker right here! First he comes wearing our colors and then...”
“Hrm. My colors first,” I grunted.
“Fucking maniac!”
Juspeczyk's eyes narrowed. Was it really a ghost before her, or something more substantial? One fact became clear: Juspeczyk was not responsible for my being here.
“Oh my god,” she gasped. “Rorschach? Is that...? No. No, you're dead.”
“Dead as you are,” I observed. “Hrm.”
The crowd parted around her as she moved. Held her in reverence. Not a luxury I would afford her. Her hand reached to touch me, slapped it away. Did she think I was sentimental? Memory must have gone with old age.
Her expression contorted. “Oh god, it really is you, but... but this doesn't make any sense! I saw you... in the snow! There was blood splattered everywhere. Your coat, your hat, your mask...”
“Yet here I stand,” I asked. “How?”
“I... I don't know, but maybe we should talk somewhere more private.” Looking around at the gathering privacy seemed like good idea. Meant getting away from low grade pretenders too defensive for their own good.
Followed Juspeczyk past shanty town in the bleachers. Saw dog meat being turned on spit. Never had a thing for dogs. Meat doesn't smell too good either.
Children covered in blackened gashes, clothed by the Gap. Black, white, Hispanic, Asian: the color divide had been broken down. The open chasm between rich and poor, pauper and prince had been bridged by the great equalizer: absolute destruction. Veidt's dream of unity lead mankind straight into the gutter.
Juspeczyk peered back. “Well?”
“A lot has changed.”
“You don't know the half of it,” she chided. Then she stopped, paused, considered... what? “You... are really him, aren't you?”
“You were quick to believe I was before. Suspect I might have been expected.”
“Expected?” She laughed then slammed the steel door behind her. Locks behind bolted automatically, but could easily be opened from the inside. “Yes, Rorschach, that's exactly it. The last I saw you were a fine mist. Of course I was expecting you to return after the world ended!”
Sarcasm. Pointless defense mechanism. She knew nothing. “If not you, then Dr Manhattan. Extent of his powers were uncharted even in my time. He could see past, present, future. Perhaps he could also manipulate history.”
“What? Why would he go to all the trouble of flinging you into the...?”
Sudden flash of light blinded me. Could feel familiar sensation of hairs standing on end. Static charge filled the room as ominous figure floated before us. Just as we were talking about him Dr Manhattan appeared as if to answer questions. Too much coincidence.
“Jon!” Juspeczyk seemed happy to see him. Ran up to him, then stopped before embracing him. “Oh my god! I haven't seen you since... since... it's been years! Jon...”
He looked past her like she was invisible. His attention lay squarely on me. Felt cold staring back at the diety, but wouldn't back away. Removed from humanity, maybe, but still a man deep down somewhere.
“Hello, Rorschach,” he stated simply. “I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”
Juspeczyk looked weak. She pleaded to the cosmic god for the tiniest morsel, but he would not give. Old and frail she no longer had sex to wave at him. “Jon? Jon, say something to me!”
“Seems pointless. You already know what I'm going to ask.”
“Yes, I do know, but only because you ask it in the future. If not then I will never know.”
“Jon,” she pleaded, “please talk to me. Please. We're starving. You can make food, water, medicine, anything! You can... you can kill all of these things with a thought! Jon, you can put a stop to all of this! Please!”
“You sent me here,” I said. Manhattan nodded. “To when? What happened here?”
“This is the world you undid, Rorschach. Your diary, released to the world, made it topple. When they learned of Veidt's mechanations it did not take the world's nations long to turn on each other again. There was a war...”
“I saw it all,” I told him. “Whatever they dropped wasn't a nuke. People... civilians, turned into flesh eating monsters. They banded together and tore the city apart. Kid mentioned Veidt...”
“They were called the 'new breed.' Veidt created a drug that would grant recipients a degree of protection from nuclear fallout. However, the side effects were catastrophic.”
Crawling to one side Juspeczyk laid her head in her hands and wept. She had looked upon a god and realized that she was nothing. Pressed against the wall with no hope left and prayers unanswered she quietly gave up. “Jon...” Or not.
“Veidt did this!?”
“With the help of Daniel and Laurie,” Manhattan said. “Without their influence the government would have never allowed him the resources to...”
“YOU!” Old hag or not Juspeczyk was accountable. I raced to her, kicked the seat from under her and wrapped my hands around her throat: just enough to scare her until I had the rest of my answers. I let go and let her drop.
All the while her eyes weren't on me. “Is this... why you're ignoring me, Jon? You're blaming me for letting Veidt hatch another master plan? It wasn't our fault! We didn't know this was going to happen.”
Wrapped her throat again. My grip tightened. Her arms flailed against me, but I could endure the pain. Once she might have posed threat, but age had made her frail. “You... set free a crazed megalomaniac... and it's not your fault that this happened!?”
“Ror... shach...” she choked.
“Rorschach,” Manhattan echoed forcefully. “This isn't why you're here.”
“Don't care.”
Manhattan floated closer and peered down. “Rorschach. Let her go or I will have to use force. I do not want to have to kill you a second time.”
Fair point, I thought. “Hrm.” I let her go, for now, but would be damned if I ever forgot. All the evil concentrated in this place: now there was someone to blame. After Veidt, after Daniel, after all of them, am not surprised to see another hero fall even further.
“Then tell me,” I rasped, “why am I here?”
Juspeczyk coughed on the ground and crawled away like a cockroach. Knew I'd be back for her and wasn't taking her chances.
“In 1985 you were considered a crazed vigilante, Rorschach,” Manhattan explained. “Your morality was stark and unforgiving. In that time, in that place, it was completely unsuitable. Yet here, in 2025, after the world has faced nuclear and biological Armageddon, there are those in need of you. So I brought you here, as a final kindness, to save mankind. Rorschach, you are an anachronism no more.”
Her eyes were wide with fright. “Jon... what are you saying? You sent Rorschach to save us!? Why!?”
“Because he's the hero you deserve, Laurie. Not just you, but the entire planet. It is the way it has to be. So please, accept him as one of your own. Consider it my final gift to you.”
“But... I...” She looked to me and past the hatred painted on my face and to the empty promise made to her by Manhattan. Would she really expect me to act as some kind of savior to her, or anyone? Her desperation had pushed her to madness, just like the monsters outside, and in that she would believe anything.
From the ground she looked up, like a whore laying in the gutter, and she pleaded with me. “Rorschach, please... save us.”
Considering the world around I had to stop and think. There was a lot to absorb, and a lot more to do. Then, looking into her eyes the answer was clear.
I turned and walked to the door, and as I left I whispered “no.”
END?