DC: Beginnings

 

A shadowy figure moves throughout the night.  Though colorful in character, his identity remains a secret.  Staying concealed, he stalks the unsuspecting streets of Gotham.  Exactly what he is looking for he does not know; but he’ll know when he finds it…

 

What a lovely young couple, he thinks, observing the pair strolling, arms linked, down the sidewalk in the late hours of the evening.  They seem fully enamored, whispering into one another’s ear, laughing at the sweet nothings uttered for only them to hear.  Young, attractive; they appear well-off, with a bright future full of endless possibilities before them.  Taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather for this time of the year, they decided to get out of their cramped apartment & stretch their legs before being cooped up inside for one of those treacherous Gotham winters.  

 

The shadow following them belongs to a man familiar with the city, but who hasn’t visited in quite some time.  Various interests, responsibilities & pursuits drew him elsewhere: but he’s always considered Gotham his playground. 

 

Far too long he’d withheld these feelings festering inside his mind that he dare not share with another soul.  His doctors, colleagues, peers, associates-no one knew these thoughts he kept to himself; the unspeakable urges acted out inside his own head on a daily basis.  No one would understand.  No one but him could comprehend why he was the way he was; why he did the things he did.  And why he would continue doing those things until he was stopped.

 

‘Look at this clown,’ he overhears the man scoff, his voice carrying down the vacant city corridors.  

‘Sweetheart,’ she replies, uncomfortably; perhaps her woman’s intuition alerting her something was not quite right about this harlequin figure heading their direction.  Maybe she perceived his intentions were no laughing matter.  

 

The two individuals try avoiding eye contact, retreating within themselves, hoping to ignore attracting the attention of presumably the only other person whose presence could be felt walking the avenues of this vast gothic empire.  But no matter how hard they tried pretending he wasn’t there, how hard they tried pretending he wasn’t part of their world, perverting it, corrupting their perfect existence, his gaze, his motives, and his malice were already fixated on them; and their fate was inescapable…

 

There’s a new breed of villain in Gotham.  ‘Killer Clown Strikes Again’…that’s what the front page of the Gotham Times read this morning.  An entire city waking up in fear: and it isn’t the first time.  Over the last few weeks this sort of sensationalized bold print has graced the covers and front pages of our daily gazettes far too frequently.  Stopping this deadly trend has been my main mission ever since the initial attack; but thus far I’ve failed miserably in my efforts to bring this lunatic to justice, and put an end to this circus.  Me, and the Gotham City PD.  Hopeful this endeavor might bring our two enterprises closer together, alas, in their eyes I’m still ‘Public Enemy #1’-not this madman going around wearing clown makeup, seemingly hunting down the good people of Gotham for sport.  No rhyme or reason to who, how, or where he strikes, no patterns have emerged, no behaviors that can be analyzed to further narrow down the field of potential suspects.  Along with this face-painted psycho infiltrating our city, there’s another, possibly more ruthless, sociopath in town.

 

The profile of his sleek, bald head & chiseled jawline stare out the large pane-glass window of Wayne Tower, 70 stories up, overlooking the Gotham skyline, silhouetted against a sea of concrete monuments built to the gods of capitalism as the sun hangs high in the mid-morning sky.  The body of a god in a $10,000 suit.  Below him, like ants, he watches the hundreds of thousands of tiny specks encapsulating this decaying city scurry along, going through the mundane motions of their meaningless lives, attempting to produce some semblance of significance among their oppressive futility.  He watches, and as he does, the awareness to his power over them, his undeniable might, his indelible right, surges within him.  For too long the full potential of Gotham had been squandered by its unofficial ‘First Family’.  The Waynes wasted their opportunity to amass a total monopoly, choosing instead to be philanthropic over becoming an unmitigated conglomerate.  

 

‘I hate being here under these circumstances,’ Lex stated, breathing a heavy sigh.  Lex Luthor’s father tried talking sense into Thomas Wayne, hoping to convince him to let Luthor Corp merge with Wayne Enterprises; but after their accident, the destiny of both companies was up in the air.  ‘Still: I can’t help but look out at Gotham, and see all this potential.  Potential you & I can make happen together, Bruce: like our fathers always wanted…’

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Both born and raised in Gotham, Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor were the sole progenies of the city’s two most influential families. More than friends, Bruce & Lex’s fathers became inseparable throughout their time pursuing their doctorates.  Ambitious entrepreneurs, the two classmates collaborated to develop communications software that led to what would be one day become the introductory phase of ‘the internet’.  Heralded as ‘Revolutionaries’ in their field, before long they had millions upon millions of dollars pouring in from various donors looking to replicate their unparalleled advancements.  

 

More philanthropic, Thomas Wayne wanted to donate their resources to those less fortunate (i.e. schools, hospitals, government buildings, municipal services, etc.), while Lionel Luthor wanted to gain as much profit as possible from the seeds of all his hard labor.  This contention created friction between the two men.  Thomas Wayne, though altruistic in nature, was no pushover.  Uncompromising in his ethics and beliefs, he was troubled by Lionel’s penchant for greed, causing the two to part ways unceremoniously. 

 

Rooted in Gotham, The Waynes made no illusions they would move their family anywhere else to start over.  Unable to coexist in the same city as the man he viewed as his most competitive business rival, Lionel Luthor uprooted his wife and child out of the large shadow The Waynes cast, settling in Metropolis; some 1,500 miles away from the Gotham City limits.  In his absence, the ‘Wayne’ name flourished, their empire growing beyond what Lionel Luthor ever could’ve dreamed.        

 

Over time, Lionel came to realize the error of his ways, looking to reconcile with his long-time partner and friend.  That’s why he arranged for him, Thomas, and their wives to go on a trip; to smooth over any tensions, animosity, or resentment between the two couples.  However, before leaving Thomas confided in Bruce his reservations about doing any dealings with Luthor Corp, and its founder, again.  

 

‘I’m going to talk to Lionel, hear what he has to say: but I haven’t made up my mind,’ he told Bruce in one of their last talks together, the two of them strolling the grounds of Wayne Manor, as they often did.  Bruce and his father were close; closer than Lex and his father.  Perpetually feeling inferior to the tremendous amount of fame, notoriety, and prestige The Waynes cultivated for themselves, Lionel continuously pushed himself, and his son, to succeed: to never be ‘second best’.  Which made sharing the same city as a ‘Superman’ all the more intolerable for Lex.

 

‘Where does he even come from?’ he asked, exasperated.  Lex was desperate to get back to the old ways when he was the Golden Boy everyone talked about.  The ‘Boy Wonder of Metropolis’…Gotham never embraced The Luthors the way it did Bruce and his family, so Lex and the rest of his kin had to forge their own legacy in a new town.  Ex-communicated, The Luthors shaped Metropolis into their own vision; a vision now obscured by the blur of its new, flying Messiah.  

 

‘It’s bad enough to have some alien flying around my city: but now, pray tell, I hear tales of clowns, and a giant ‘bat’ man flying around yours!  What’s next: a ‘Cat’ woman…?’  Lex was looking at this latest venture as a way to escape from underneath the thumbnail of Metropolis’ ‘Man of Steel’.  Now, with his father’s untimely demise, he wanted to capitalize on the instability plaguing the two newest ‘Titans of Industry’.  With the leadership and guidance of his parents prematurely ripped away, Bruce was left to fend for himself amongst the wolves, and Lex’s reputation preceded him.  Notoriously ruthless, unquestionably tenacious, and undeniably cutthroat, he bought up and sold smaller corporations for hobby, consolidating and foreclosing them when he’d extracted their worth, like the megalomaniac he was.        

 

Plus, Bruce heard the other stories about Lex.  The tabloid allegations, the indiscrepancies swept under the rug.  Things either paid to go away, or made to go away.  Uninformed of Thomas Wayne’s misgivings, Lex expected a deal to go through, based upon the expressed delusions of his dad.  Coming back to Gotham was supposed to be a ‘homecoming’ of sorts for this ‘Prodigal Son’.  The title of ‘Favorite Son’ was already taken, trickling down from Thomas Wayne to the prince of Gotham, Bruce.  Unfortunately, Lex knew, for all his bravado, if he wanted to legitimately conquer Gotham, he needed Bruce’s access, his connections, and his approval.  But Bruce Wayne was preoccupied.  He honestly didn’t know who was in more danger right now: him, or his alter-ego. 

 

It was Bruce Wayne in the middle of that boardroom, but he might as well have been wearing a cape & cowl instead of an Armani suit, as his mind was consumed with thoughts of the killer clown’s latest victims, and what The Batman’s next move was going to be.  He saw Lex’s lips moving, but no sound came out of his mouth.  Rather, all Bruce could hear were the words of the young lady who was spared the night before.  He imagined her lying in her hospital bed, talking to reporters, or police, about what happened.  ‘He stood over me, laughing the whole time, like it was some big joke!’  Between the makeup, the outfit, and the hysterical laughter, this killer seemed to possess a flair for the theatrics that gave a grown man in a giant rubber bat costume a run for his money.  

 

Why bats?  Because when he was contemplating donning a getup to fight crime, there was a bat infestation in one of the neglected wings of his massive manor.  The house had not been cared for as properly as when his mother and father were alive.  The lone resident, there seemed no need to retain the small army of staff his parents employed during their tenure as proprietors of the property; therefore, the home suffered.  Living alone, Bruce held onto the family butler, letting the rest of the stewards go with very generous severance packages.  The chirping of the flying pests was the only thing keeping him company on many occasions, with Bruce regularly inspecting the origins of the squeaks echoing throughout the hallowed mansion halls.  ‘Do be careful, Master Bruce: dirty animals those winged vermin are,’ his butler Alfred warned him multiple times.  ‘Also, they terrify me, those filty critters…’  

 

If Bruce were going to make a difference he would have to get filthy, circumventing the system he viewed as ineffective in removing the criminals he sought to rid from the world they threatened and harassed.  After his parents’ death, Bruce, like every other citizen in Gotham, witnessed the deterioration of the city on a colossal scale.  Only a few months since their passing, somehow his mother & father seemed to represent the glue holding the fabric of this society together; and once they were gone, civility, decorum, and hospitality went with them, as Gotham turned into a den of iniquity, and a haven for the depraved.  By becoming ‘Batman’, by becoming this symbol for a people in need of saving, he wished to preserve his parents’ legacy in a way he couldn’t solely as ‘Bruce Wayne’.

 

‘Thank you, Lex,’ he said, snapping back into attention once he saw his guest’s mouth stop.  ‘You’ve given me a lot to think about,’ he added, lifting his muscular frame from the chair at the head of the long, rectangular table in the center of the room.  

 

‘Yes, well, it’s an exciting possibility,’ Lex replied, skeptical if his words were as carefully listened to as carefully as they’d been selected.  ‘I hope you’ll give it serious consideration.’

 

‘I will, I will,’ Bruce retorted in an almost flippant tone, not indicative of the severity of the situation.  He had lots of questions of Lex Corp’s business dealings & practices, but more importantly, he had questions about the man running it.  Sure, they knew each other when they were young, but what type of man had Lex become since leaving Gotham all those years ago?  They’d lost touch after their fathers’ falling out, only reuniting some 20 years later after the tragic events that led to the simultaneous deaths of both their parents.  Now, for better or worse, the two were inextricably linked for eternity; or, at the very least, for the rest of their lives.  

 

‘Come, Ms. Kyle,’ Lex beckoned to his assistant, attentively waiting in the corner of the room, removed from the big decisions being made by powerful men.  Capable, she knew how to play the game, sitting on the sidelines, patiently bidding her time until she too was one of the marquee players.

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