Edited: 1/21/2017
Storm clouds formed over hell-ridden Gotham. Screams, gun shots, and police sirens filled the air as her soundtrack. A top the police station stood the signal cloaked in black. Its hinges were rusted, its glass covering cracked. Its illuminating light broken and shattered.
A mansion on a hill overlooked the dying city but was deaf to its cries. Wayne Manor stood against the blackened sky. The light that once filled the home was snuffed out by tragedy once more. Headstones rose from the cold earth, adding to look of a haunted mansion. Most were old and weathered down to becoming unreadable. All but three, one shining new then the two, recently filled. The first lightning of the raging storm flashed revealing the name of a once respected and loved friend, Alfred Pennyworth.
Thunder rocked the manor, shaking the dust collecting furniture. Then everything was still, nothing stirred. The sound of the message machine played over again. A figure curled into himself, his back resting against the couch. His fists clutched the wings of his mentor… his father.
Friday April 17 1:09 pm
Dick? It's Barbara.
The figure pulled his legs in tighter to his trembling body. He knew who it was. She had called every day to check up on him since the accident. She didn't come though, and he didn't care. He just wanted to be left alone since that what the world wanted.
I know you're there….pick up the phone…please?
You can't stay locked up in that house forever.
He scoffed. Of course he could. That was his plan, to stay here forever and fade away. No one would miss him. There was no one around to listen. The voice on the machine sighed.
Call me back, please.
He never would. There was a click as the voice ended the call. He didn't move as the next message started. He dug his head into his arms, hoping to shield himself for what was to come. It was a futile attempt. It played like it had been for 15 hours.
Tuesday April 21 8:47 am
Richard Wayne?
He flinched at the name. It wasn't his. He didn't deserve to have His name. He had given up when He never did, till now.
This is Dr. Maxwell Wright. I'm calling to inform you that your guardian, Bruce Wayne, has passed away.
Heart-wrenching sobs filled the silence. His body shook as he cried for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.
We are so sorry for your lost.
Like that made it any better. His father was gone, but Bruce couldn't be dead, he was THE Batman. He was invincible. He wanted it to stop, the message, the pain. He wanted it all to end, but he didn't have the strength to end it. He knew He would be disappointed if he did. He would want him to move on, but he didn't know if he could. So he just sat and listened, too tired to do anything else.
He lifted his head and gazed at the cold cowl in his hands. Tears flowed down his face as he stared into the empty eyes. His father was dead and so was he.
He bowed his head.
And the messages repeated.
