"No!" The voice wailed from the back lot. It wasn't a child's voice which is all that kept Rorschach from smashing through the small window. The noise would give him away, and possibly injure him.
Not a child's voice, but child-like, the cadence slow and deliberate, like that simple-minded man who manned the outside part of the fruit stand on the corner while his boss stayed inside in the air conditioning.
"It is not the little one's fault! Please let me in!"
There was a small, nondescript dog pawing desperately at the door. It was more couch cushion than wolf at the door, barely knee-high, fat and ridiculous, and the voice was coming from a device on its collar. While Rorschach processed that, heavy footsteps shook the screen door in its frame and the dog backed away quickly before it flew open with a bang. The dog melted into a lump, all pleading eyes in a furry puddle.
"You want inside??" The man's voice was dangerous between his teeth.
"…yes, Master…" the dog's collar said. The man seethed, but stepped aside, and the dog managed to hurry over the threshold without losing any contact with the floor. The door slammed shut behind them. There was no click of the lock, and Rorschach crept closer.
"Look at this!" the man's voice suddenly bellowed. "Look what you made me do!! I told you never come in here! Never to talk to them! This is all your fault!" There was a thud and a yelp, and a louder thud. With that kind of noise, no one heard Rorschach open the screen door, or the main door behind it. "Stupid freak!" the man screamed. Every word was followed by another thump. "You. Are. A. Bad. Dog!"
Rorschach saw the man beating the dog with all the strength in his drunken frame. The dog cried when it was hit, but it wasn't looking at the enraged owner. It was looking at what was left of the child in the corner, next to the furnace.