Peter Wayne sat in the family library; a palatial room. that would make many a librarian feel giddy. He himself didn’t feel giddy, just tired.
He’d returned to Gotham after twelve years abroad to find the city in a worse state than when he left. Crime was rampant, an ineffective police force dogged by corruption and brutality, an uncaring local government, homelessness and an actual black cloud above the city due to several badly placed factories polluting the air. It’d be easier to get back on the jet and fly away. And he had the luxury of running away thanks to he billions he’d inherited from his parents.
“Miss you,” he said to the family portrait hanging above the fireplace. It was the last photo of all three of them and also the last professional work by renowned photo artist Louie Leibovitz. Peter’s thoughts drifted back to that fateful night.
The man raced past him. If only he’d tripped him or said something, but he hadn’t. The man pulled a gun and put a bullet in his father, Thomas, and another in his mother, Mary. The man escaped with a handful of pearls leaving Peter kneeling in the streetlight howling beside his dead parents, blood seeping into the asphalt.
Dr Thomas Wayne was a brilliant scientist and jack-of-all-trades. He dabbled in medicine, physics, chemistry, astronomy earning degrees and diplomas but always searching for something new. He made made millions with some of his ideas, combined it with the families assets along with those his wife Mary the millions became billions, multiple billions. Mary also came from money but was never comfortable with it, devoting time and effort to charity. She founded Parker Industries, named after her maiden name, and with the Wayne billions turned it into a force for change in Gotham with support programs, scholarships and charity.
It was a rare night in September when Thomas wasn’t booked to speak or making a new chemical in his lab on the same night Mary wasn’t hosting a gala or wrangling donations. Peter asked to go to the movies. A fateful choice.
Upon their death Peter was placed in the temporary care of Benjamin Pennyworth, the family butler whilst lawyers argued. Tabloids ran articles about the Saddest Billionaire and You’ve Hit The Jackpot Peter as he was the sole inheritor to a fortune of about thirty billion dollars. Peter did what most kids do in stressful situations; he ran away.
He didn’t get far as he fell into a sinkhole in the back corner of the Wayne Estate, plunging into a massive cave complex. Benjamin found him; terrified and starving, after three days covered in bat guano and cobwebs. He took the boy to a retreat in Switzerland to escape and recover.
Using Switzerland as a base, Peter took adventures across the globe as he was his fathers son and not being able to focus on just one thing. Six months in Okinawa learning karate, three months in Brazil learning capoeira, trekking in Afghanistan, all to fill the hole in his heart. He kept up his studies via correspondence and kept a low profile from prying media eyes. Months became years and years suddenly became a decade. The once young boy was now a man of twenty. He’d been everywhere and learnt everything from tang-soo, knitting, Krav Maga, archery, flamenco dancing, hapkido, breath control, pottery, kungfu and photography.
And Gotham welcomed him with almost hysteria. Poor Little Rich Kid Comes Home and Prodigal Son Returns were the headlines. Peter took up the reins of the directionless and badly run Parker Industries and spent two years fighting board members and corrupt government officials. He longed to do more on a personal level but more than galas and giant novelty cheque’s.
“This city needs to be cleaned up,” Peter said as he gazed out the massive window. “Criminals are a cowardly and superstitious lot! Bit like investors. Something needs to spook them, to MAKE them change. But what...is that?”
Peter watched a bat fly skittishly across the sky. It was erratic and hypnotic. Suddenly it dove and plunged straight into the window exploding it. Peter was hit in the face by the aggressive mammal and it clawed and bit him drawing blood. Peter tosses the animal into the floor with a sickening thud.
“Oh my god!” Peter huffed feeling his injuries before swooning and collapsing on the floor.
—
“Master Wayne?”
Peter stirred and slowly opened his eyes. “Why are you upside down, Ben?”
“I think you’ll find, Master Wayne, that it is you who are vertically challenged,” Ben replied drolly.
Peter realised he was hanging upside down from the corner of his room. “What is going on?”
“Shall I fetch you a broom for the cobwebs sir?”
Peter scurried the right way up. “It must’ve been the bat that attacked me in the library!”
“Not Colonel Mustard with a lead pipe?”
Peter looked at his hands and then leapt down, casually and unconsciously, doing a triple somersault. “This is amazing!”
“Spectacular and possibly sensational too,” Ben said. “Breakfast sir?”
“No time!” Peter raced to the library.
Log in to comment