A/N: Sorry this took so long. This is the last chapter and I wanted to get it just right. I hope this kind of explains where I was going with this and the impression I wanted to make. Please review.
When Rorschach arrived in the warehouse, he discovered that he had not been the first to discover the thugs' hideout. The girl was already there. While he'd been searching the city, the girl had discovered the old warehouse. She'd thought about what to do once she'd located it. She thought about trying to find Rorschach, tell him what she'd found, maybe warn him to be careful. She even thought about contacting the police. They might send someone down here to see if they could collect a bribe and ultimately clear the place out. That idea she rejected. Not only was it contrary to everything she knew Rorschach believed and would therefore infuriate him if he found out she'd done such a thing, but it would probably just make things worse. These criminals would just find another hiding place, one that maybe she wouldn't be so lucky in locating. No, she would have to try to find Rorschach. She could lead him here, he could investigate the area, maybe set up some traps so that when he got the drop on them, it would be too late for them to cause him any harm.
The girl had turned to go when she suddenly heard the creak of a door opening behind her. She whirled around and found herself making eye contact with the very same man that had attacked her. Even though it had been dark, there was no way she wouldn't recognize him. He'd forced her to look at him.
In that second of recognition, fear coursed through the girl's veins, freezing her in her stance even while her mind screamed that she needed to run. The pounding of her heart was almost painfully intense against her ribcage.
A moment later, her attacker recovered from the shock of seeing her there and a lecherous grin slowly spread across his face. He began to move quickly towards her, asking her why she'd come back, did she want some more? He called her a dirty slut, a filthy whore. Then, he asked if she'd fucked the mask, too.
He was only a few feet from her when his comments somehow pierced the veil of fear that had enveloped her, sparking a flare of rage that swiftly grew inside her. Her mouth twisting into a snarl, the girl launched herself at the man, her small fists flying towards his face. Her wild attack caught him by surprise and knocked him to the pavement. Grasping his hair, she smacked his head against the ground as hard as she could repeatedly. His cries didn't even register in her brain. She barely felt his hands hitting her, clawing at her. The only thing that mattered was keeping her grip on his hair no matter what and smacking his head against the ground until he stopped fighting her.
When multiple sets of new hands grabbed her and forcibly yanked her away, she continued to fight, her eyes still locked on the man who'd assaulted her. He was no longer moving and there was a large pool of blood haloing his head, but his eyes were still open, mocking her. It wasn't until she found that she couldn't get free that she realized that other men from the gang now had a hold of her. Her eyes went wide and she felt the first sickening tendrils of despair grip her heart. Two men kept her still while a third moved to check on their companion. He looked shocked when he looked back at the others and reported that she'd killed him.
The man on her right tightened his hold on her arm, his fingers digging into her skin. He told the others to bring the body inside as he began dragging her towards the warehouse. She dug her heels in, twisting frantically to try and escape. She knew that once they had her inside that building, there would be little hope for her. She started to scream, hoping against hope that someone might hear her and help her even though no one had answered her cries when the now deceased man had attacked her in her home. Her scream was cut off quickly, however, by a sharp slap across her face that made her vision go blurry for a few long moments. A heavy metallic taste on her tongue made her realize the blow had split her lip.
The door to the warehouse loomed closer. The dark opening into the building looked like the mouth of a beast to the girl. It seemed eager to swallow her forever. She started to kick at the men holding her arms, but it was no use. They dragged her through the door and shut it behind them, the sound like the beast's jaws clamping shut.
By the time Rorschach entered the building, the girl looked even worse than she had when he found her in the alley. She was barely moving, soft moans accompanying her shallow breaths. She was still conscious, but hated every moment of it. She just wanted everything to stop even if that meant dying. Her whole world was pain. Any escape would be welcome.
Rorschach didn't notice her at first. He was preoccupied with utilizing the moment of shocked stillness that followed his arrival. There were four men in the building. Rorschach immobilized two, snapping one neck and knocking out the other, before the rest had a chance to act. The remaining pair both pulled guns. A bullet grazed Rorschach's shoulder before he managed to get inside the defenses of his third victim. He swiftly broke his arm so that he couldn't fire his weapon again and ducked behind him so that the final villain's bullets buried themselves in his comrade. Looking over the shoulder of his human shield, Rorschach observed his prey.
"Not many bullets left." He observed.
He wasn't concerned about those last few bullets. They wouldn't stop him. It was only a matter of time before he eliminated this garbage. He could already see the panic in his eyes. Rorschach grinned in anticipation.
Rorschach's grin cemented the criminal's fear. He frantically searched the area for anything that might save him. His eyes landed on the crumpled form of the girl. Leaping towards her, he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her onto her knees, pressing the barrel of his gun against her temple. The girl choked on a sob at this new pain, but didn't say anything. She'd only just become aware of Rorschach when he spoke, but it wasn't until feeling this pain that she was sure that she wasn't just imagining his presence. She wasn't dreaming. This was real. He was really there. Her heart soared. If her face hadn't been a swollen, broken mess she would have smiled. She hadn't known him for very long, but he was the only one in her life that had never failed her. Even now, even though she'd thought it impossible to hope that he'd find her, he was here. Her savior.
"I'll shoot her!" The panicked criminal threatened.
The girl could feel him shaking.
Rorschach looked at the girl for a moment, frowning. Then, he looked back up at the vermin holding her.
"Do it." He growled.
"W…what?!" the man exclaimed, his eyes going impossibly wide.
"Do it!" Rorschach yelled, dropping the body that had shielded him and moving closer.
The man's wide eyes flickered from Rorschach to the girl in confusion and in that instant, Rorschach struck. He lunged at him, taking him from an angle so that he wouldn't have time to bring his arm around with the gun. As Rorschach's body impacted with the crook, the gun went off, the sound bouncing off the walls of the metal building.
Rorschach's fists began hammering against the man's face before his body even hit the ground. More and more blood coated Rorschach's gloves until he finally stopped, satisfied with the now concave skull and shattered features that had once been a living blight on the city.
Rorschach stood and turned. The girl was lying on the ground next to them, her face turned towards the newest death. When she turned her head to look up at Rorschach, he could see fresh blood from the man's face splattered across her's. Her eyes were surprising. There was no fear in them anymore. No…there was…satisfaction.
The girl's breath hitched and Rorschach noticed the fresh blood stain spreading across her shirt. The bullet meant for her brain had found her chest instead. She was not going to make it. He was certain of that. There was no point in trying to move her. Rorschach slowly moved closer, hesitantly crouched at her side.
"I'm…sorry." He finally told her.
"No." The girl answered, her voice barely a whisper, the gurgle of blood spilling into her lungs distorting her speech enough to make Rorschach lean a little closer to hear her, "Nothing to be sorry for."
She coughed weakly, her body attempting to dispel the fluid even though it was a futile attempt.
"You stopped them. You fight them all." The girl's voice was wavering.
She was drowning in her own blood. Rorschach knew that it wouldn't be long now. The girl's eyes closed and her body stilled, the blood dripping out of her mouth. Rorschach was almost sure she'd died when her eyes flickered open again. She had to hold on for just a moment longer. She had to tell him even if he might not understand.
"I…love…you." She gasped before shuddering, one last gurgle of blood bubbling through her throat.
Rorschach stiffened, staring down at the girl for a few long moments. Finally, he stood up and moved away from her. The thug that he'd knocked unconscious was beginning to stir. Rorschach brought his boot down with brutal force on the back of the man's neck, nodding to himself when he heard the bones shatter. Looking around the room, Rorschach noticed now that there was an extra body, a man that he had not killed. Moving over to it, Rorschach checked the corpse and found that the back of the man's head had been bashed in. Looking back towards the girl, he wondered if she'd done this. She must have. He smiled grimly, pleased that she'd managed to kill one of them. Glancing once more around the room, Rorschach moved to the door. The dark pattern of his face shifted subtly as he stepped outside. An average psychiatric patient asked to identify the pattern might have described it as a crushed insect. A more disturbed individual, one who'd faced the truth in all its horrifying intensity, might say that it looked like a bunch of mutilated bodies, left to bleed until the blood dried up.
November 8th, 1978 (Continued)
Thought about just leaving all the bodies to rot, but decided there is enough festering in this city. Instead decided to burn the place. Seemed fitting considering proximity to dressmaker shop from the Blair Roche case. Stayed for awhile to watch it burn.
On the way home, a whore about twelve offered me Chinese love. The strange girl said she loved me before she died. Not like a prostitute looking for a john. No, more like the honest American love that people write about. I've read about it in the New Frontiersmen.
There is no American love anymore. I watched it die today.