Rorschach Journal, October 11, 1985
Mafioso family was dispatched today. Robert Mafioso drowned, his father died of heart failure. The rest of the gang were either dead, retired, or drunks and transients. Must keep vigilance, new gang sure to fill up the still warm gaping seat of newly vacated control.
Abigail Mary Linde died today.
*
He stared at the last line for a long time, not knowing what to write next. Something rubbed on his leg. He looked down to see the spotted cat stare up at him with large emerald eyes. Rorschach drove his attention away from the animal and tried to think of what to write next. He felt a knot in his throat and tried to swallow it down. His eyes burned and he squeezed them shut. Something hot dampened the corners of face.
She's gone. Forever.
Walter balled his fists so tight, his tendons ached. Vivid images of her smiling face melded with the blood of her dying in his arms. He heard her voice in his head, calling him Walter and Rorschach at the same time, over and over again. He tugged his hat down and folded the edges over his ears to try and make the noises stop, to get away from the pangs of guilt eating up his insides.
He breathed in short gasps as his shoulders shook slightly. He looked up and took his face off again, feeling the night air caress his warm face. The cat rubbed on his leg again. He looked down to see nothing there. He never saw it again...
…"You know I can't let you do that." It was Manhattan. His ethereal blue body was between him and the truth.
He takes off his mask and looks at him in what was his eyes, "Of course. Must protect Veidt's new utopia. One more body amongst foundations makes little difference. Well? What are you waiting for? Do it."
"Rorschach..." His voice was sad, it was always sad. Rorschach screams in reply, without his mask and tears erupting from his eyes, "Do it!"
He was thinking of her.