Dog
Dog
Dog
Chapter 2: Terror in the Night.
Gotham England, 1859
Interesting things dreams, they are like puzzles filled with your desires, memories, and questions. They must be sorted through in order to be understood. Sometimes they have no meaning, other times you already knew what they were telling you. Nightmares, however, are horrifyingly clear; they are simple in their message, Fear. Dreams are kind to you. Constantly changing, they do not repeat themselves for you to relive. But nightmares will replay again and again devastatingly consistent, never giving rest.
Bruce,
"We'll start with pretty pearls around the ladies neck." The gun comes out of the darkness, "No." Such a finalizing word, there is no taking it back. The cracking boom of the gun echoes through the recesses of his mind. NOOOOOOOOOOOO…
Bruce bolted upright, cold sweat running down his body. How many times would he have to see it? How much longer would he be forced to relive his parent's death? Even as he begged for it to end, he knew it never would. He would never be freed from what he had witnessed that night four years ago. It would replay itself in his mind's eye for as long as he lived, nothing could erase what had been written with pain and blood.
"Why couldn't father have given him the pearls?" Even as he asked the empty room Bruce knew the answer. Those pearls had been a wedding present from Thomas to Martha. She had loved them more than anything else, save her husband and son. Thomas would have died before making her give them up, and ironically, he had.
Of course Martha had died as well, after seeing her husband killed she had scrambled to remove the pearls, but the clasp had stuck. A second shot, and Bruce's world was irreversibly changed.
Bruce stood and walked over to the wash basin, splashing cold water on his face as if to wash away what he had seen. How could life have changed so much? Nothing was the same. No that wasn't true; there was still Alfred. Alfred would never change.
After the murder of the Duke and Duchess of Strathmore, the Wayne's loyal butler Alfred Pennyworth was made the legal guardian of their only child and son. The new Duke, 8 year old Bruce Wayne, was placed into the faithful hands of Alfred, who would devote the rest of his life to making sure that Thomas and Martha's son would be taken care of.
Alfred was driven by duty in all that he did, loyal to a fault, and uncompromising in his beliefs. But that is not to say that he was devoid of affection, quite the contrary. So strong a bond would form between the old butler and his young charge that Alfred would come to view Bruce like a son, and no father ever loved his son more.
Bruce smiled, yes he still had Alfred…but no one else. Bruce brushed his fist across his eyes refusing to allow the tears forming there to fall. No, never again. He wouldn't cry ever again; he had cried enough. Now it was time for action. Standing in the darkness of his bedroom, Bruce renewed the vow he had made that dark night in the alley. He had renewed it every day for the past four years, and would continue to do so for the rest of his life. Bruce didn't know how yet, but someday, he would fight the wrongdoers of this world, bring them to justice, and do everything in his power to make sure no other 8 year old had to watch his parents die.
It was the promise of a child traumatized by the cruelties of life. But like most things of childhood, it would have a lasting effect. Bruce would never again think with the optimistic trust of a child. His view of the world had been forever changed, he couldn't see wonder, or accept the unexplainable as a child must, and he would never dream again.