A/N. Okay you might call this story an alternate universe one. Not that it
redoes anything or something terribly weird happens but I kinda made up all
of Bruce's childhood and his parents death. Well I hope you like it.
~Guybrush
The sun crept above the Wayne Manor shining light into the teenager's eyes. The sun would never be the same for the boy as he looked down the stairs at the limp bodies of his parents. The teen would never be able to get the picture of the night before out of his mind. The five roars of the pistol and the strained screams of his mom and dad, and then the laughing of the man who did the job. The blood on the hard wood floor was starting to dry and the boy had seen the drying of it all night long. He had finally decided what his job was. He had to get revenge.
The boy stood and walked to the bookcase. His dad had put the secret book and hideout in when he had been very young. When he pulled it the bookcase slid open and allowed a flight of stairs down into the bowels of the manor. The boy started down and walked to the glass case, which held his favorite item, he possessed. It was a costume he had made himself when had become very bored. The project had taken over five years and was very durable. It was made with a triple plated armor that weighed less than the long black cape on it's back, and then there was the his greatest creation his utility belt. It contained a rope and grapple and also had such necessities as a flashlight, heat-detector and a tiny vial of liquid hydrogen.
He slid the glass case open and pulled the suit out. He placed the breastplate over his head and then attached the belt, both were black. Revenge would be his.
The car screeched down the highway. It was the most beautiful kill he had ever done. The pain he had impacted. The damage he had done. It was great how he had killed the childhood of their son who watched the whole thing while knocked senseless against the wall. He turned off the road and came to the next house on hit list. Had to make sure it was the right one though, he thought to himself as he reached under the driver's seat to find the hit list and their addresses. He cursed. He must have left the list in that dumb kid's house. Well he would kill whoever was at the house ahead of him.
Before he could open the car door, it was ripped right off it's hinges. The man looked in horror at the boy-was it? No it couldn't be. It was the same kid from the house before. Or was it? A fist slammed him in the face and his body went straight into the next door. He reached for his secret weapon and drew his knife. He noticed only one thing before he plunged the blade into the boy's arm. The green speckles on the steel. It slid across creasing the skin near the teen's shoulder.
Seconds later blood splattered up into the passenger window. Revenge.
The sun crept above the Wayne Manor shining light into the teenager's eyes. The sun would never be the same for the boy as he looked down the stairs at the limp bodies of his parents. The teen would never be able to get the picture of the night before out of his mind. The five roars of the pistol and the strained screams of his mom and dad, and then the laughing of the man who did the job. The blood on the hard wood floor was starting to dry and the boy had seen the drying of it all night long. He had finally decided what his job was. He had to get revenge.
The boy stood and walked to the bookcase. His dad had put the secret book and hideout in when he had been very young. When he pulled it the bookcase slid open and allowed a flight of stairs down into the bowels of the manor. The boy started down and walked to the glass case, which held his favorite item, he possessed. It was a costume he had made himself when had become very bored. The project had taken over five years and was very durable. It was made with a triple plated armor that weighed less than the long black cape on it's back, and then there was the his greatest creation his utility belt. It contained a rope and grapple and also had such necessities as a flashlight, heat-detector and a tiny vial of liquid hydrogen.
He slid the glass case open and pulled the suit out. He placed the breastplate over his head and then attached the belt, both were black. Revenge would be his.
The car screeched down the highway. It was the most beautiful kill he had ever done. The pain he had impacted. The damage he had done. It was great how he had killed the childhood of their son who watched the whole thing while knocked senseless against the wall. He turned off the road and came to the next house on hit list. Had to make sure it was the right one though, he thought to himself as he reached under the driver's seat to find the hit list and their addresses. He cursed. He must have left the list in that dumb kid's house. Well he would kill whoever was at the house ahead of him.
Before he could open the car door, it was ripped right off it's hinges. The man looked in horror at the boy-was it? No it couldn't be. It was the same kid from the house before. Or was it? A fist slammed him in the face and his body went straight into the next door. He reached for his secret weapon and drew his knife. He noticed only one thing before he plunged the blade into the boy's arm. The green speckles on the steel. It slid across creasing the skin near the teen's shoulder.
Seconds later blood splattered up into the passenger window. Revenge.
