Kovac's Journal. March, 1964.

Made a revelation today. Humanity is a diseased flower, an ugly, withering creature that clings to life. The disease is overwhelming. Woman who ordered dress two years ago turned up dead. Tortured. Raped. There were witnesses, but it didn't matter. Nobody said anything. Somebody has to put a cure to this dying flower. Mankind shows how ugly it truly is. Can't bear to look in a mirror anymore. Terrible. Ugly. Fabric from that woman's dress will go to a better use. Creating a face that I can stand to look at from it. A face that the withered members of society will come to fear. Hermann Rorschach. Brilliant man. Created a piece of art that gives insight to the insane mind. My new face reminds me of that art. Rorschach. Fitting name. Perfect. Will begin my second job tonight.

(More to come. Nite Owl II is not active at this point, so there won't be anything from his memoirs until later on. For now though, I'm getting into the practice of the way Rorschach speaks.)