Watchmen (”In Prison” Monologue)

You keep calling me Walter and I don’t like you. You’re fat. Wealthy. Your liberal sensibilities, what you call passion, wanting to protect and understand the guilty, this rotting society, what it calls rehabilitation. Nothing short of compromise. There are men in here with behavior more extreme than mine, Doctor. Of course, they’re not famous, are they?

You want to know about Rorschach? I’ll tell you about Rorschach. Once a man has seen society’s black underbelly, he can never turn his back on it. Never pretend, like you do, that it doesn’t exist, no matter who orders him to look the other way.

We don’t do this “thing” ’cause it’s permitted. We do it because we have to. We do it because we’re compelled.

I was investigating a kidnap case. Blair Roach. 6 year old girl.

I was young then. Too soft on criminals.

I let them live.

Broke a man’s arm to get a tip. Led me to the missing girl’s location. I knew the girl was here, but when I searched the place, I saw nothing.

And then I found her.

It was dark when the murderer got back. As dark as it gets.

Men get arrested. Dogs get put down.

The tremors of impact shook my arm. Warm blood splashed my face. Whatever was left of Walter Kovacs died that night with that little girl. From then on, there was only Rorschach.

See Doctor, God didn’t kill that little girl. Fate didn’t butcher her, destiny didn’t feed her to those dogs. If God saw what any of us did that night, he didn’t seem to mind. From then on, I knew: God doesn’t make the world this way. We do.