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A fan fiction where i express how i would want The Batman movie to be. all characters are owned by their respective companies.

Mystery / Adventure
5.0 7 reviews
Age Rating:



BLAM! BLAM! Two gunshots paired with melodious shrieking and the silent whimpering of the Wayne family. When the bodies of the two greatest people to ever live in a cruel city like Gotham fell in the middle of Crime Alley, as the life drained out of them, a new individual rose from the ground. He was born out of the blood of the Wayne’s for none of them survived that night. October 18th, 1989, this is how The Batman was born.


“Today is a very special day for every Gothamite. 2 years prior to this day, eccentric billionaire Bruce Wayne seemingly rose from the dead after being wiped out of the face of the earth for the last 20 years. Bruce likes to credit these 12 years of solitude for the revolutionary technological advancements that he has brought back with him. As we edge towards the turn of the millennium, Lucius Fox, CEO of the Wayne Tech R&B Laboratory, claims that Gotham will be listed as the first metropolitan city even with its derogatory crime record. This is Vicky Vale reporting live from Wayne Tower as the Wayne Expo commences in an hour, stay tun-“ the television is flicked off by an unimpressed individual towering beside the esteemed the billionaire himself. “Wouldn’t want 20 years of operating in the shadows to go to waste now would you, sir?” Bruce smirked at this comment and replied with his peculiar tone, a monotoned voice that you can’t get enough of, “I appreciate the sentiment, Alfred but there’s a lot of catching up to do.” “I believe 2 years to be a long time, Master Bruce.” “Well uh, guess Gotham missed me more than I anticipated it would.” Alfred cracked a smile seeing a spark in Bruce’s eyes, something that was extinguished on that fateful night. He seated himself opposite to his Master and offered him some tea. Alfred hung back and took a sip, helping him remember the last time Bruce was truly happy. “You know, Master Bruce-“ “Alfred, don’t. Don’t use that term, you’re family.” “Very well. As I was saying, you know people they used to mourn your parents for years.” “Can’t say that I don’t relate.” Bruce’s smile disappeared but Alfred carried on as he felt that keeping this within him was too much of a burden considering his age. “All I could ever ask myself was why they wouldn’t mourn you?” “Well, as far as I recall I was very much present and alive at the funeral.” Alfred sighed and stood up to his feet, ready to take leave, but before leaving he had one last thing to say. A question that haunted him for years and a thorn in Bruce’s side as he realizes that living in the shadows made him one with it. “Were you?”

“Woah Woah Woah I’M FREAKING OUT!”, the squeak in his voice could be heard above the murmur filled room but everyone understood the kid’s enthusiasm. “This better be worth it, Mitch. Dad was in a horrible mood and you know how cranky he can get!” “Are you kidding me? This is the most mind-boggling thing you’ll ever see!” “Let’s keep it down alright, kids?”
“But mom I don’t understand. Why are we here when we can’t afford any of these?” the naïve kid didn’t have the slightest clue about what he said but his older brother was disappointed by his behavior. The mother, on the other hand, was trying to cover her face as she was ashamed to stand in a crowd of spendthrifts being nothing but a poor trapeze artist. Mitch nudged his younger brother. Clueless as to what was going on, he pushed his brother and asked him with an aggravated tone, “WHAT?! HE’S A MILLIONAIRE-“ suddenly, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Mitch’s jaw dropped in awe and as his brother turned his head he recognized the charismatic smile of Bruce Wayne. “Billionaire, kid. Millionaire is so outdated.” Suddenly, every head in the room turned simultaneously to face the myth himself. Flashes lit up the room as the light of the cameras followed him to the stage. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you for such a warm welcome. I am happy to announce that Wayne Industr-“ “Excuse me, Mr. Wayne.” A hand shot up out of the crowd. “What the hell, newbie?” said an accomplice of the person in question. “No, no. Let her speak. Tell me Ms…..?” “Lane.” The woman stepped through the crows to face Bruce, “Lois Lane.” She said, firmly. “Wow, such confidence. And they call you the newbie?” Bruce smiled as he could sense the slight nervousness that had crept into the reporter, “Sir, I am Lois Lane of the Daily Planet, Metropolis.” “Yeesh! Quite a tiresome journey that must’ve been.” “Yeah. My question for you was “Do you consider Wayne Industries to be superior to LexCorp considering they are still the leading provider of groundbreaking tech?” “Well, Lois. I lied. The past 20 years weren’t only dedicated to revolutionizing the world around me. It was about spiritual development as well. See, I spent some time as a monk, as unbelievable that might seem it's also true. And I have concluded that no, I don’t see them as a rival or anything of that sort. The development of the world around us should never be sabotaged because of petty rivalries. So what, we don’t make enough money a year? We can just-“ “But, sir.” A sharp voice interrupted him which caused a quiet riot among the several reporters. “With all due respect, sir. You have the luxury of saying that. We commoners, we are struggling. We don’t make money a week, we may not live through the coming week.” “I understand your concern. Which is why I would like to announce the Wayne Trust Fund. Ah, kinda hoped someone would ask that question.” This remark made everyone chuckle in delight and when it came to the reporter who was holding the spotlight, the chuckle was out of respect. “No longer should people be slaves. No longer should they beg. No longer should they be forced down a dark path…” Bruce paused for a second, “This was my father’s dream and now that burden is bestowed upon me. Orphanages, hospitals, any sort of institute procuring to services for other people are covered under this trust fund. People shouldn’t suffer and go into debt because they asked for basic necessities. Not anymore. Next question.” Bruce eyed the reporter and he smirked in reply, he was embarrassed but he believed in the cause that Bruce had presented. All the questions were being ignored by Bruce as he didn’t find them to be worth his time when suddenly, one question broke his bubble of confidence. “What are your thoughts about The Knight?” Bruce stammered, “I’m sorry?” “The Knight. The man who has been terrorizing this city ever since your return.” “Well, I believe people who think themselves to be above the law should definitely be prosecuted and put behind bars.” He looked past the reporter and saw a stern face. A man in a long trench coat, a cigar hanging out of his mouth, scanning Bruce up and down as an astute observer would. “What about the good he has done, Mr. Wayne?” “What good? Other than being a hindrance to our police department and insulting them? He has been slipping away from our hands but one day, he will stand in court like the rest of us and face the consequences of his actions and believe me, I have maintained a tally.” He felt his knees getting weaker, “That’d be all. No further questions. Sit back, relax, and-“ he groaned “-break a leg.” He stumbled off stage and hurried out the door, following the trail of the man in the coat. He signaled Lucius to handle the chaos as he rushed out the door.

The doors closed with a loud bang behind him but that wasn’t a problem for him. He looked around the corners of the streets for the man but couldn’t find a trace of him. Suddenly, this eerie feeling entered his system as he could feel someone creeping up behind him. Without a second thought, he grabbed the man’s hand and twisted it. The man didn’t even have time to struggle as he was put into a deadly headlock! Bruce wanted to inquire about the man’s identity but he couldn’t force anything out of his mouth. The man struggled in Bruce’s grip and finally muttered out “Commissioner.” As he pulled out his badge. Bruce returned to his senses and tried to console the commissioner who was busy gasping for air. “Commissioner Gordon! I am so sorry.” “Jesus Christ, kid. No wonder I never see any bodyguards around you.” Bruce nodded and helped the Gordon back up to his feet. “Please, commissioner. Take some rest in my office upstairs alright?” Gordon gave Bruce a look radiating suspicion as he accepted his offer.

“Water?” “No, thank you,” Gordon said as he watched Bruce seat himself in front of him. “Listen, I am truly sorry for assaulting you like that.” “No no, please don’t apologize. I should’ve known better than sneaking up on people” Bruce chuckled upon hearing this but Gordon didn’t waste a single second. “Coming to the point, Mr. Wayne.” Gordon’s astute eyes locked onto those of Bruce. He sensed the confidence in those eyes but also felt that they were pretentious. “I came to take to you about a mutual friend of ours. The knight.” Bruce allowed a nervous chuckle to slip and followed it up quickly, “Why would you say so?” “See, I give him the case files that we are too incompetent to solve” “Well, I am sure he is flattered.” “And you, you give him the gadgets he requires to carry on his crusade.” The color from Bruce’s face drained. “Excuse me?” “See, son. I’m a detective. It’s part of my job. And I have been coming across a lot of remnants of the knight’s weapons most of them designed with your company’s logo.” “I’ll bring this to the attention of the R&D Department.” Bruce grabbed the telephone but was stopped by Gordon’s palm. Gordon looked at him for a second and let out a sigh as he started packing his things again. “Trouble at the department, commissioner?” “Trouble sleeping, Mr. Wayne?” Gordon was unimpressed by Wayne’s hospitality and left abruptly in a hurry much to Wayne’s pleasure but at what cost?

On the other side of town, far away from the tiresome identity crisis of Bruce Wayne, a storm has begun to brew as screams echoed throughout the sound-proof home. “Please! What have I ever done to you?!” said the man, on his knees begging for his life as his thousand-dollar shirt was covered in snot. His cries for help and his words that could melt any cold-hearted murderer’s heart didn’t prove to be enough to waver this crusader from his wretched path of revenge. Instead, he danced to the sound of his whimpering as if it was the most melodious tune that he had ever heard. He shuffled towards the record player and shuffled through the collection of timeless classics. “Mr. Mayor, you really do have an extraordinary taste in music.” He took out his gun and shot off the Mayor’s hand which was inches away from the telephone. He shrieked in pain which only aggravated the mystery man, “ARGH! YOU ARE RUINING THE MELODY!” he calmed himself and continued, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. How foolish of me, I should’ve been treating you with respect but instead, here we are. Crawling across the floor like a desperate insect, trying to suck one last drop of blood out of his enemy before washing away in the eternal light. Now, let’s play a game.” The man crouched in front of the Mayor who was desperately clinging on to dear life. “I will give you one shot. One last shot to live your filthy life but you have to get this question correct alright? Can you do that for me, Mr. Mayor?” the Mayor only sobbed and pleaded in response, “Please, I have a family. Please.” The man gave him a dumbfounded look and asked, “What family?” the Mayor couldn’t understand the sarcastic tone of the deranged maniac standing in front of him but it all became clear as day when he stepped aside. The bodies of his wife and two children, leaning on the walls with blood dripping from every orifice. The most horrifying part was that their faces were disfigured beyond recognition to form a question mark. “What are you?” the mayor mumbled in disbelief. “That is exactly my question, sir.

I cut through evil like a double-edged sword, and chaos flees at my approach. Balance I single-handedly upraise, through battles fought with heart and mind, instead of with my gaze. What am I?

The man waited and waited but all he got in return were silent whimpers. “Tsk! It is only fun when they try at least.” He walked towards the door and returned with a sledgehammer being dragged across the floor, painting the house with blood along the way. “Who are you?!” shrieked the mayor as the man lifted his mighty hammer over his head. In reply to this vain question, he screamed “I AM JUSTICE!” as blood sprayed over the walls of the once ornamental household.

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