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You think "Batman"?
No,
And why not?
Because I think only of power, I think the police for them to have guns to shoot them when they can, but Batman, if he does not show his power, I have no reason to be convinced.
But, he's here to "protect"? Not that clown.
I have not needed protection, is not organized crime, large, and some people are worried that people will be bribed with.
Did you hear about åklaragen who got his terapeuft bribed?
But I have not had any problems personally, so why should I care?
It's cold ...
So what?
I have nothing to say, but I care about Batman, I think he can make a difference.
He can "see" that even in dark times, there is hope ...
--
Hush
Bruce Wayne did not have many playmates as children, their home was among the finest in Gotham was right " outside " where all the other children were alive, he'd be a friend he was at home occasionally.
His name was Bruce's father , " Thomas" .
However, he could call him Tommy , the name was not much that Tommy cared about .
Bruce did not see much of his parents , they did not seem to have as much track of what Tommy was doing , or what friends he had with him . His mother seemed very nice, almost overly kind and positive every time she saw Tommy take home a friend.
One time Bruce had to leave Tommy earlier than usual , he knew why the button , but Tommy's father had started raging for some reason , he screamed and yelled and a bottle of alcohol was smashed against the wall.
Tommy's mother told Bruce to go home for the day.
Before he left , he could hear his mother comforting Tommy ,
- Hush , Hush , everything will be all right ...
death
Bruce never knew exactly "what" would have happened , had the shutter fired another shot ?
Had his dad made a mistake ?
Had a bad man made a criminal act ?
He could not explain it, he did not know what it was. He did not know what to say .
But after the theater changed his life forever.
They left the theater together, but they seemed to be alone, Bruce , his father and his mother.
It was chilly, Bruce had been somewhat surprised that he even went with us to the theater , it seemed as if only adults were there besides him . His parents bruakde take him on things , they trusted well that he could behave even though he was a child , he enjoyed them did.
Those others in the theater did not seem like it , they had all paid a lot of money to see it, and probably did not like a small child who surely could not even "understand" what the deep meaning of the play was something had been let in. .
They had been the only ones who left the theater early.
It seemed as if they were completely alone where they went , not much lights were , besides those near street lamps , it was almost pitch black. A crawling sensation ran up the Bruces , back, but he did not know why , maybe it was just nasty. He did not care about it, what could he do?
He could hardly have known that when the street was divided was a revolver, and a man desperate for money , a man who could not tolerate all the rich people who gottade with theater when he was out and froze , a person who could barely pay for their food but who had to watch them rich go back and forth in and out of the theater several times with huge money , for what?
How much goodies he could not buy for what such a ticket cost ...
All he wanted was to get some of their money , as if they would take damage , they could give them to him , then life could go on as if nothing happened . After a while, they would still have forgotten about it , as much money as they had them would hardly take damage . It was like ... " charity" .
Obviously , no one would just "give" him the money because he had the revolver , as a " security."
He had left the theater as he went in, nothing was annorlund everything had been normal.
But the night did not end with a tragedy in the theater , a tragedy people could see and weep , but then come home and forget.
Bruce was sitting alone over their dead parents' kroppas , blood leaked out, they had fallen into the single lamp on the street. Around them was darkness.
Bruce was there.
Bruce was alone in the darkness.
training
Every person who would train got enrolled in a book inside the temple , many fine inscriptions were there, all with probably a lot of money or good connections, training was special. It cost nothing really , but it was not official , few even knew about the temple or to those trained there .
The training was not klassificierad as a special martial arts. But it was hard, experience in a personal physical activity was only intagningskravetsig , not only because it would have good strength and conditioning before you could get there , but because they would before knowing what it was like to move, not to clown without to express something with your body that you did not have words for .
Bruce had trained some after school in basketball when he grew up. Some martial arts he had been doing well, that Alfred could pay helped when he wanted to try something new , but he tried to stick to one specific thing .
However, this was not a game , this was serious , the training was reputed to be able to make a beginner in the space of two years to people who could defeat them with a black belt .
They had special tactics that dug themselves into people's minds , not regulära exercises without an ability to get people to "see" how they will fight to achieve his goal .
How to read his opponent anytime , anywhere .
It was exactly what Bruce had been looking for, he had been careful to only Alfred knew he spent his time there.
The business leaders who were waiting for him to start working in his parents' legacy , everyone thought that he was traveling as everyone else his age was .
Bruce , however, had since years had plans , nothing that he decided , but as he had become increasingly resolute about what he wanted to do as an adult.
Surely he would be Bruce Wayne, a profesinoell person working people in the company, but he had " own " ideas as well.
Something that he could talk to Alfred about, your own career. And to achieve it , he needed training.
" Rahs Al Ghul ," was one of the names in the registration book.
Something he would later remember, but that was not yet more than a name.
--
I can not shake off that my parents died before my eyes Alfred.
I have been helped, but even if I feel good, does not mean anything "is" good.
None of them, I will work with know how it feels to have real problems welling spirit over and not be able to solve them automatically. And they do not care about it either, how would those be?
You mean you do not want to work in the company?
No, I'm going to work there ... but it will not be my "real work".
It happened to me, I could not do anything about it, sure, I can point the finger afterwards and accuse him of stealing my life, but that does not change the fact that I did not stop him.
You were just a kid.
Yet Alfred ...
Sure, I was a child my parents liked, a child who was not stupid that surely had a good future, but I still could not stop my parents from dying, all it took was a finger and a trigger, and my life is forever different.
It could happen to anyone heslt, anytime, the police will not halt förräns it's too late.
Someone, or "Something" needs to stop crime from happening, I will ensure that the "something" is.
-How?
My parents gave me huge money in heritage, it is not enough to buy luxury cars, I can do things others can only dream about.
If people know that there is someone out there who are not police, who they do not know how it works Perosnen, anyone who "voluntarily" trying to prevent crimes from being made.
It can give people inspiration.
It can give them hope. And it can give them, "Fear".
--
What did you like stand-up comedian when you ran out of jokes?
They needed a safe bet, something that the audience could easily feel involved in. Something like "touched" them all.
This card was crime. It was clear that crime rates rose in Gotham, especially organized crime, people might come to his show in order to get something else to think about instead of those disturbances which currently only done in the dark.
The joke had gone to hell, right after the show was over, he went alone into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, he saw himself as a monster, he was a huge failure. He painted on himself to hide his face, shame face. He watered to make up with his big hand and looked at himself.
Everything was a joke ... life was a big joke ...
But he had not managed to get the audience to laugh tonight, which made him devastated.
What could get him in a better mood?
It pounded on the door behind him.
-Hey, Jack, you are there or not, I also need to go?
He interfered so huge on him ... whenever he was on the toilet, he would come and disturb ...
But what if ...
He would not disturb ...
Jack thought no more, he took his knife he always wore as a defense when he went home at night, skärde broke his neck when he opened the door and saw the man fall together and the blood to flow down and mixed with plain water.
It was wonderful ...
He had ceased to disturb him ... just like that ...
Absolutely wonderful ...
And no one noticed anything, he could easily continue as the comedian he was.
The man was dead, but Jack would still make people laugh in the end, life was like in the end after all a joke ...
A sadistic joke.
But still a joke.
--
The Rain was Pouring down on all of them, they were standing outside in the cold doing pushups with nothing but mere shirts.
Bruce wondered if they were trying to train them or kill them. But this "was" the leuge of shadows and if you even managed to find them which Bruce only had done thanks to his money, they wouldnt train you like any other.
When they were told to stop making pushups they had to stand still in the rain, feeling the cold, most of them would probably get sick. They had been out for hours now.
One sudden noise was heard as one of them ate on a small piece of bread.
Bruce felt a small portion of fear, this was stricly against the rules, would they see? would they find out?
Rahs walked up to the man with harsh and quick steps.
-Thief!
He took a swing with his sword and Bruce saw the man getting decapateded, his head rolled out in the rain, blood mixed with water.
-What did you do!?
Bruce looked at Rahs with anger within him.
-Crime cannot be tolerated.
-He was starving and you cut his head off!?
-And where is the crime Bruce? Where is the lawyer, the court, the law?
Crime happens every day, yet you tell me that when it happens right infornt of your eyes, there is a differance?
You are calling me a killer?
Did you know anything about this man at all? Why he was hear, what he was trying to accomplish? I can smell greed a mile away, this man deserved what he got. And when I killed him, you just "stood by" and watched.