Prologue - 4 December 1995

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 "Dad, can we go outside for a bit?" I ask. I was getting a little bored of the play, mostly it was about bats, spiders, and other animals people are afraid of, and how they must overcome their fear. Right now the lead was entering a batcave, trying to get over his fear. It was all rather cliché.

My name is Bruce Thomas Wayne. I'm the son of Thomas (my namesake) Wayne and Martha Wayne, billionaire entrepreneurs of Gotham City, and my father is the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. I'm 10 years old, and was born in the massive halls of Wayne Manor, a massive mansion just outside Gotham City on the Hallowe'en of 1985. I've lived there my whole life, but was sent to Gotham Academy when I was 5, but I don't really have any friends. They don't want anything to do with a stuck-up, narcissistic proxy billionaire. And that's fine by me. I didn't need them anyway. I had Alfred Pennyworth, our family butler. Mostly my parents are in the city, sometimes during weekends or even out of the country on some international affairs. So they have Alfred take care of me during these periods. He's like a second father to me, Alfred. When he was around 30 years old, right before I was born, he came to the attention of my parents when they were in Gotham, looking for someone to be a butler and they thought he was the perfect man for the job. And he is. Tall, with jet-black hair, Alfred is a dedicated friend and butler to the Wayne family.

My father, on the other hand, is shorter and stocky. He inherited the family fortune, some 5 billion USD, as well as the Manor. The Wayne family and the Arkham family are Gotham's founding families, and Arkham Asylum is named after the latter. Most of Gotham was built 100-200 years ago, by the builders and crafters working for these two families. Arkham Asylum is the Gotham prison, where the mentally disabled and sociopathic criminals go to rot in cold, hard cells owing to the torture of solitary confinement. Like me, my father has light brown hair and is obsessed with strategic games and pastimes, especially chess. Me and him enjoy playing when we can, which is very rare these days. It seems he has been going out around the world a lot of the time.

Martha, my mother, has darker hair, and thin eyes. She grew up as the daughter of a little-known but important family in Gotham, the Kane family, who ran the Bank of Gotham. My father married her and thus joined two principal families of the largest city in the world. And twelve years later, I was the result. The reason they had waited so long to have a baby was because they wanted me to know what it's like to not have parents around all the time, and they wanted it to happen when I was young. So I could be better prepared for my planned, powerful life as a billionaire.

"Of course, son," my father says. He nods to my mother and points to the closed door. We walk over, and I push open the door. As we trudge down the snow-covered alleyway with Alfred tagging behind, I notice Christmas decorations already being set up. God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen is playing in the background, as my father takes out a cigarette and begins to smoke.

"Please, Thomas, try not to now. A play is a time for family," encourages my mother, as we sit down on a frosty bench.

"All right, Martha," my father caves. And that's when it happens. As my father puts away his cigarette, someone comes sprinting down the alley.

"Please... s-sirs... help, p-please... h-he's coming..." the man stammers as he tumbles down onto his knees a few metres away. And then, a tall figure, donned in a navy blue suit with a pink bowler hat, comes strutting down the alley. He seems to be the figure that the person on the ground was panting about. But the thing I notice right after that, is that in both of his hands, he is holding two flintlock pistols. And both seem primed and loaded.

As the man on the ground slides further back from the other man and closer to us, the man with guns points them right at the man on the floor. His guns reflect the bright moon against the building next to us. At this, the man on the floor stops moving, and hangs his head. He knows what is inevitable.

"Please..." he croaks. "Don't hurt me - I didn't mean it -". But his words are cut short as the man with the guns yells in a high-pitched voice, "LIAR!" And pulls the trigger.

The gunshot echoes through the nearby streets, as pedestrians scream and run for shelter. Crows take flight at the sudden noise. I look down at the dead man; he has a hole in his forehead and is lying in a pool of his own blood.

My mother manages to get out a single, high whimper as she realises what has just occurred in front of her eyes. My family and Alfred take a few steps back, as Alfred points his finger at the criminal and snarls, "Don't you dare take another step."

The man with the guns looks up and takes us in, as if only just then noticing we were there. He didn't seem to care or see us before when he had rushed into the alley. He says nothing, directly ignores Alfred's order and takes a step forward. A thought seemed to reach his mind, as he grins evilly and primes the gun that has already been used.

My father finds his voice and mutters to us, "Just give him what he wants, he'll go away after."

How very wrong he was.

My mother lays down her pearl necklace in front of her and kicks it over to the man, as my father takes off his watch and throws it over. I have stood in silence and disbelief since the two men came down the alley, and stare, with Alfred, as the man takes no hesitation in pointing the guns at my parent's faces and releasing the triggers at the same time.

I do nothing as my parents drop, they are dead before they hit the ground. Alfred recovers first and lunges forward, knowing neither of the man's pistols are loaded. The man seems to realise this just in time, and sprints back out to the entrance of the alleyway, almost slipping in the process. I sink to my knees next to the bodies of my parents, as I see a single tear fall from Alfred's eyes, hear him mutter, "I'm sorry, Master...". The lyrics of God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen ring in my ears as I hear sirens in the background.



Fear not then, said the Angel

Let nothing you affright

This day is born a Saviour

Of a pure Virgin bright

To free all those who trust in Him

From Satan's pow'r and might...

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 26 ⏰

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