Spider-Knight

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Batman. This is simply fanfiction.

"THOUGHTS"

Chapter One: Training Begins

"My baby's name is Bruce, Thomas! Isn't he just darling?" the child's mother, Martha, said to her husband as she held her child in her arms as they left the hospital. The birth had been painful but she had birthed a healthy baby boy.

"Hmm. I can tell from here that he's strong."

"How can you tell something like that?"

"I know these things, Martha. I'm a doctor after all. At any rate, I would like to see about placing him in gymnastics and ballet. Even playing in the band would be a good idea along with other things that would make him more cultured," Thomas replied.

"Hmm. All right. That might work. I just know he's going to make me proud!"

XXX

In his formative years, Bruce participated in ballet and acrobatics which included tumbling and contortionism, his teacher having been a Chinese circus acrobat and a martial artist himself. This training allowed him to jump higher and move faster than most kids his age could.

However, Bruce only went through these disciplines as a matter of course. The dedication he exhibited was enough for his parents who also placed him in speed reading, fast-paced math, and memory courses to help him advance further in school.

One day Bruce's father took note of Bruce studying which was more intense than other grammar school students his age.

"Good work, son. Your grades are remarkable. But I think you could use a break," Thomas said as Bruce turned towards him.

"What do you mean, Dad?"

"I have tickets for the movie, Zorro, tonight. Would you like to see it?"

"Yeah!" Bruce called out as he ran out of his chair in excitement and right into his father who stood in the hallway, almost bowling him over.

"Take it easy, Bruce. Wash up and get your nice clothes on. We're going out to dinner first then we'll see the movie."

"Yes, Dad!" Bruce announced as he ran back into his room and got himself ready for a glorious evening, an evening which he would never forget.

XXX

After the movie had ended, Bruce and his parents were walking towards their car which was several blocks away from the movie theater. There had been several events going on that night so finding a good parking space that was closer to the theater was impossible.

"Should we walk this way through this dark alley, Thomas?" Martha asked with a face full of concern as she turned towards him.

"It's not a problem, Martha. Besides, going through here is a great shortcut."

"Are you sure, Thomas? I heard the name of this place is called Crime Alley," the young woman said as she regarded him.

"That's all just hyperbole, Martha. We'll get back to our car sooner this way," the doctor answered with a smile and a wink.

"All right, next time we should just take a cab. You know how hard it is to drive through Gotham."

"Yes, it's even harder to get a taxi in New York at this time of night. However, we can have Alfred drive us to where we need to go and pick us up when we need to come home," Thomas explained as the alley got further and further away from the big city lights.

However, as the family made their way through the alley, two shadowy figures followed after them with their weapons at the ready. When the Waynes had entered the darkest part of the alley the assailants made their move.

"Give us the purse and that necklace you're wearing!" one of the thugs said as he reached for Martha's neck violently, his hand going down her blouse while the other thug pointed a gun in Thomas' direction, backing up his confederate.

"Get your hands off my wife, you piece of filth!" Thomas yelled as he rushed the thug, surprising him and striking him with a right cross followed up by a roundhouse left that sent him crashing to the ground. As he turned around with his fists at the ready, he saw the other thug shoot him right between the eyes, forcing him to fall backward. As he lay there, his dead eyes stared upwards into space as he lay on the ground.

"Thomas! Thomas! You shot him! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Why did shoot him?! He was such a good man! He didn't deserve that!"

"Shut up, bitch!" the thug who shot Thomas demanded, but Martha had become so hysterical with grief as she continued to cry out loud.

"Oh, Thomas!"

"I said shut up!" Then he shot Martha several times in the chest and the stomach, prompting her to fall dead before she hit the ground.

Upon recovering from the beating Thomas had given him, the first thug struggled to get to his feet and shrewdly regarded Bruce who was on the ground with his parents, staring at them while the blood left their bodies and creating a pool around them.

"Hey, you, get up!" the first thug called out, shooting his gun off at the boy's head barely missing him thus snapping Bruce out of his malaise.

"Yes, you! Get on your feet!"

As the boy got to his feet, he glared at his parents' killer with his fists balled up and his arms at his sides.

"We can't afford to leave any witnesses so you gotta die too. Sorry, kid," he said as Bruce bent his knees and elbows.

However, as the thug attempted to shoot the boy he found his target had leaped upwards to his right, bouncing off a nearby wall.

"Stay still, you stupid kid!" the thug demanded while Bruce hit the ground with his hands and shot upwards avoided the deadly gunfire.

"Jake, help me gun this kid down!"

"I've trying but he's moving too fast, Joe!" Jake cried out as he fired in vain at the fast-moving orphan.

"Joe, I'm outta bullets."

"Then reload, dumbass!"

"Reload?! I didn't bring that many cartridges with me! If you hadn't grabbed the bitch's tits, we'd have all their money and be gone by now."

Joe turned towards Jake glaring at him as if he was crazy. Then he turned back towards the fast-moving target.

"I'll get you yet, you brat!" Joe called out as he continued to miss the agile boy, emptying his nine-millimeter gun.

However, before he could reload the sounding of police car sirens became evident. Thus the two thugs looked up, unsure from where the sirens were coming and to where they were going. Despite all this, Joe continued to reload.

"Joe, we gotta get outta here! The cops is coming!" Jake said, pulling Joe away. However, before he left, Joe left a few parting shots, one of which struck Bruce on the side of the head, sending him crashing to the ground, stunning him.

Bruce wasn't the kind of person who got out of the house that much so he was somewhat paralyzed and in shock by what had just happened when he woke up. Thus he stared like a zombie after the men who ran away into the darkness. As he cradled his dead mother's head in his arms he cried out into the night, sobbing for the last time in entire his life.

XXX

After the paramedics took Bruce's parents to the hospital and the doctors had declared them dead on arrival, they called in the police who questioned the boy for an hour. Bruce answered their questions the best he could, giving descriptions of the thugs and explaining everything that had happened. However, the interviewing police detective could not fail to notice how listless the boy was.

Bruce's eyes were wide and unmoving as Alfred drove him home from the hospital and the police station. As the limousine made its way through the city, Bruce kept on staring into space, his thoughts unknown to everyone but himself. As soon as he had gotten home, it was morning. After waiting for Alfred to park the car, Bruce shot out of the vehicle and ran into the house. As soon as he was able to get to the phone, he called the acrobat who had been training him.

"Hello?"

"Master Chow, I want you to keep training me. I swear to you I will take your training more seriously from now on!" Bruce said solemnly as he spoke with an intensity his coach had never seen in him.

"I have heard about the death of your parents on the news, so I'm very sorry. But I'm surprised at your new determination."

"I mean what I'm saying. I would also like a list of other competent martial arts instructors," the young boy stated.

"All right. I will start advancing your training. It will not be easy. But it will be possible. Since I've been training you since you could barely walk the foundation has been laid. Now the real training begins. I must finish your training quickly because I don't have long to live," Master Chow stated.

"All right," Bruce answered as he hung up the phone. Then he felt a presence behind him. Turning around he saw, "Alfred?"

"Now see here, Master Bruce. Just because your parents have met with a gruesome end does not mean you need to go off the deep end," the butler said.

"There are a lot of things I need to do."

"Make sure what you do isn't too dangerous. And your education must continue, not just for school, but as a sophisticated gentleman as well."

Bruce thought about that. He had already decided to wage a war on crime. The sophisticated rich gentleman would be a great facade so he would get an education in many things. He had no intention of growing up to be a powerful idiot.

"Of course, Alfred. I'll grow up to be a gentleman as well," Bruce answered.

XXX

"Huff! Huff!"

"Keep at it, Bruce. I'm happy you're not complaining about the training the way you sometimes did in the past. Your dedication is phenomenal. I've never seen such determination. You're the best student I've had in a long time."

"Thanks, Sifu! Huff!"

"I still find it hard to believe that you're taking so many martial arts at the same time. I know you're young, but where are you getting the energy?"

Bruce paused for a moment. "You've inspired me, Sifu."

"Just me? All of my martial arts friends have told me you're equally dedicated to their training as well. Do you blame yourself for your parents' deaths?"

"No, Sifu. I just want to learn as much as possible."

"All right. Good work landing on your feet after those somersaults. You're doing them exactly correct despite the 100 pounds I've laden your back with. Are you getting tired, Bruce?"

"No, Sifu!" the young boy blurted out, his strength of will forcing his exhausted body to keep moving in defiance of it.

Despite his hard training or because of it, Bruce had become a much better student at school. He also did a lot of extra studying that he didn't have to do. Bruce had even become more dedicated at learning speed reading, lightning calculator and memory training. Upon learning these talents he had brought other kinds of tutors to learn many more skills that had nothing to do with martial arts. It was nothing short of amazing how Bruce was able to get the most competent people to teach him their skills.

"His father and his mother both had charisma but Bruce has taken these inborn abilities to an extreme. I get the suspicious feeling that the young boy doesn't plan to be just a martial artist," the kung fu acrobatic coach thought to himself as he put Bruce through his paces.

"Bruce has even learned how to be an accomplished actor. Is he planning on becoming a martial arts movie star?"

"Stop and rest, Bruce. Use the regenerative exercises I've taught you. Yes, that's it. You must remember how properly recover from the most grueling training and workouts. One of the greatest Chinese martial artists of the last century died because he trained extremely hard and did not know how to recover. This may seem tedious now but you'll thank me for this when you're a whole lot older and this technique will be most necessary."

"Yes, Sifu."

XXX

A few years later, Alfred was driving Bruce from school.

"There's something about which I'd like to speak to you, Master Bruce."

"What is it, Alfred?"

"While I have no reason to complain about your academics, you seem to be spending so much time training your body and mind. What are you planning?"

"I'm planning on becoming a detective. It would be pointless becoming stronger than my enemies if I'm easily outsmarted," Bruce answered.

"Detective? Are you planning on some kind of revenge? Surely, you'd have no problem thrashing the people who have killed your parents. However, I sense there's something else for which you're training," Alfred asked as he looked back over his shoulder, scrutinizing the young man.

"There is. It's not just revenge against the thugs who killed my parents, but against people like them all together."

"I see."

As time went on Bruce learned more various martial arts and techniques from well-respected teachers and those not so respected. He had already mastered gung fu(the ability to take a beating and have blunt attacks bounce off), iron skin(the ability to resist killing attacks), tai chi, and speed hitting(the ability to hit a target dozens of time in seconds).

Then Bruce had further learned climbing, jumping, and how to move quickly through obstacles. He had also learned everything he could about cars, electronics, computers, and other valuable subjects. Despite all this, Bruce felt what he knew wasn't enough.

XXX

"Master Bruce. Why are you still planning on a career in crime-fighting?" Alfred asked as Bruce ate his breakfast.

"Yes, what about it?"

"I appreciate the fact that you've done very well in school, graduating from college at such a young age. But what more do you need?"

"I'm going to learn all the fighting styles of the world if I can. I've not only learned many invaluable skills. I've also learned how to master new skills quickly. I'm also learning everything I can about the human body and what it's capable of doing, surpassing its limits. Thus I'm combining the science of the west with the mysticism of the east into a deadly, powerful combination."

"Exactly how many styles do you need to learn?" Alfred asked the young man.

"I've learned countless martial arts. I've also learned unsophisticated fighting styles like boxing, street fighting, and Greco-Roman wrestling."

"But what of all the studying you've been doing? I'm sure your parents would be proud of you if you would only finish your postgraduate education," Alfred answered.

"I've also sharpened my mind and spirit for what I'm planning to do," Bruce answered.

"What is that? Are you still planning on becoming a crime fighter of some kind?" Alfred asked.

"Yes. I'm not sure exactly how I'm going to do it but my main goal is to destroy the kind of people who killed my parents. I've even tried to learn psychic powers. I didn't get any psychic powers but I learned how to do the same thing psychics do but better with accurate data. But more important than all that, I learned how to do detective work. I've learned from the best detectives in the world. But there are some more things I need to learn."

"What would that be?"

"I need to know how things work from the criminal perspective."

XXX

When Bruce turned seventeen he left for the seedier parts of New York City. He had already learned how to disguise himself and use fake I.D.s to the point that he had even borrowed an identity for himself from a man called Falco Spumonti, an Italian American from Chicago who had moved to New York a couple of years back. He wore a fedora, slacks, dress jacket, and shirt that were similar to what most Italian gangsters wore. He knew all the lingo and street language but only from books.

"I need to learn about the street from the street. I already know everything about New York City's mean streets. I've even learned about Chicago's streets. Now it's time for me to learn about New York City's underworld element. I've done a lot of reading but the reading and studying I've done aren't enough; I need to learn even more."

I've studied the person I'm pretending to be. The real Falco Spumonti died from having been strangled to death, his assassins, burying him into the ground afterward. Falco was buried so deep in a cave no one found the body except for me. The ability to sense things and track down people even though they were dead came in handy after I heard that someone had been whacked. Doing a backward tracking, retracing the steps of the guys who had bragged about killing Spumonti was also helpful. It's interesting what one can hear about in a seedy bar if someone hides in plain sight. If anyone asks how "I" survived I'll say I played dead after my attackers had strangled me and climbed my way out of the hole they had dumped me in."

"I've been studying the underbelly of this city for a while now. The ability to hide in the shadows has been very useful. I know what crimes I will have to do as Falco to learn even more about how things work but sooner or later I'll have to be arrested. From prison, I'll get even more knowledge about how criminals act and think. Being identified as Falco Spumonti won't be a problem since I've already used my computer skills to hack into his ID stats and information. Once that was done I created a set of extremely thin, clinging invisible gloves that create matching fingerprints of the man I'm supposed to be. This completes the disguise. No one will be able to connect Mr. Spumonti to Bruce Wayne."

"Hey, Falco! I heard ya got whacked!" Falco's capo, Vito Gambino, who was a very large and intimidating man said, walking up to him with two other large men behind him.

"I'm too freakin tough to get whacked by the Lucchese Family's hired guns," Falco answered.

"I'm glad to hear that Falco. Since you're back, we might as well put you back to work. Replacing you was tougher than I thought it would be. I want ya to run the underground casino tonight. We've moved since the last time you ran it so I'll have to show ya where it is. But first, come with us," Vito said in a friendly manner.

"All right, fellas. Lead the way," Falco answered. Once they were inside a building where no one else could see them Vito's mood changed.

"Are ya wearing a wire, Falco?" Vito asked with hostility.

"No, Vito. I would never do somethin like that!"

"Search im, boys!" As the other two complied they found nothing on Falco but cold hard cash.

"What is this, Vito? Do ya want me to work for ya or not? If ya don't trust me I'll go somewhere else, maybe to Las Vegas; I hear they pay good money out there."

"Take it easy, Falco. I had to be sure. There's plenty of work here. You coming back from the dead was too good to be true. I didn't think you had turned rat but I had to be sure. You gotta lot money on ya, though. Did ya rob those Lucchese guys before they tried to off ya or what?" the capo asked as his eyes bored in on him.

"Something like that. After I survived their attempt to wack me I doubled back and took some of their stash they had hidden. I was coming here to cut ya in. I swear!" Falco stated.

"All right. I believe ya. You were always a weasel and a sneak, Falco. That's one of the reasons ya always did the jobs I wanted ya ta do. I'll just take my cut right now," Vito said as he took 40 percent of the money.

"If ya keep bringing me money like dis the Gambino Family might just make ya a made man so keep up the good work, Falco!" Vito said, happily slapping Falco on the back.

"Now, Rocko will show ya where tonight's game is being held."

XXX

Sometime later in another part of the city:

"Did ya hear the news, Marco?"

"What news, Vinnie?" the Lucchese capo asked.

"Falco Spumonti ain't dead; he's alive and well."

"What?"

"Falco's alive, I tell ya. He's working for Vito Gambino, running some of the Gambino underground casino games and doing other odd jobs for them. Everyone knows that we tried to take him out and failed. It's worse that he robbed us of the money we had hidden. We can't afford to let something like that slide. It's bad for business and respect."

"I wanted that guy dead! No one robs the Lucchese Family. Nobody!" Marco screamed, smashing the table in front of him with his massive strength!

"We sent some more hitmen after Falco but he beat them up. They even broke into his apartment and waited for him."

"What happened then, Vinnie?" the capo asked.

"The hitmen told me that Falco appeared right in the midst of them out of thin air and beat the tar out of them, severely injuring them. He then dumped them in a dark alley."

"I'm surprised he didn't just kill them outright. What do we do about this Falco guy, Vinnie?"

"We'll get him, Marco. We'll get him."

"How?"

"My spies have told me where the hidden casino is located. I can let the cops I've paid off know where the game is being played and tell them to be particularly ruff with Falco. If Falco survives these cops of mine, we can have him whacked in prison," the capo's lieutenant offered.

"I like the sound of that, Vinnie. You do that and keep me informed," the Lucchese capo ordered.

"Falco" had heard the whole conversation from the bugging devices he had placed in their headquarters. After the corrupt cops had busted him and beaten him up, they put in Sing Sing in the lea of his trial. He went through the motions of calling his lawyer only to get in an argument with him and fire him so he could stay in prison for a much longer time.

"I've learned a lot from the psychopaths, nihilists, rapists and other criminals with whom I'm incarcerated, beating them up as was needed. In time, eventually learning how to get along with the other prisoners, listening to them as they talked about why they did the things they did. And more importantly how they did or didn't get caught. I've also learned how some criminals are connected and able to still exert control over their gangs and operatives from their jail cells. This has all been very interesting but it's time for me to leave."

Bruce had observed how the inmates who had died were moved into coffins. So he had used his contortionist skills to practically slip through the bars of his cell one night. Then he evaded the video cameras by sticking to the shadows and video blind spots. After making his way to the room where the coffins were placed, he opened one the caskets and placed a thinner corpse into another coffin with a thinner corpse in it. Then he placed himself in the emptied coffin and bid his time. After some other inmates had buried him in the ground with all the others, he escaped from the coffin and dug his way out when before day fall.

When he had left the prison through an underground pathway few if any besides him knew existed, Bruce set things up so that nobody ever saw Falco Spumonti again.

XXX

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Next Chapter: Be here next Bat-time, Next Bat-channel.

You know the routine. READ and REVIEW.