|A broken past
Author: NightmareThunderSocks PM
Elena West is the daughter of a dead vigilante. 16 years after the disappearance of The Watchmen, the darkness of the Underworld finally leaves it's first scars on the woman who thought she had escaped from her past. After a meeting with the masked vigilante Rorschach, Elena cannot shake the feeling that she is being dragged into the darkness again. EVENTUAL OC/RORSCHACH ROMANCERated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Romance - Walter K./Rorschach - Chapters: 2 - Words: 3,545 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 4 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 02-14-13 - Published: 01-03-13 - id: 8869699
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
NOTE: Just experimenting really with this, please review and tell me if I should continue. It's pretty off topic to what happened in the graphic novel/movie, so im pretty much just going with wherever my mind takes me.
I own nothing apart from the words on the page and the West Family (Elena + Black Angel)
"Never compromise. Not even in the face of Armageddon. That's always been the difference between us"
I'm 21 years old next month, and in all my 21 years of life on Earth, I did not expect to be stuck in a dead end job working the tills at Walmart. I've been writing to you for as long as I can remember; it's funny now thinking about how I always used to talk about what boys I liked, and the bitchy girls who shoved me in the lunch line and took my money. Now I like to write about how much of a failure I am, and no matter how hard I work to get out of this rut I'm stuck in, I see no future for me than this 2 bedroom apartment and the tills at Walmart.
You've always listened to me haven't you? I don't know where I would be without my trusty friend to write in. You are my only friend in this world, the only person who understands the obsession I have with the vigilantes of the 80's. I'm smiling as I'm writing this; it's ironic to think that my mother was a crime fighter. The 'Black Angel' they called her, more of an anti-hero than a superhero. She knew Rorschach very well, my idol. The man I have been infatuated over for my entire life. I remember the day he was in my house; sitting on my sofa speaking in an urgent voice to my mother, ink blots dancing across his face. I was too young to understand any of the words they were using, but the look of defeat on my mother's face translated well in my 8 year old mind. She was going away again, possibly never to come back. 'Mummy? Shack?,' I croaked. It was at that moment both Rorschach and my mother spun round to where I was standing. Barely a second passed before he walked to the window and jumped out. My mother went out our front door, telling me in a soft voice, 'Go to bed honey, I have business to take care of,' that was the last time I saw either of them. My mother and my hero were never seen by anyone ever again.
I closed my journal and looked at the grubby clock on the wall, 8.45pm it read; time to get ready for the night-shift at Walmart. I looked at myself in the mirror, smiling at my reflection. A few weeks ago I had dyed my hair the whitest blonde I could find, just for a change. I liked it because it shone silver in the moonlight. I scraped my hair up into a messy bun and set about applying some make up. I didn't exactly try hard to go to work, but on the night shift I usually saw people I knew from high school, so my motto is 'it's better to look pretty and poor than ugly and poor'. I snorted a laugh into the mirror, my eyes ice blue and cold. Turning away from the bathroom mirror I walked into my bedroom and pulled on my obligatory Walmart polo shirt. They didn't care what I wore on my bottom half, so I slipped into some dark navy skinny jeans and lace up, lightweight army boots. Walking over to my sofa, I picked up my leather jacket and shrugged into it, before walking out the door and down the steps into the cold winter night.
As I walked down the backstreets, I kept on constant alert but I let my mind wander to my younger days. The few friends I had at school always said that I was like a chameleon, always changing the façade I put on, resulting in nobody really knowing who I was inside. In reality I was a broken girl, who hid behind a mask of cold indifference towards anyone and anything around me. I lived alone in the apartment my mother and I shared, it used to be a safe house for the Watchmen and I dared not move out in case any of them came back. So I guess that's why I'm still there, in the grubby apartment right on the edge of the most criminally abundant part of downtown in this city. I don't know why I'm brave enough to take shortcuts through alleys just to get to work, when I know full well that when the sun sets, the underworld rises.
As if to solidify my thoughts, I rounded a corner and immediately regretted it. A number of drunken men were leaning on the alley wall, one actually urinating up it. I don't think my eyes could have gone any wider, as I realised what a pickle I was in. I couldn't turn back, so I strode forward, eyes focused on the road I could see at the end of the alleyway, completely blocking out the leering, hungry glares of the 4 or 5 men surrounding me. At only 5'4, these men tower over me and my fear seems to make me curl in on myself, making me seem even smaller than I am. I noticed movement on my right, one of the drunks had begun to walk towards me, his eyes roaming over my body.
'Y'alright sweetie,' He smirked, his bloodshot eyes seemed to be undressing me.
'I need t-t-to get to w-w-w-work,' I stuttered, frantically increasing my pace until I was almost jogging, focusing my brain on the quick thuds of my boots. Subconsciously, I began thinking of my options of what I could do if I was attacked. I'm not completely vulnerable, after my mother disappeared, I was visited by Nite Owl for a few months very regularly, and he taught me how to protect myself now I was alone.
The leering man grabbed my arm and quickly, gracefully and with a feral violence I spun my body around, snapping one leg into my chest before throwing it out, connecting with his abdomen. The second he released me I feinted to the side, out of the hungry grasp of the man who had urinated up the wall. The third man grabbed me and he threw me to the floor, scratching at the front of my jeans with grubby fingers. My breath came out in quick shallow gasps as I threw my body around, trying to get him off me with all my might. Everything I had learnt had vanished from my mind, but as the adrenaline pumped through my veins I managed to hook my leg over his neck, reaching with my hand to grab my ankle before squeezing tight. The choking sounds he made were satisfying but short lived, as before I thought I could do any real damage someone had grabbed me under my arms and dragged me backwards with such speed it made me dizzy. Before I could react I was up in a fire exit. I realised my eyes were scrunched shut and I opened them, only to be greeted by the last person I expected to see.
'Holy shit! Rorschach?!' I gasped, reaching out with my hands to touch his face, he couldn't be real. He's dead. He shrunk back into the shadows with a growl and I immediately retracted my hand, cowering into the bars of the fire escape balcony.
'Stupid stunt you pulled there,' he said gruffly, but I barely made sense of his words, I was too mesmerised by the swirling ink blot pattern of his mask. 'Could have been killed. Alleys no place for women. But you fought well,' His praise sang through me, but was cut short as I realised that he did not know who I was.
'It's me. Elena. Black Angel's daughter. Thought you were dead. My mother never came back after she left with you,' I panted, the adrenaline was leaving my body and I began to feel very weak. The way his head snapped up to stare at me was frightening; his body language suddenly became more threatening than I remember seeing him when I was a kid.
'Elena West,' he murmured, as if testing my name on his tongue. I liked the way he said my name, made me feel important. 'You still in the apartment? Not safe. Not safe at all. Bad people killed Black Angel. You showing off your skills will attract bad press from underworld. Not always around to save you,' He said wearily, leaning back against the railing opposite me. 'Go home now. I'll escort you back,'
I stood slowly and followed him down the flights of stairs, my eyes never leaving his figure. He was exactly how I remembered him, and the awe I felt all my life bubbled to the surface and refused to go away. 'Some part of me knew you weren't dead. You're stronger than my mother ever was. But how are you still so young. You should be nearly 60 by now. Wait, don't tell me… magic,' the chatter that came out of my mouth surprised even me, but I felt delirious with both shock at what had happened to me and happiness at seeing my idol.
'Shut up,' he growled, the anger rolling off him at my questions, 'You need to stay silent. Gang members will find buddies soon and they'll try and find you. I think the one you choked might be dead,' his hissed words drew me up short. I killed someone? No, I couldn't have. I'm not strong enough to be able to choke a man twice as big as me.
We had reached the steps of my apartment, and he stood away from me, hands in the pockets of his trench coat. With a sad smile I reached out my hand to shake his, and he took it. He squeezed my hand once before turning away and walking into the night, without a glance back at me once. Sighing, I unlocked the door and walked in, shutting out the night behind me. The tears started rolling down my cheeks and the sobs racked through my chest.