Happy Friday internet people! I got this cleaned up pretty quickly so I decided to share it with you before the weekend starts. This is the first of what I hope to be many EXTREMELY short stories touching on the life of DC Comic's Bruce Wayne from the ages of 14 till about 20.
As many of you Batman fans may already know, this is the time period in which young Bruce had left home to begin training himself to become the Batman. The episodes will be a conversation here, a journal entry there, some letters to Alfred and Leslie, and even a few hours of his training. But those will pop up few and far between all of my other works of fiction. Also, thanks to some friends' goading, I will be writing about a few villains. The Joker is an obvious first up.
So check out the first of many below and be sure to subscribe or check back often for new releases. Enjoy!
So check out the first of many below and be sure to subscribe or check back often for new releases. Enjoy!
Bruce took in the dark alley that surrounded him. Rain was just beginning to come down in a light drizzle, coating everything with a dream-like sheen. A thick fog began to roll in as his mother’s high heels clacked loudly against the cobblestone street beneath them, her warm smooth hand securely wrapped around his own. Vanilla-scented smoke rose from his father’s pipe as he bobbed up and down beside Bruce. He laughed as he walked, reenacting the play for his wife and son and a younger Bruce Wayne smiled, until he remembered why he was there.
As if brought on by the sudden realization, the air around them grew heavy with dampness and the vanilla-scented smoked turned bitter and rancid. His mother’s hand was suddenly cold and clammy and Joe Chill stood just a few yards in front of Bruce’s family. Deep shadows cast by a single street lamp overhead lined his craggy face and the Waynes’ little boy began to scream. He screamed so hard and so long he began to taste the iron in his mouth as his throat went raw and bloody.
But no amount of screaming would stop what was coming and Bruce knew it. Joe Chill’s bloodshot eyes darted around the alley like a cockroach caught in the light as he walked out from under the lamp and towards the boy’s mother. He wanted the pearls, he always wanted the pearls.
It made him sick, the way his father whimpered and his mother cried when they saw the tiny pistol. How the benevolent and wise Dr. Thomas Wayne simply handed Chill his wallet and begged him, actually begged him, to let them go. But it never mattered. In 6 years of nightmares, it never mattered.
Joe Chill grabbed his mother’s pearls and his father’s wallet, but he wouldn’t go. He just stood there, every single night…shaking. Until finally, some thought, some fear or some reason would claw its way into the forefront of his mind and he would do it. Bruce saw the moment over and over; the moment when the stranger who took everything would close those bloodshot eyes and pull the trigger, again and again. Every night for 6 years Joe Chill killed Bruce Wayne’s parents, and every night for 6 years Bruce would watch, helpless.
Weary and depressed Bruce slowly opened his eyes. Alfred was there, as he always was, sitting in a chair looking anxious and even more sleep-deprived than Bruce.
“Good Morning Master Bruce. I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of preparing some herbal tea and lemon for your throat. There are some biscuits and a bit of honey as well.”
Bruce rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pushed himself up into a sitting position. “I was screaming again, wasn’t I Alfred?”
“You were. I am sorry to say.” Alfred’s eyes drifted to the floor. “Master Bruce, in 6 years you have never spoken to anyone about it. Not even to me. It…it could help.”
Poor Alfred. Thought Bruce. He is so good to me and I don’t have the decency to let him talk to me about it. Alfred is more of an uncle than he ever was a butler. But how can I possibly sit here and talk to him, when I am forced to see it every single night? I can’t…I won’t.
“Not today Alfred.”
“Very good Sir. I will prepare you a proper breakfast and Ms. Thompkins is here to check in on you as well.”
Leslie. Leslie Thompkins…My mother and father’s trusted friend and Gotham City’s best medical practitioner. If it weren’t for her and Alfred, I don’t know where I’d be...Or do I? It wasn’t an accident when I fell down that well just after they died...and they knew it.
“I’ll take a shower and head down.”
“Very good. I feel it is important to tell you that she has already informed me of your dropping out of Gotham Prep and that she is increasingly aware of your anti-social behavior.”
“Alfred I...”
“Master Bruce, it is not my place to judge you. I am here to counsel you if you ask for it, but you have no obligation to explain your decisions to me.”
“Thank you Alfred, I knew you would understand.”
“I do not understand Master Bruce, and I do not pretend to. But that is not the point. And although I will not pester you for an explanation, Leslie most certainly will. Now, take your shower and I shall see you at breakfast.” Alfred turned on a dime and disappeared behind the huge oak door to Bruce’s bedroom leaving him alone to contemplate what Leslie would say.
I don’t know why I left Gotham Prep. It just didn’t feel right. All those kids, smiling and laughing…I just couldn’t take it anymore. I can’t take any of it anymore. Not while Joe Chill is still alive. And as quickly as that, Bruce knew what he intended to do.
When he arrived in the dining hall all of the chairs had been removed from the long dinner table but for two. One was occupied by Leslie Thompkins, her long white hair cropped perfectly mid-way down her back, and the other was sitting directly opposite from her. Surely this was Alfred’s subtle attempt at forcing him to sit directly across from Leslie, but Bruce knew she would confront him no matter where he sat.
As he took his seat, Leslie’s pale blue eyes stayed locked onto his face. Alfred swept in, placed a steaming plate of eggs, bacon, toast and potatoes in front of Bruce, hesitated, then swept out the way he had come in.
“Bruce.” Leslie’s voice cut through the quiet dimness of the room like a knife. “Why in heavens would you drop out of school? Do you have any idea what your parents went through to send you to Gotham Prep?”
My parents are dead Leslie. Nothing they’ve done matters now. “I do. And I’m sorry.”
Leslie’s face flushed red. “You…You’re sorry? Bruce…I know it has not been easy for you, but you have not given life a chance to move on. You prefer solitude when you need companionship. You need friends Bruce. Alfred loves you and I love you, but you need children your own age to surround you, to lift you up and remind you that life is full of happiness and love. Everyone must face loss in their lives but it is the weak who hide in the darkness and brood upon their sorrow…Not the strong. You see that don’t you?”
The darkness gives me strength, my solitude brings me peace. “I do. Honestly Ms. Thompkins, I do. I just don’t feel right at Gotham Prep. It’s…it’s just too close to home.”
Leslie’s cold hard eyes softened and Bruce knew he had her where he wanted her. “I see. I can understand that. So, then you must have a plan. I know you are a smart boy Bruce, you may only be 14 years old but you are far beyond your years. You always have been…An old soul, as Alfred and I like to say.” A small smile reached her lips.
I have a plan Leslie. You won’t like it, but I have a plan. “Well, I have thought about it. I’ve decided to take my GED and study abroad.”
The smile on Leslie’s lips started to wan. “Bruce, you have to be 18 to get your GED...you have 4 years left. Where did you plan to study abroad? I’m certain we could find another prep school that you could attend in Metropolis perhaps or...”
No more prep schools Leslie. No more schools at all. “No. My parents left me everything Leslie. You know I can buy myself a GED if I really want to.”
Leslie sat back in her chair and let out a loud sigh. “Where will you go Bruce? What will you do?”
Bruce’s thoughts burned in his mind and in his heart. I will seek out the darkness inside me and I will conquer it. I will learn how to hunt men from the French master Ducard. I will study ninjitsu under the Shinobi, hunt with the African Bushmen, and learn to control my body in Nepal. I will train myself to perfection and one day, I will return. To devour Joe Chill with the darkness inside me and to protect these streets until my dying breath. I will become the Dark Knight.
But what he said was, “I will learn who I am, and decide who I will become.”
The End
As if brought on by the sudden realization, the air around them grew heavy with dampness and the vanilla-scented smoked turned bitter and rancid. His mother’s hand was suddenly cold and clammy and Joe Chill stood just a few yards in front of Bruce’s family. Deep shadows cast by a single street lamp overhead lined his craggy face and the Waynes’ little boy began to scream. He screamed so hard and so long he began to taste the iron in his mouth as his throat went raw and bloody.
But no amount of screaming would stop what was coming and Bruce knew it. Joe Chill’s bloodshot eyes darted around the alley like a cockroach caught in the light as he walked out from under the lamp and towards the boy’s mother. He wanted the pearls, he always wanted the pearls.
It made him sick, the way his father whimpered and his mother cried when they saw the tiny pistol. How the benevolent and wise Dr. Thomas Wayne simply handed Chill his wallet and begged him, actually begged him, to let them go. But it never mattered. In 6 years of nightmares, it never mattered.
Joe Chill grabbed his mother’s pearls and his father’s wallet, but he wouldn’t go. He just stood there, every single night…shaking. Until finally, some thought, some fear or some reason would claw its way into the forefront of his mind and he would do it. Bruce saw the moment over and over; the moment when the stranger who took everything would close those bloodshot eyes and pull the trigger, again and again. Every night for 6 years Joe Chill killed Bruce Wayne’s parents, and every night for 6 years Bruce would watch, helpless.
Weary and depressed Bruce slowly opened his eyes. Alfred was there, as he always was, sitting in a chair looking anxious and even more sleep-deprived than Bruce.
“Good Morning Master Bruce. I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of preparing some herbal tea and lemon for your throat. There are some biscuits and a bit of honey as well.”
Bruce rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pushed himself up into a sitting position. “I was screaming again, wasn’t I Alfred?”
“You were. I am sorry to say.” Alfred’s eyes drifted to the floor. “Master Bruce, in 6 years you have never spoken to anyone about it. Not even to me. It…it could help.”
Poor Alfred. Thought Bruce. He is so good to me and I don’t have the decency to let him talk to me about it. Alfred is more of an uncle than he ever was a butler. But how can I possibly sit here and talk to him, when I am forced to see it every single night? I can’t…I won’t.
“Not today Alfred.”
“Very good Sir. I will prepare you a proper breakfast and Ms. Thompkins is here to check in on you as well.”
Leslie. Leslie Thompkins…My mother and father’s trusted friend and Gotham City’s best medical practitioner. If it weren’t for her and Alfred, I don’t know where I’d be...Or do I? It wasn’t an accident when I fell down that well just after they died...and they knew it.
“I’ll take a shower and head down.”
“Very good. I feel it is important to tell you that she has already informed me of your dropping out of Gotham Prep and that she is increasingly aware of your anti-social behavior.”
“Alfred I...”
“Master Bruce, it is not my place to judge you. I am here to counsel you if you ask for it, but you have no obligation to explain your decisions to me.”
“Thank you Alfred, I knew you would understand.”
“I do not understand Master Bruce, and I do not pretend to. But that is not the point. And although I will not pester you for an explanation, Leslie most certainly will. Now, take your shower and I shall see you at breakfast.” Alfred turned on a dime and disappeared behind the huge oak door to Bruce’s bedroom leaving him alone to contemplate what Leslie would say.
I don’t know why I left Gotham Prep. It just didn’t feel right. All those kids, smiling and laughing…I just couldn’t take it anymore. I can’t take any of it anymore. Not while Joe Chill is still alive. And as quickly as that, Bruce knew what he intended to do.
When he arrived in the dining hall all of the chairs had been removed from the long dinner table but for two. One was occupied by Leslie Thompkins, her long white hair cropped perfectly mid-way down her back, and the other was sitting directly opposite from her. Surely this was Alfred’s subtle attempt at forcing him to sit directly across from Leslie, but Bruce knew she would confront him no matter where he sat.
As he took his seat, Leslie’s pale blue eyes stayed locked onto his face. Alfred swept in, placed a steaming plate of eggs, bacon, toast and potatoes in front of Bruce, hesitated, then swept out the way he had come in.
“Bruce.” Leslie’s voice cut through the quiet dimness of the room like a knife. “Why in heavens would you drop out of school? Do you have any idea what your parents went through to send you to Gotham Prep?”
My parents are dead Leslie. Nothing they’ve done matters now. “I do. And I’m sorry.”
Leslie’s face flushed red. “You…You’re sorry? Bruce…I know it has not been easy for you, but you have not given life a chance to move on. You prefer solitude when you need companionship. You need friends Bruce. Alfred loves you and I love you, but you need children your own age to surround you, to lift you up and remind you that life is full of happiness and love. Everyone must face loss in their lives but it is the weak who hide in the darkness and brood upon their sorrow…Not the strong. You see that don’t you?”
The darkness gives me strength, my solitude brings me peace. “I do. Honestly Ms. Thompkins, I do. I just don’t feel right at Gotham Prep. It’s…it’s just too close to home.”
Leslie’s cold hard eyes softened and Bruce knew he had her where he wanted her. “I see. I can understand that. So, then you must have a plan. I know you are a smart boy Bruce, you may only be 14 years old but you are far beyond your years. You always have been…An old soul, as Alfred and I like to say.” A small smile reached her lips.
I have a plan Leslie. You won’t like it, but I have a plan. “Well, I have thought about it. I’ve decided to take my GED and study abroad.”
The smile on Leslie’s lips started to wan. “Bruce, you have to be 18 to get your GED...you have 4 years left. Where did you plan to study abroad? I’m certain we could find another prep school that you could attend in Metropolis perhaps or...”
No more prep schools Leslie. No more schools at all. “No. My parents left me everything Leslie. You know I can buy myself a GED if I really want to.”
Leslie sat back in her chair and let out a loud sigh. “Where will you go Bruce? What will you do?”
Bruce’s thoughts burned in his mind and in his heart. I will seek out the darkness inside me and I will conquer it. I will learn how to hunt men from the French master Ducard. I will study ninjitsu under the Shinobi, hunt with the African Bushmen, and learn to control my body in Nepal. I will train myself to perfection and one day, I will return. To devour Joe Chill with the darkness inside me and to protect these streets until my dying breath. I will become the Dark Knight.
But what he said was, “I will learn who I am, and decide who I will become.”
The End
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