VOLUME 1
Issue 1
Day of Reckoning
Author's notes
This is an original work based on DC's character Batman, created by Bob Kane. I, in no way, take any credit for DC's characters, locations, or ideas. This is my take on the Batman mythos, which will include ideas from the comics and movieverse to a degree. However, several ideas will be original. This fan-fiction will begin with the origin of Batman, and will follow him throughout his career. Each volume will contain 4 issues.
I was only eight years old... When all sense was taken from my life. From that moment on, I knew my life would never be the same; I knew Gotham would never be the same. Life as I knew it changed twenty two years ago.
Gotham City was a dark city, even then. The scum of Gotham City had ruled it for years. Even in those years, the scum had been buying the police force, judges, and just about anyone who got in his or her way.
My father was a doctor, his name was Thomas. My mother – Martha – shared my interest in crime and corruption. She too fought against it; but she was on the other side of the law – the legal side. She was a brave, selfless person. Mother fought against women-trafficking and child slavery. She had her own foundation, simply titled 'The Wayne Foundation'. It was a non-profit organization, which would give one hundred percent of its donations to the cause.
My parents themselves needed no extra money. My father was a doctor, yes, but my father had built a company which overlooked the entire city. It's name: Wayne Enterprises. In the darker days, my father took advantage of the need for work and money. Wayne Enterprises exploded into several departments, and eventually made the Wayne's billions of dollars.
We needed no more money, but that's not why my father worked. Instead, it was to help people who had no money. Father fought for universal healthcare, something that never came true. Just like a lot of things my parents had hoped for, like peace in Gotham. No, peace in Gotham is something that never happened, and it will never happen. In Gotham, things just keep getting worse.
My childhood was slim, if non-existence. This wasn't my father's fault, it was the fact I had a passion to learn. Alfred, my family's butler, told me I got that passion from my father. My passion was like a fire, and every time I learned something new, it was like throwing gasoline into it; making it bigger.
I was home-schooled; Father told me it'd be too dangerous to attend a public school in such a corrupted city. Yet, my father never gave up on Gotham.
My hired a university professor to begin teaching me at the age of five. At this age, I began studying: English, math, world history, geography, and world religions. As I studied, I was soon diagnosed with having a photographic memory. I could remember things easily. All I would have to do was skim the page and then there it was, imprinted in my mind.
My professor told my father I was a prodigy, but not because of my memory; because I could actually understand what I was studying. I needed no second explanation, I just got it.
As well as my studying, my father found it best to hire me a Karate teacher. He told me as I grew up, people would try to hurt me. Our family had money, and money attracted attention. I started this at the same time I started studying. Karate taught me to focus my mind, how to breathe, and how to fight. It helped me focus on my learning.
The karate quickly grew into Ju-Jitsu, Judo, and soon Boxing, but when I was eight years old... Something happened; something that changed me. Something that gave me... purpose.
It was a cold, dark, October night. My birthday. My eighth birthday. Father and Mother took me to see a movie. It was one I had long awaited: Zorro. I remember that night as if it were yesterday. Maybe I remember it so well because I see it in my dreams every night.
Zorro was my hero, second to my father. I danced out of the theater, fighting off all my enemies, just like the great Zorro. I was getting ready to save my city from the corruption, when we entered an alleyway. One that I will never forget. One I enter every night in my head.
A shadow stepped out from the darkness. I didn't care, Gotham was home to millions of people, but this person wasn't just any. Both my parents took my hands. I smiled to them, even though their smiles were forced. They were nervous, I just didn't know it at the time.
The shadow drew closer until it stopped under a light, high above a back entrance of some building. Only a few feet separated us, when we stopped as well. The shadow revealed itself to be a man. A gritty man, with stubble all over his face. I'll never forget him. Never.
His hand slipped into his pocket, and returned with a pistol. I gasped, I tried to hold Father back, but he stepped in front of us. His instincts driving him. The man spoke with a rough, gargling voice; one I will hear every night: "Wallet... Jewellery... Come on!"
Father extracted his wallet and handed it over, hands up. I thought it was over, but the man hesitated. He spotted something which intrigued him. He stared at Mother – her necklace. "Jewellery" the man coughed. He pointed the gun to Father, and shot. As Father fell, Mother's cold shriek wrenched my ears.
The man whirled around, and with an echoing bang, the scream was silenced. It happened so fast, but yet I remember it so slow. The scorching pain was like a searing fire, it burned me and never ever stopped.
I looked to my parents, and then to him. He looked straight at me. My eyes were glossy, I was about to burst into tears. I was soft, so outgoing back then. His eyes were hard, dark, and so deceiving. He turned, and ran. He would run forever. Not from what he'd done – from me.
I fell to my knees, right in between my parents body's. Tears ran down my cheeks, emotions flowed from me. Bruce Wayne had died in that alleyway, along with his parents: Thomas and Martha. That boy became possessed that night, with a vengeance so strong, it overwhelmed him at first.
The tears stopped streaming, as I raised my head to the moon. My wet eyes narrowed into a tortured stare. From the moment on, I knew exactly what I must do. Bruce Wayne was the mask I wore from then on. My true face had yet to be discovered.