October 31, 1980.
It was a dark and stormy night. Even amidst the foul weather, the neon lights of Gotham City still shone brightly in the dark. In the streets there was nothing to suggest that this night would be unlike any other night. Despite the weather directly working against him, the vendor still found the will to drag his hot dog stand around in search of customers. Prostitutes and their pimps were still out on the streets, hoping to make a living from the usual yuppie or the disgruntled family man. The night was just like any other, although it wouldn't be for long.
A few blocks away, a family of three emerged from the local nostalgia theater. The one leading them, the patriarch, was a tall man well into his thirties. He had short brown hair and a medium build, sporting a neat-looking suit fresh from the washer. His wife was a beautiful blonde wearing a string of pearls around her neck. Between them, walking hand in hand was their son, who was a spitting image of his father.
"Isn't Zorro just the best ever?" Bruce said gleefully.
"I told you, you wouldn't regret going to that theater." Martha said with a smile as big as her son's.
"Can we come back next week, dad?"
Thomas Wayne beamed at his son proudly. "We'll see about that son. We'll see."
The three of them crossed the street and took a shortcut into the nearby alley. The rain had finally ceased. Feeling a growing boldness in him, Bruce leaped into the boxes and trash cans, fencing with an unseen opponent. As they left their son to his own imagination, Thomas and Martha Wayne were in deep discussion.
"Thomas, are you sure its good idea to spoil Bruce like this? I mean, it is a school night."
"Now, now, it's all right. Our boy's a natural genius. He could end up a doctor like me--"
"Or a shrewd businessman." Martha interjected.
"Well I have to leave Wayne Industries to somebody when I die…unless you want another child?" Thomas said suggestively.
"Oh stop it already!" Martha blushed as she fingered her pearl necklace nervously.
"By the way, what's with the pearls? I thought you'd only wear them on special occasions."
"Bruce wanted me to wear them. I told him we were only going to the movies, but he said we should make this evening a special occasion too."
Thomas drew in closer and whispered. "I think so too."
She leaned forward to kiss her husband when something caught her attention. Up ahead, Bruce was already frozen with fear. Out of the shadows emerged a shady man in a dark green coat. His face was young but dirty. He eyed the Waynes with both great interest and anxiety. Before any of them could react to the stranger's sudden appearance, he pulled a gun out of his coat and pointed it directly at Bruce's face. Bruce took several steps backwards and retreated into his mother's arms.
"What do you want?" Thomas said firmly.
"C-C-Cash…" The mugger said nervously, "Now! This gun's loaded!"
"Alright son, calm down. Here's your money." Thomas said calmly as he threw his wallet at the mugger's feet.
There was an awkward silence. The mugger himself seemed frightened at the prospect of using the gun. His stance was awkward and his hand holding the gun was shaking. He hurriedly picked up the wallet and took a step back before stopping. His eyes turned towards Martha Wayne and her pearl necklace.
"I want them pearls too! Throw 'em here!" The mugger yelled.
Thomas Wayne jerked forward, ignoring the whispers of his wife and child. He opened his mouth, presumably to coerce the mugger into a compromise, but whatever his intention was will never be known. There was a flash of light and a gunshot. Tears streamed down young Bruce's face; it was the worst thing he had ever heard. For a second, it seemed as though the shot had missed. Thomas Wayne stood in front of them, unmoved and possibly unharmed. When the second passed, he fell into the ground, confirming their worst fears. Martha's scream filled the air. She gripped her son's hand tightly as she dove towards her husband's fallen body. There was another shot, and her grip loosened completely.
"W-What have I done!?" The mugger said to himself.
The gun fell from his hand, his eyes suddenly filled with tears. As she fell, Martha Wayne's pearl necklace broke, its pieces scattered across the alley floor. Mere minutes ago, this young happy couple was alive and well and now they were nothing but lifeless corpses. Only their son remained. The two of them stared at each other. The mugger, now at the point of no return, picked up the gun and pointed it coldly at the boy's face. What was the point of letting him live, he thought. His parents were dead, and he'd be nothing but a witness to a crime. Whatever compelled him to pick up the gun now left him completely. Instead, he turned away from the boy and ran.
"Dad?" Bruce whispered, hoping for a miracle.
"B-Bruce…" Thomas Wayne managed to blurt out.
Bruce smiled. His miracle had come. He held his father's bloody hand tightly and kissed it. They were going to be alright. They were going to be—
Dead.
The reassuring smile on Thomas Wayne's face was the last voluntary movement he'd make. Bruce stared into his father's eyes, hoping that he would move again. Hoping that somehow, things would be alright. But he didn't. What started out as an ordinary night turned into something unexpected and significant. It was that night that changed Bruce's life forever.