Wow, thanks everyone for your encouraging reviews!! I'm pleasantly surprised to hear that I've done so well at capturing the spirit of the show, Zim, and Gir.

Anyhow, this is the final chapter.

"By the First of the Tallests…" Zim shrilly croaked as he shied back, his squeeglyspooch twisting sickly as the ghastly truth hit him. Fear came right on its heels.

Was this murdered woman a gruesome warning, a message to Zim from a human enemy who intended to DOOM him at a later date, saying that he should watch out? Certainly, he'd heard of humans doing similar things before striking at an enemy or someone who'd been foolish enough to anger them. Was an enemy watching him even now?

"Come out and face the mighty Zim in combat with your inferior human weapons like a true warrior, lurking human stink-pig enemy!" he challenged to the moonlit forest, not exactly feeling as brave as he sounded. There was a rapid crunching of leaves behind him, and the Irken leapt into the air with a panicked yell, turning around and coming down on his feet.

To his profound embarrassment, it was only Gir, screeching joyfully as he spun around and kicked in the leaves and seedlings. Feeling mighty foolish, Zim's momentary terror dissipated to be replaced by cool analysis. Racking his brain meats, the Irken ignored the sounds of Gir's play as he tried to think who'd have reason to threaten him in such a nasty way.

Dib? Zim pondered and dismissed the idea in the same moment. At just ten years old, with all his saintly babbling about stopping the Irken and saving the human race, and the amazing beyond amazing tolerance he showed towards the taunts of his classmates, the Dib-stink worm baby obviously didn't have the strength or inclination to do this. Besides him, Zim couldn't really come up with any other human candidates. Apparently the great majority were-and quite rightfully-either too scared or too stupid to even try to engage such an advanced being.

So that meant that the great Invader was in no danger from any fleshmonkey adversary who meant to doom him. Not that anything ever could endanger Zim in the first place of course. This greatly relieved him.

But Zim was also greatly appalled and, as he so often was whenever he contemplated human behavior, utterly unable to come to grips with the reasoning behind this act.

Despite their warlike, often aggressive nature, Irkens rarely murdered members of their own race. And whenever it did happen, it was always for a perfectly valid reason. Every single member of the Irken empire was expected to display utter allegiance and patriotism, to follow and obey any and all orders from their superiors without question, and carry them out in the most competent and efficient manner possible.

The Irken that chose to display insubordination, made an especially serious mistake while on duty, or-Tallests forbid-turned traitor, played very fast and loose with his or her life indeed. Zim had occasionally seen one of these doomed to the thousandth degree underlings be publicly executed, and it was never a pleasant sight.

And once in a blue moon, to use a human phrase, Zim knew that there were times when two competing Irkens, especially males, would cast diplomacy or one-upmanship to the fire, and engage in a no-holds barred duel to the death. Sometimes it was over a coveted position, sometimes over the attentions of a female-but always a savage spectacle.

These contests were rarer, but by no means unknown, among female Irkens as well. Still, Zim had seen them take place over a popular male, including one of his classmates and friends, the high-ranking Invader Krug. It was an event he prayed never to be at the epicenter of.

But the stink humans seemed to slay each other almost on the spur of the moment, Zim thought as he considered the woman's body. He knew that sometimes they did it in self-defense, in order to keep from being killed by another human attacker, and there was nothing shameful about that.

They also killed and doomed each other in the name of conquest, which the Invader most definitely approved of. And yet, looking at the slaughtered woman in the moonlight, the Irken felt several bizarre, terribly confusing feelings rise up within his cyborg body.

With a shock, Zim realized that he was actually troubled by what had been done to this human female. It didn't make a bit of sense. After all, wasn't it his mission, his reason for being on this planet in the first place, to ultimately conquer, kill, and enslave as much of the human race as he possibly could and place it under the Irken flag?

Didn't he intend, just four days from now, to smother and drown several hundred times more individuals in a colossal rush of cherry Jell-O? And didn't her grisly death simply mean one less human to deal with later on? She was basically little different than an ape as far as he was concerned, an animal, a member of an inferior, lesser, ridiculous species.

So why did he find it distressing? Why was his squeeglyspooch in his throat? Why was he actually feeling-No, no, Irkens didn't feel things like this!-pity and sadness? He wrestled with the foreign emotions, battling to return to what he knew was the proper Irken way to think.

The reason, he understood then, was because there'd been no purpose at all. Her murderer had done this just for the sport of it, to enjoy the demented thrill of so totally dominating and inflicting pain on his powerless victim. She hadn't been standing in the way of something he'd wanted, or posing a threat to him in the least, just innocently going about her life.

The Irken thought of how, every time he watched the human news, he'd see at least a couple stories about a human being shot dead. These creatures called themselves advanced, civilized, and yet were so good, disturbingly good, at killing each other for the flimsiest, most unjustifiable motives!

Zim gritted his zipper teeth in outraged fury, eyes gleaming like rubies. And Dib had the gall, the hypocritical audacity to screech at Zim that he and his kind were heartless, dangerous monsters?

Look who's talking, you sanctimonious wormbaby.

With the way the humans near-sociopathically harmed and killed each other, Zim thought, they deserved to be conquered! It was their just desserts, and indeed, he was rescuing them from themselves by taking over this planet, he figured. Probably in the nick of time too.

The Irken was distracted from his infuriated thoughts as Gir wandered over, chewing on a piece of a stump. Seeing the woman's body, the robot stared at it with casual curiosity before asking "What's that master?"

"It's a woman Gir. A grown female human."

"Oh, coooolll!! Maybe she'll like to play with me and teach me how to garden," Gir said hopefully. Halting three feet from the corpse, Gir politely squealed, "Wake up nice lady!! I wanna play tag and learn how ta pull weeds from you!"

"Gir, she's not going to wake up. Ever," Zim told him in irritation.

"Why not master?"

"Because…she's just been killed by a very evil human fleshmonkey Gir. She's dead."

The Irken had no clue if it was the realization of the tragedy or simply his disappointment at not being able to interact with the victim that did it. At any rate, Gir's response was one that seemed to best express the choking, risen unfamiliar feeling in Zim's own throat.

The android drew back several paces. Then his massive falcate turquoise eyes brimmed and he fell to the forest floor, weeping and crying as he pounded the leaves with his metal fists.

Normally Zim ignored these tearful outbursts/tantrums by his robot. Gir had an annoying habit of fussing and crying and generally going into hysterics about the smallest thing, or absolutely nothing at all for that matter. Plus, the Irken thought them to be a disgraceful, unbecoming display of weakness.

But yet…on this night, with the limp, cooling form of a murdered woman before them, it seemed to be a more than appropriate reaction somehow. Not really knowing what to do, Zim went over to Gir and halfheartedly patted him on the top of his cylindrical head, muttering vaguely remembered human phrases of reassurance like "It's okay Gir, It's a shame, yeah," and so on.

Gir was always one to bounce back quickly though, and it wasn't long before his sobs turned to sniffles. As he stood back up, a part of Zim was shocked to hear him say to his robot, "Are you feeling any better Gir?"

Gir distantly nodded. "Yes master. But I wanna go home now."

Thinking about his original purpose for being out here, Zim started to snap, "Gir! We're not going home until we find a good spot to build the Gel-"

Suddenly, the Irken paused as he remembered the dead woman just a few yards away. The concert wouldn't take place for four more days, and it was very likely that her body would be found during that time. That would mean a lot of poleece officers, dogs, and other humans would be running around here. As foolish and incompetent as fleshmonkey law enforcement was, they still wouldn't and couldn't fail to notice an enormous holding tank filled with Gell-O. Plus, having them and their weapons around in the first place, in large numbers at that, always secretly made Zim somewhat worried about his safety.

Reluctantly, Zim sighed. "All right Gir, we'll go home. I'll even pur-chase you all the Chocolate Frosted Flakes and Lucky Charms you can eat for a week tomorrow morning."

"Yayyy!! Sugar cereal!!" the robot cheered in delight.

As he turned away and left the murder scene, Zim looked back at the dead woman one last time. Once more, a small flame of indignantion flared up within his cyborg body.

"It isn't my place or interest to become involved in your kind's affairs human," he told her, "but I apologize for what was done to you. And if the worthless fleshmonkey who brought about your untimely doom is captured…I promise that I Zim shall go to the incarceration facility where they are being kept, and avenge you."

Three months later, Zim got his chance.

This fic is dedicated to all the innocent women whose lives are or have been violently cut short each year, whether at the hands of someone they knew and trusted, or by some random savage who believed that might and inhumanity made right. May each one of them and her loved ones find peace, answers, and especially justice.