MOLLY THE MAID STORY PART 2

-17 MINUTES AGO-

The room buzzes with excitement and murmurs as Alexander and Rorschach sit across from each other at the gambling table, cards in hand. Alexander studies his opponent, the man's intense, inscrutable gaze hidden behind his mask. The surrounding patrons watch in silence, sensing the unusual tension between the two men.

Alexander: So, mind telling me who you are?

Rorschach glances up from his cards, his expression unreadable beneath his mask. He leans forward slightly, speaking in a low, gruff voice.

Rorschach: My name… don't matter to you. But if you're askin' about my occupation…

He pauses, his voice steady and unyielding.

Rorschach: I'm one of the Watchmen.

Alexander raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the mention of the notorious vigilante group. He studies Rorschach, his interest piqued by the mysterious stranger's presence.

Alexander: The Watchmen, huh? Alright, I'll bite. What does a Watchman want with me? A bit dramatic, don't you think, Mr. Rorschach?

Rorschach places his cards on the table, his gaze locked onto Alexander's.

Rorschach: I've got a mission. And I need someone with your gestures to the wealth and influence surrounding resources. This is bigger than just a simple bet, Stark.

Alexander smirks, placing his own cards down, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.

Alexander: A mission, is it? I'll play along. But tell me why should I even consider helping you?

Rorschach's gloved hand grips his cards tightly, his voice a cold whisper as he leans in.

Rorschach: Because this isn't just any mission. It's a chance to change the world or burn it to the ground.

Alexander leans back, swirling his drink as he eyes Rorschach across the table, a smirk playing on his lips.

Alexander: "Change the world or burn it to the ground," huh? Care to explain what that even means, Mr. Rorschach?

Rorschach's expression remains unreadable beneath his mask. He glances around, as if considering whether to share more. Finally, he leans forward, his tone hushed and ominous.

Rorschach: According to Dr. Manhattan, there's… something coming. A threat. Something that puts us all in danger. And it involves a kid… a boy named Damian. When he's by your side, the course of things will shift, one way or another.

Alexander frowns, his intrigue turning to mild confusion.

Alexander: Damian? I don't even know a Damian. Who is he supposed to be? And who, exactly, is Damian?

Rorschach shrugs, his voice deadpan.

Rorschach: I don't know either. All I know is what Dr. Manhattan told me. He sees the future sees paths we can't. And he wanted you aware of it.

Alexander regards him for a moment, then glances down at his hand of cards and breaks into a slow, confident grin.

Alexander: Well, I hate to distract you from your mission, but it looks like I won this hand.

He lays his cards down with a flourish, the crowd murmuring in excitement as he sweeps up the chips from the table. Rorschach's hand twitches slightly, but he pushes back his chair and rises to his feet.

Rorschach: Since you won, I'll take my leave.

He fixes Alexander with a penetrating stare.

Rorschach: Remember, Stark whether you choose to change the world or burn it to the ground… that's your fate. Sooner or later, you'll have to decide.

With that, Rorschach turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd as Alexander watches him go, the cryptic warning lingering in his mind.

-CURRENT-

Young Molly's father stumbles forward, gripping a rough plank of wood, his face twisted with drunken anger.

Drunk Father: Chip me an' 'is daugh'er alone 'his is my family ma''er!

He swings the plank toward Alexander, but Alexander steps aside, his movements quick and fluid. He dodges easily, then counters with a series of graceful, powerful moves, blending Capoeira and Kyokushin karate. With a final kick, he knocks the man to the ground, leaving him groaning in defeat.

Alexander looks at Molly, his expression softening.

Alexander: Molly, I want you to choose… Will you stay here with him, or come with me and work as my maid? I can keep you safe. No one should have to live like this.

Young Molly looks at her father, lying on the ground, then back at Alexander. Her voice wavers but is steady.

Young Molly: I… i'll go wi'h you, mr. S'ark. I don'' wan' 'o live like 'his anymawe.

Alexander nods, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Alexander: Then let's go.

Alexander crouches down, motioning for young Molly to climb onto his back. She hesitates for just a moment, then wraps her arms around his shoulders, clinging tightly. With a reassuring grip, Alexander hoists her up, securing her in place before glancing back at the scene they're leaving behind.

Drunk Father: You'll pay faw 'his, you 'ear me?! you can'' jus' 'ake 'er away from me! i'll find ya!

Ignoring the shouts, Alexander starts running, weaving through the crowded street with Molly on his back. He moves swiftly, each stride putting more distance between them and her father's furious threats.

Molly buries her face in Alexander's shoulder, a mix of relief and fear coursing through her. Alexander's pace never falters, and as the sounds of the man's shouting fade into the distance, Molly feels a sense of safety beginning to settle around her for the first time that she manage to sleep in Alexander's back.

-NEXT DAY-

Young Molly slowly stirs awake, the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains. She blinks a few times, taking in her surroundings an unfamiliar, luxurious room with plush furniture and a large bed. Her eyes widen as she tries to make sense of where she is.

Young Molly: Where am I?

A calm voice breaks the silence, and Molly jumps, startled by the sudden sound.

Alexander: You're in my hotel room.

Young Molly's eyes widen even more, and she instinctively pulls the covers closer around her, her heart racing.

Alexander: Oops, sorry. Did I scare you?

He chuckles lightly.

Alexander: Heh, the name's Alexander Stark. And i kind to forgot your name again can you tell me who you are...?

Young Molly hesitates for a moment, still trying to get her bearings. Then she murmurs softly.

Young Molly: Molly...

Alexander tilts his head with a smile, his curiosity piqued.

Alexander: Just Molly? Do you have a last name?

Molly looks down, her expression uncertain for a moment, then she quietly responds, almost as if the words are hard to say.

Young Molly: I have one...

Alexander leans in slightly, encouraging her to speak, his voice gentle.

Alexander: Go on, say it in full. What's your full name?

Young Molly takes a deep breath, then looks at him, her voice steady but soft.

Young Molly: My name is Molly Cox.

Alexander: Molly… why does your father hurt you?

Her eyes flicker to the floor, struggling to find the words "Father". She's been carrying this pain for so long, and now, it feels like she's finally forced to confront it. After a moment of hesitation, she begins speaking in a quiet, almost distant tone.

Young Molly: I' wasn'' always like 'his...

(English: It wasn't always like this...)

She swallows hard, her voice trembling as she continues, the memories resurfacing, each one more painful than the last.

Young Molly: When i was younger, i' was… i' was a good life. We were a family. Mum an' dad, an' me. My proper dad, 'e was kind. 'e wawked so 'ard, even when 'e was sick, jus' 'o make sure we were okay. 'e loved us. 'e loved me. Bu'… 'e go' sick. S'age 4 cancer. I' was fast, and… 'e died. Jus' like 'ha'.

(English: When I was younger, it was… it was a good life. We were a family. Mum and Dad, and me. My real dad, he was kind. He worked so hard, even when he was sick, just to make sure we were okay. He loved us. He loved me. But… he got sick. Stage 4 cancer. It was fast, and… he died. Just like that.)

Her voice cracks at the end, but she quickly pushes the tears back, forcing herself to keep talking.

Young Molly: Mum was never 'he same af'er 'ha'. She was… broken, i 'hink. She was so lost, 'ryin 'o fill 'he 'ole 'e lef' behind. She remarried af'er a while… 'o 'im.

(English: Mum was never the same after that. She was… broken, I think. She was so lost, trying to fill the hole he left behind. She remarried after a while… to him.)

She stops, her hands clenching into fists, nails digging into her skin, as if the memory is physically painful. Alexander watches her carefully, his expression softening with empathy, but he remains silent, letting her speak at her own pace.

Young Molly: A' first, 'e seemed okay. Like, 'e wasn'' so bad. Bu' over 'ime… 'e changed. An' mum… she just… she didn'' see i'. She didn'' see wha' 'e was doin 'o me. She was 'oo focused on 'im, on makin 'im chuffed. She didn'' care abou' me, no' really.

(English: At first, he seemed okay. Like, he wasn't so bad. But over time… he changed. And Mum… she just… she didn't see it. She didn't see what he was doing to me. She was too focused on him, on making him happy. She didn't care about me, not really.)

Her voice becomes more bitter as she continues, the old wounds surfacing.

Young Molly: I don'' even knah when i' star'ed. Bu' 'he mawe i grew up, 'he mawe 'e 'rea'ed me like i was no'hin. 'e 'i' me when i spoke ou', when i disagreed wi'h 'im. 'e 'umilia'ed me, pu' me down, made me feel small. An' mum? she would jus' butcher's hook away. Like she didn'' 'ear any'hin. She didn'' see any'hin. She jus' smiled a' 'im, an' i was invisible.

(English: I don't even know when it started. But the more I grew up, the more he treated me like I was nothing. He hit me when I spoke out, when I disagreed with him. He humiliated me, put me down, made me feel small. And Mum? She would just look away. Like she didn't hear anything. She didn't see anything. She just smiled at him, and I was invisible.)

She stops herself before she can say more, her shoulders trembling as she tries to hold it all in. Alexander's expression hardens with a quiet rage at the injustice of what she's endured, but he doesn't interrupt. He knows this is her story to tell.

Young Molly: I couldn'' 'ake i' anymawe. I 'ried… i 'ried 'o 'ell 'er, bu' she never listened. She always made excuses faw 'im. An' 'ha''s when i knew… i 'ad 'o chip. I couldn'' stay in 'ha' 'ouse anymawe, pre'endin like every'hin was fine.

(English: I couldn't take it anymore. I tried… I tried to tell her, but she never listened. She always made excuses for him. And that's when I knew… I had to leave. I couldn't stay in that house anymore, pretending like everything was fine.)

Tears start to slip down her cheeks now, and she doesn't try to hide them. They're tears of relief, of finally speaking the truth, but also of pain, of everything she's lost. Alexander kneels down in front of her, his voice low but steady.

Alexander: You're not alone anymore, Molly. I'll make sure of that. You're safe now.

Her eyes meet his, filled with so many emotions she can't even name. The fear and confusion are still there, but there's a flicker of something else a fragile hope.

Young Molly: I don'' knah wha' 'o do now, mr. S'ark. I don'' knah where 'o go.

(English: I don't know what to do now, Mr. Stark. I don't know where to go.)

Alexander's gaze softens, and he places a hand gently on her shoulder.

Alexander: You don't have to know right now. You just have to know that you're not alone in this. You don't have to face it by yourself anymore.

Young Molly looks down, trying to collect herself, and when she speaks again, her voice is softer, but with a glimmer of trust.

Young Molly: Thank you…

To Be Continue