The Batman
By Jasper Cresdee-Hyde
Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End
November 21st, 1987. The rain battered down on the old houses, covered in grime and ivy. People rushed back and forth across the streets, holding umbrellas and talking on their mobile phones. Two wealthy looking people hurried back from an opera performance, with a 6 year old child with them. The man was wearing a red fur coat, with slick black hair and a tuxedo. The woman was wearing a long black dress, thick make-up and bright red high heels. The young boy was also wearing a tuxedo, but with a bow tie instead of a tie. His shoes were recently polished, but would have to be re-done after being stained by the rain, as can be said for the man and the woman. They were named Thomas and Martha Wayne, and Thomas was the owner of one of the world’s biggest and most famous Technology companies, Wayne Enterprises. They were well respected billionaires in Gotham City, and Thomas Wayne, as a sign that they are really just regular people, works at the city hospital, and Wayne Enterprises is run by his business manager, Lucius Fox. The 6 year old was their child together, Bruce Wayne, heir to the entire Wayne estate, including Wayne Mansion. They had to leave the opera production early because of a fear Bruce had of bats, which featured prominently in the show. It all started when an event occurred couple of weeks ago, that would change his life forever...
Thomas was a famous humanitarian, and his home, Gotham City, was crime-ridden and full of homeless people. As a sign of good will, he created a cheap Tube System for the less fortunate that everybody could afford. All benefits went to the Wayne Foundation, a charity made to help poor and homeless people around the globe. One day, Thomas and his wife Martha were showing Bruce the tube. They were alone in a carriage, except for one other man sitting at the far end. Bruce seemed uncomfortable, like he sensed that something was wrong. The man was wearing a mouldy-looking brown jacket, ripped jeans, dirty trainers and a wild looking face. His hair was uneven and it was easy to tell from a brief glance that it had been a long time since he had visited a hairdresser. His hand was moving inside his jacket, like he was grabbing something. Suddenly, he leapt up and whipped out a gun from his pocket and aimed it at the Waynes. Martha screamed her lungs out, as Bruce stood there trembling. He fired the gun. Thomas dropped to the floor.
“Dad!” Yelled Bruce. The man lightly pushed open the door to the front of the train, where the sight of a dead driver with head against the controls met their eyes. The train smashed into a wall, as Thomas’s body and the previous carriage were dragged away onto the tracks, in a flurry of sparks and wind. Martha held onto Bruce as tight as she could, and covering his eyes.
“Whatever you do, you are not taking away my baby!” She screamed at the top of her voice.
“Gimme’ ya purse lady!” The murderer yelled.
“Not on my watch, Bub.”
Martha turned around as fast as she could, to see a shadowy figure standing there. The Batman.
The man stood there shaking, looking petrified. “I know you. You’re Joe Chill, wanted by Gotham Police for murder and association with Roman Sionis. I’m taking you in.
“Ha-ha, but I’ll be back Batman. I don’t care how many tries it takes me but I will break out of Arkham!”
The train was continuously crashing into the sides of the tube, sparks flying everywhere and the carriage becoming more battered by the second. Just then, the bottom of the carriage hit the tracks and slid along the floor, with the train still in motion. Batman and Joe Chill were battling it out, whilst Martha kept Bruce safe, hiding under a row of seats furthest away from the fight. Batman was winning by miles. His hand blades slid across Chill’s face, causing a huge gash to appear on his cheek. But he quickly fought back, grabbing his hand and doing the same to his mouth. Joe then pushed Batman backwards onto the end of the carriage, as he threw a battarang on a string to a loop of metal on the jagged end.
“Well, looks like I’m not going to Arkham after all, ‘ey! Time to die, bats’!”
Thomas Wayne insisted to his wife and child that he knew a shortcut across an alleyway. It was late at night and that was when the criminals came out of their clubs or bars to perform their acts of robbery and murder. After he told her the route, she agreed to follow him. As soon as the family stepped foot in the alley, the noise and hustle and bustle of the Gotham streets was left behind them. It was dark, with a single street lamp lighting up the whole thing. It was flickering, stained and dirty. They made their way up the alley, too scared to walk to slowly but also so scared that they didn’t want to walk quickly because anybody watching would know that they were afraid. Suddenly, out of nowhere a man in a dirty brown jacket holding a gun leapt out of the shadows. Thomas looked taken aback, and glared straight at the criminal.
“Hello, Chill.”
Joe had a gun pointed at Martha and Bruce’s heads under the seats on the train. Batman was nowhere to be seen. But then he re-appeared from under the train. Chill whipped around, astonishment drawn onto his face. He was holding a long, gleaming sword, known to many as ‘the Bat-Blade’. It was scraping the tracks, trying to find a good enough ridge to rip the carriage away. Unfortunately one could not be found. Chill was blocking the entrance to the control room, which led to another fight.
“I’m not letting you win, Joe. Even if you kill me, the spirit of the Batman will live on!"Said Batman, with the blade held tightly to his neck.
“So if I kill you right now, I’ll then have to defeat an imaginary figure? I’m all for killing you now!”
He suddenly pushed Joe through the glass and into the control room. Batman slammed Chill’s head against the control panel, pushing aside the lifeless body of the driver. Joe made an attempt at fighting back, but failed. He pinned him down onto the panel, and prepared to pierce him in the heart and through the panel, but he felt his leg shake. It was Bruce.
“Don’t do it Daddy.”
He looked down to see his innocent son, horrified by what his father had done. He nearly killed a man. If he had done it, then he would be just as bad as the people he had convicted. Batman put down a shaking Joe Chill, and stabbed the blade down right into the control panel. Sparks flew out of it rapidly, as flames grew and spread like wildfire. The train sped up quickly, racing past a stop-off point, with many people having to whip back as half a train on fire whizzed past them. It finally came to a stop near the next station, with many confused bystanders looking at the damaged train in astonishment and amazement.
Joe Chill stood there with a gun pointed at the Wayne family, with Martha in a state of shock as she remembered her past experience with the criminal, whilst Bruce hid behind her leg, shaking like it was minus degrees.
“There’s no stopping me now. I can tell you haven’t got the Batman suit under those clothes!”
He yelled shakily, rasping at the man that had nearly cost him his life.
“You are correct, Master Chill. But just because I don’t have my armour on me, does not mean that I cannot defeat you.”
Reacting to the statement, Chill pulled the trigger, as a lead bullet forced its way into the flesh of Thomas Wayne, as he collapsed to the ground, his wife and child surrounding him and his murderer standing over them, obviously regretting his first murder. Bruce’s tears dripped onto his father’s lifeless corpse, they slowly made their way down his chest and fell off of the side, into a murky puddle.
Joe Chill was being led away from the flaming train by police, as Martha and Bruce were being treated for shock. But Batman had made his get-away as soon as the train crashed. He was now resting after the attack inside the Bat cave at Wayne Manor. He held his stomach tightly, as Alfred entered the room.
“Sir, are you quite alright?” He turned to see his faithful butler slowly, and smiled at him.
“Yes Alfred, thanks. Just, hurting.”
“Why sir?”
He removed his hand from his chest, to reveal a knife wound, covered in blood.
“I was stabbed. Don’t tell Martha. Or Bruce. Please Alfred, for their sake.”
“Of course Master Thomas. Will you call for an ambulance?”
“No. I think I can fix this myself. And Alfred, before you go.”
Alfred left the room, and then re-entered.
“Yes sir?”
“Never tell Bruce about me. It would hurt him. Scar him for life. And I want the legend to stop here. He won Alfred, he beat us. For now.”
Thomas flipped back his mask, and rested on his chair, contemplating what would happen to him next.
Martha dropped dead. In a fit of madness, Joe had shot her as well. He had got his revenge for Batman putting him in Arkham. Bruce stood there, as Chill raced out of the alleyway, weeping over his parents corpse's.
Bruce sat with Alfred in his room. His parents had been pronounced dead. All of Gotham was in shock. He had been crying for hours, with Alfred comforting him, his eyes red as well.
“I miss them so much Alfred.”
“I know Master Bruce. I hurt as well.”
“Why did he kill them? They were innocent!”
“He was crazy. After what this city has become, the thought could drive me or you round the bend!
“What did he want from them?”
“Your amazing father put him away. That’s what he was getting revenge for.”
“But Batman put him away Alfred.” Alfred’s eyes glinted, a small sign of relief.
“Oh yes. Silly me, the stress is getting to me.”
“I hope he is caught Alfred. And locked away forever. Gotham cannot be protected now.” Alfred turned his head to the door, open slightly, as he could see another door in the hallway. A door that only Thomas Wayne and Alfred has been through.
“Who knows, Master Bruce, maybe one day somebody will avenge their deaths.”
Bruce didn’t understand what Alfred had meant by that, but it made him sleepy after all the stress. Alfred rested his weary body on the bed. He walked over to the door he was looking at a minute ago. The old butler took a small key out of his pocket, and muttered, “Off to the fireplace this goes.” He was remembering his conversation with Thomas Wayne shortly before his death, when he told Alfred to protect Bruce from the secret. He walked down the hallway to burn the key, so Bruce would never know his past. He never should know the secret. The secret of the Batmen.