Batman

• Steven Hu, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2017

The wind howled as the fearsome gust tortured the tattered mansion. But no matter how strong it once was, the whirlwind penetrated its defences. It shattered the glass and took the paint with it. But the pain had only begun. The rain smashed on the door steps and tore it apart. The door gave way to the lightning and gave a collective groan as is shattered to the floor. The earth tumbled as the earthquake wanted to play its part in this execution. It threw the trees into the air and it came crashing back on the mansion's roof as if to say that this had only begun but the gunshot silenced it all…
The tectonic plates rolled back in place and the thunder hid itself in the clouds. The rain immediately dissolved into the earth and the wind fell within the trees. All hid in awe and wonder at how the gunshot had so much power over the feeble (executioners). The lone stranger dashed for what once was the door and entrance to the unstable house. Cursing, he went to inspect the remains of the shattered building. All was gone.
*****
Hours turned into days, days became weeks, weeks evolved into years. Still the lone stranger stood there, growing ever so slowly but the body had reached its limit. A quiet groan shrieked as the man fell to the ground. The long series of tiny squeak he wailed was nothing but a tiny replica of the everlasting sound that was created during the storm. Then as silent as he came he disappeared.
The legend went on and on. Soon the stories were born unto new generations and then passed down the line. But different people recalled various versions and soon that very lone stranger bore a new name…


Batman…