2 C2 A new light

(A/N: Want to read ahead of what I've posted so far? Go to my patreòn and get early access chapters.

As of this chapter, the patreòn is 1 chapters ahead at chapter 3. I'll probably be writing and posting at least 2 more chapters tonight.

https://www.patreón.com/AlienWarlord

Get on Discord https://discord.gg/JhVeZn5

Thanks for the Power Stones. Enjoy the chapter!)

(I'm halfway done writing chapter 4 but I'm tired so I'll finish it and have it on patreón when I wake up.)

"W-We gave you everything you wanted. W-Why?" Martha asks as she tugs her son behind her, once again shielding the petrified boy from harm.

"Oh really?" The gunman asked as he points the gun at her now-dead husband's left wrist. "How do you explain that then?"

"Huh?" Martha mutters as she sees the silver wristwatch poking out of her husband's sleeve.

Thomas always forgot he was wearing his watches. He would shower and sleep with one on for days at a time.

She always reminded him to take it off, but this time Martha was far too occupied with handing over her own jewelry that she forgot about her husband.

She remembers him handing over his wedding ring, but that was it.

Meanwhile, the young boy behind her was too shocked and scared to utter a single word, let alone scream. His eyes were transfixed on the bloody holes in his dead father's head.

The pool of blood forming under his father and the vacant look in his eyes was all the boy needed to see in order to understand that his father wasn't with them anymore.

At this moment, Martha knew there was no reasoning with this man. He could have simply demanded the watch as well, but instead, he shot and killed her husband.

Over a watch.

Granted it is a fairly expensive watch but the loot he's already pocketed from them would support a fairly high-income family for many years.

Not to mention the fact that they've seen his face. They could describe him to a police sketch artist fairly easily.

It would be hard to forget the face of the man that murdered your husband or father.

Knowing that she can't trust this man with the life of her child any longer, Martha kicked off her high heels, swooped her son up off the ground, and ran for her life.

With her back turned to the gunmen, once again shielding her son from any possible projectiles, Martha ran as fast as she could toward the end of the alley.

All she could think of was how much she hoped Alfred heard the gunshots, as she imagined him turning the corner ahead of her and shooting down the thief that just murdered the man she loved.

Saving her and her son in the process.

Sadly, she didn't make it very far before three more deafening gunshots were heard.

*Bang Bang Bang*

Martha managed to get a little way down the alley, so the gunmen didn't trust his aim to go for headshots as he did with her husband.

Each shot hit center mass in Martha's back, propelling her forward, falling with her son landing beneath her, still shielding him from the gunmen.

Hoping Alfred would hurry up, Martha looked into her son's eyes and smiled weakly.

"M-Mom..." He stutters.

"It's okay, Bruce. Everything is going to be fine..." She whispered as the light leaves her eyes, matching the same look he saw from his father moments earlier.

Tragically, even with her best sacrificial effort, a single bullet managed to make its way completely through Martha's body and embed itself in the now named Bruce's chest.

Bruce's mother simply didn't notice it before her tragic and untimely death.

Maybe that was for the best...

While Bruce was having the worst and most painful day of his short life, buried under his dead mother's warm corpse with a bullet in his chest, the mugger smiled sinisterly at his handiwork.

Anybody looking would be able to tell that this wasn't his first homicide, and if he gets away it won't be his last.

After taking a short moment to admire the carnage, the capped gunmen put his empty gun back into his pocket and walked over to the lifeless body of his first victim, relieving the corpse of its expensive timepiece, and snatching his suits cufflinks as well while he was at it.

Hearing rapid footsteps and commotion coming from the end of the alley, and seeing no movement from the downed mother and son, the capped gunmen secured his loot and ran the opposite way towards the back end of the alleyway.

Just as he was rounding the corner out of the alley's backside, a well-dressed man in a black butler suit swiftly turned the corner on the opposite end.

He had a pistol drawn and moved into the alley with the grace of a veteran soldier. Scanning the alleyway, the butler saw the tail end of a man leaving the alley opposite him, but that wasn't his biggest concern at the moment.

What alarmed him beyond belief was the downed figures of the newly murdered family, laying in puddles of their own blood.

Putting away his gun, the butler ran to the nearest corpse, which just so happened to be Martha.

"Mrs. Wayne!?" He asks as he kneels down and checks her pulse, not feeling anything.

Not noticing Bruce under his mother, as her body and large coat hid him fairly well, the butler moved onto the other body further down the alley.

"Master Wayne!?" He calls out again and checks for a pulse.

Once again not getting any response or feeling any pulse.

Looking around vigilantly, the butler searches the alley for something.

Suddenly, he remembers that there was a third family member on their trip tonight.

"Young Master Bruce?!" He yelled in a slight panic.

He could keep his cool in many situations, but when it comes to a child's life, the butler finds it hard to control his emotions.

"Bruce!!" Not hearing an instant reply, he yells again, but this time without any honorifics.

There was no time to worry about such things when lives were on the line.

Sadly, young Bruce Wayne was buried under his mother with a bullet in his chest and couldn't speak because of a lack of air in his lungs.

The bullet seems to have pierced the young boy's lungs, which are now filling with blood at a rapid pace.

As Bruce drowned in his own blood and the light left his eyes just like his mother and father before him, a new light took its place, shining much brighter than the last.

PoWeR StOnEs