EPISODE 1: Bruce Wayne

BANG. The unforgiving echo of a cold gunshot broke the quiet of a dark alley in Gotham. Smoke slipped out of the barrel of a pistol and a pearl necklace hit the pavement. The slim figure of a middle age woman followed the pearls on their downward trajectory as they clattered all over the concrete below.

BANG. The sound rattled the ears of a young boy as his father, the second of the two figures fell to the ground. The boy was in tears. His life as he knew it was over as he stood above two cold, dead bodies that once belonged to his parents. He slowly raised his head to look at the man standing across from him. His thin lips stretched into a wicked smile as his white teeth exposed themselves and cold air puffed out of his nostrils. His black hair was slicked back and his piercing dark eyes locked with the boys as the hammer on the pistol clicked back to load another round into the barrel. The man slowly turned the gun so that it sat right before the boy's forehead.

BANG. Bruce Wayne woke from his sleep with a shock. His breathing was quick. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Bruce's head shot to the left, then to the right, and back again to the left. He was no longer in crime alley, he was in his bedroom. The same bedroom he went home to the night his parents were killed. He felt the sheets over his legs the same way he felt them on that day. The way the cold air snuck in through the loose window at Wayne Manor was the same as it was back then. It creating a subtle current of chilled air in Bruce's room that caused his body to shiver.

Bruce broke his train of thought. He rose out of bed and placed his bare feet onto the chilled artisan rug that sat snugly on the floor. He walked towards the large ornate mirror that stood against the wall parallel to his bed. Before he slid it open to head to the Bat-Cave, he glanced at the clock on the wall, it was 8:02pm on January 12th, 1932.

"Right on schedule." He said to himself. Bruce recalled how he had broken his sleep schedule into several twenty minute blocks spread out through the day so that he could effectively balance his life as Batman and Bruce Wayne. As his gaze returned to the mirror, he saw his body. It was the peak of male form. Bulging muscles, that were simultaneously lean and well defined were all over his body. From his legs to his chest, Bruce was a strong man, yet he was lithe enough so that he could move from rooftop to rooftop and slip through narrow passes with ease. But his body was covered with so many bruises and cuts that even a boxer would blush. His back ached and his arms were tired, yet he was still a beacon of physical strength. Bruce was a tall man. His white skin and black hair stood in stark contrast with each other. His striking blue eyes moved a mile a minute, inspecting his surroundings, even in the peace of his own home.

Bruce reached his right arm out towards the mirror and slid it open to reveal a circular stone stair case that led into a cave beneath the old mansion. He took a step into the dark corridor and entered the bat cave.

It was now 11:34pm. Bruce sat atop a spire in Old Gotham. The harsh wind pushed on him, as if it were trying to blow him right off of the old structure So Bruce tightened his grip as he listened for the familiar screams he usually heard this time of the night. Through extensive research at the Gotham Public Library, Police reports and word of mouth, Bruce had been able to track crime trends in various Gotham neighborhoods. The recent stock market crash and depression had left many in Old Gotham's manufacturing neighborhoods out of work, out of hope and full of desperation. Lines outside of soup kitchens and hiring agencies wrapped around multiple blocks during the day, but no one would be caught dead at night in Old Gotham now. Just then, Bruce heard the scream of a young woman a couple of blocks away. He leapt from the spire and landed on the rooftop below. Entering a full sprint, Bruce desperately ran towards the scream. He effortlessly soared over a gap and landed on the apartment building parallel to the one he was on before. As he neared the alley where the scream came from, Bruce reached down to his brown, leather utility belt. He snatched his grappling gun and fired it into the office building that was next in line. The grapple shot downwards and connected with the concrete just above the ground. Bruce hit the release switch to recall the grapple and he was pulled towards the building at a rapid pace. On his quick descent, Bruce saw a man was fighting with the woman over her purse.

"There's only ten dollars in there. Just let me have that." The woman shrieked.

Bruce released himself from the grappling gun and soared towards the man. As he descended closer, Bruce extended his legs until his heavy, black boots made contact with the attacker. A brown and black gun bounced to the side of the scene. The man slammed right into the street below and the woman screamed in fear again at what was before her. It appeared to be a man, but it looked supernatural. The creature was dressed in black from head to toe, with a small opening on its head that revealed a pair of full lips and a strong chin. Its head had two distinct spikes coming up from the left and the right and a black leather cape was draped gently over the beast's shoulders and fell all of the way to his ankles.

"Don't hurt me…please." She said.

"I won't. Don't worry." Bruce said, trying to reassure her.

The woman quickly grabbed her purse and ran away, nearly slipping on a puddle that had formed from a snow shower earlier that day. Bruce walked towards the man who now laid in a semi-conscious state. Bruce grabbed him by his faded shirt and pulled him so that he was looking directly into his eyes

"What is wrong with you? What are you?" The man said as he trembled with fear. Bruce remained silent.

"What do you want from me?" He said as his eyes nervously shot around. Bruce still said nothing.

"HELP! HELP!" He screamed but to no avail. No one was around. Bruce shook him and stared at him with an even greater intensity.

"I'm Batman." He replied in a gravelly voice, still not breaking his stare into the man's eyes. He was visibly shaking.

"Ok, if you're going to kill me, just kill me. Why don't you just do it?" The man said with desperation. This made Bruce hesitate for a moment. He broke eye contact with the man and nervously looked away. The man took note and tried to jab Bruce with a knife he had hidden in his sleeve. Bruce noticed and slammed him onto the pavement once again. The man cried out even louder as this time, there was an audible sound of bones snapping.

"You son of a…." The man uttered weakly. Bruce went to pick up his grappling gun and came back to the man. He went to pick him up until he heard a shout from the silhouette of a man from down the alley.

"HEY! Stay right there! This is the police!" The man yelled.

Bruce gently placed the unconscious man back onto the ground and disappeared into the dark night.