"The End and the Beginning"
Part 2 of 6
Nick Gourley
20 years ago.
He was staring at the white vastness of his ceiling. The horrific experience was still fresh in his mind. Bats, biting and clawing at his frail and fragile body. The rest of the encounter went by as a flurry of motion summed up only as a vague blur.
His father had lowered himself on a cable and pulled Bruce out of the well, and carried him into the house. Thomas, along with the help of Alfred, managed to set the bones back into place. It was the most painful experience Bruce had ever known.
"What were you doing out there?" His father entered into his bedroom and sat beside him.
"Tommy and Jason were playing hide-and-go-seek, and I was it."
"Why were you playing out in the rain?"
"I don't know."
"You know we don't like it when you and Jason run off like that without telling us where you're going."
"I know father."
"We just want you kids to be safe, that's all."
"I know."
"Well, tonight your mother and I are going to see a movie I'm sure you would love to see."
"What's that father?"
"The Mark of Zorro."
A rush of excitement coursed through Bruce's veins. His sore body was rejuvinated at the very mention of Zorro. Bruce had been counting down the seconds for when that movie came out.
"Oh please father can I go with you?"
"Only if you promise to be a good little boy and clean your room this very instant," Thomas said with a grin on his pleasant face.
"Oh, right away father yes."
"But before you do, I got something to show you." Out of his pocket, Thomas pulled out a long box of some kind. He opened it to reveal a pearl necklace, absolutely gorgeous. The most magnificent Bruce had ever seen.
"You think your mother will like them?"
Bruce touched them, feeling the smoothness of each pearl ball. "Yeah."
"Now get to work young man," Thomas said playfully.
"Yes sir."
--
"You don't need to be egging him on Jason," Thomas said ascerting himself.
"But dad . . ."
"No buts Jason, it could have easily been Tommy or you falling down that well. You know what's right and wrong."
"Yes, dad."
"Now, Bruce, your mother, and I are going to the movies. I know how much you don't like them, so Alfred will take you to your Aunt and Uncle's. Now I expect you to be respectful to them."
"Yes dad, of course."
Thomas vanished down the stairs, leaving Jason alone. He would never see him again.
--
Bruce had never watched anything so magnificent in his life. The whole movie was filled with adventure and excitement. Never had he seen Zorro so horribly good. He particularly loved the end fight scene with Don Raphael and Zorro.
After the movie was over, the Waynes decided to take the night on the town. They walked and travelled around the vacinity, unsure of where they were going. Bruce was mimicking to the best of his ability all of the moves he had just witnessed.
They then entered an alley. It was filled with trash, grime, and sleeping bodies. Bruce didn't like the looks of it, nor did he want to.
All of the people were dressed in rags, and cloths that at one time resembled decent clothes. Their faces were dull and insipid. Some, Bruce was sure, weren't even alive.
One man however, stood and approached the family. With hidden and astonishing speed, the man pulled out a silver revolver. His voice sounded resembled the sound of breaking glass. "Wallet, now!" His hand was shivering with anticipation and angst.
"Just calm down, and here you go," Thomas replied. He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out his wallet. Smoothly and calmly, he gave it to the trembling man. "There you go."
"Jewelry!"
Thomas' face flushed with anger and he got between his wife and the man.
Bang.
Bruce's father dropped to the ground, motionless.
"THOMAS! THOMAS!" His mother was screaming, crouched beside her fallen lover. The man's hand groped around her necklace and pulled it from her neck.
Bang.
The man vanished into the darkness of the alley. The disgruntled and helpless people fled after him, whether out of fear or greed, Bruce didn't care.
The rain echoed his parents passing, and he sat beside them. The blood flowed to his knees and some was splattered on his face. He outstretched his hand, longing to his mother and father, trying to arouse them, only in vain.
The rain mingled with his tears and their blood. At a glance, one would've thought that he was crying blood, his parents' blood.
He sat in silence, and there, in "Crime Alley," he made a solemn and secret vow. A vow that would change him forever. The Wayne family as Gotham City had known it, was dead.
The sirens approached, and men in blue and white outfits took him and his parents away.
--
20 years later.
"What the hell are ya doin' Falcone!"
Sal had entered the restaraunt in a fury. He was accompanied by his two most trusted bodyguards and brothers, Freddie and Timone.
"I was about to ask you the same thing Sal." Carmine was sitting in a private booth, enjoying a glass of Italian wine with a young blonde-haired man, and black-haired woman. "What business do ya have stormin' inta my place?"
"You know why I'm here Falcone."
"If this is about your little bank, I got nothing to do with it."
"Then why do my boys keep tellin' me they saw some of your boys at my bank last night Falcone?"
"Sal, don't get yourself in more trouble than it's worth. I had nothin' to do with that knock over last night. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to enjoy my dinner with my son and daughter without anymore interruptions."
"Someday Falcone, you're gonna get it."
"Until that day, my friend, you'll remain right where you belong." Carmine glanced up at Sal. "Right underneath my boot."
Sal grimaced, and stormed out of the restaurant only after overturning a couple of tables. Carmine's old face seemed to weather, and plunge into thought.
"Something wrong dad," the young man asked.
"Whoever this guy is who's framin' me, he needs to be shut up, and shut up real fast."
"So what'll we do dad?"
"We'll wait for him to strike again, but in the meantime, I'm starvin'."
--
The alarms were incredibly annoying.
He stepped into the vault and began to empty the cabinets into a bag. Purposely, he threw some money onto the floor, as long as he fed the cops, they would stay out of it.
"This'll teach him, oh yeah this'll teach him."
The hum of a car engine reared to a halt near the bank. Maroni's men, he presumed. Only one last thing to do.
He took out his knife and tore off a piece of his red cloak. Using a pen from behind the counter, he hurridly finished his message. Picking up his bag, he quickly ran out the backdoor.
"He'll pay, oh yes, he'll pay."
--
Freddie was having a good night.
He and his brother Timone got word some of the boys that another of their older brother's banks had been robbed. They were sent to investigate.
Word on the street was that Falcone was behind it. Trying to start a war, people had told them. Sal and his brothers knew Falcone, if he wanted to start a war, it would've been over a long time ago.
That was the thing, somebody was setting both of them up. Somebody wanted a war, and somebody wanted it now. This was a damn good way to start one.
The bank was a mess, money was still lying in the vault, and glass was literally everywhere. It was like deja vu all over again.
"Yo Fred, ya think Falcone did this?"
"In some ways Tim, I hope so. I've been waitin' to smash his skull in for years."
"But don't ya think tha . . ." Something hard and strong wrapped around Timone's neck. In less than 3 seconds, he was out cold.
"Ti . . . HOLY MOTHER OF . . ." Freddie saw the most horrific, god-awful creature that he had seen in his life. Whatever it was, it had its big muscular arm wrapped around Tim's neck.
Freddie drew his gun, but the creature was faster. A gun was already in Tim's hands, and the devil raised Tim's gun-ready hand. In a nanosecond, something hot and cold at the same time tore through Freddie's kneecap. The blood exploded from the wound and ran down his leg. He immediately collapsed to the floor.
The creature nonchalantley walked towards Freddie and kicked his hand with extreme velocity. The gun whirled and slid into the darkness.
A massive, gloved hand grabbed Fred by the throat and lifted him inches off of the ground. He was staring at a demon from hell, Freddie was sure. It had horns, wings, and a black bat inside of a yellow circle on its chest. If the thing had eyes, he couldn't see any.
"What are you!" Fred half asked, half shrieked. The creature of darkness pulled him closer until he could make out its face. It was half-demon, half-man. The only skin on his face was that under his nose, the upper portion was covered in ebony. His eyes were opaque, and pupiless.
"I'm Batman."
Then, there was only darkness.
--
Freddie Maroni went limp in his hand and he dropped him onto the floor.
The bank was just like the last one, trashed. Glass and money lie everywhere. The same footprints he had seen in the last bank were here as well. Only one thing was obvious and one word came to mind.
Setup.
Whoever this was, they intentionally made this look like a group of thugs did it. Particularly, Falcone's thugs. He just couldn't place who would do this.
If things got bad enough, it would start a gang war between Gotham's two biggest crimelords. Whoever wanted to get revenge on Maroni, was potentially doing it in a big way.
How could one make another so hell-bent on revenge that he would risk Gotham itself, just so he could achieve his revenge?
He knew the answer to the question, but refused to think about it anymore. Had to stay focused.
He examined the counter, only to find a red piece of cloth resting on it. It matched the one he had found earlier. This time, however, a letter was addressed on it. It stated:
To Whom It May Concern,
My dear investigators, there is only one bank left to go, and you know where it is. 10 o'clock in the PM. Be there, and get squared.
Sincerely,
Red Hood
The Red Hood was about to have a long night ahead of him. A very, long night.