//------------------------------//
// A nightmare in Ponyville: part one 
// Story: Bruce Wayne, dark knight of Ponyville 
// by ultronquake 
//------------------------------//

	It was a familiar scene Bruce found himself wandering in, a Gotham city night many years ago.  The air was crisp and the streets glowed with an orange tint.  Out from the theater walked a happy family of three, mother, father and child had just seen a rousing action film.  Without thinking twice the father guides them down an alleyway, hoping it will cut off some inconsequential minutes from their walk home.  

In this lucid state Bruce walked ahead of them, fully aware of what was about to happen.  The alley was hazy and poorly lit only by the reflections of a neon sign on the other side.  He wondered to himself if he'd been more aware, could he have spotted the thieves and murderers laying in waiting behind the swirling blue smoke?  Through his vivid imagination he almost saw one of them, though the shape seemed off.

The nightmare proceeded as it always did, as his own history did.  His younger self skipping down into the dark path with a bag of popcorn in hand, mother and father not too far behind, their son bringing a smile to their faces.  Then the mugger emerged brandishing a long barreled revolver, he grabbed at the string of pears around her neck breaking the necklace, sending valuable beads skittering across the cobblestone.

Father stepped in between them without thinking and was repaid with a bullet in the heart, his body violently falling backward into a puddle of standing water.  Only a moment later but what seemed like an eternity mother was next, her beautiful fur shawl stained with mud and her own cold blood.  Though Bruce wanted to look away it would serve no purpose, even if he closed his eyes the horrific images were burned into his memory like a brand on a bull.

Instead he only stood and stared at the poor child before him, who just watched everything wonderful in his life get torn to shreds in an instant.  He knew the rest by heart, the boy too shocked to move would stand their while the murderer prepared to kill him too.  Just before it could happen a policeman's whistle would scare him off, to disappear into the blue smoke and never be brought to justice.

Though this time his ever repeating nightmare took a strange turn, to his astonishment he watched the gun turned at the phantom of his youth fire.  It was horrifying beyond what he could explain, what more the action brought what seemed like real pain though it was only perceived.  As the inner child lay bleeding in the street the phantom of the killer did something new and terrifying, acknowledge Bruce.

"Tell me, how does it make you feel that I can do this to you in your dreams?  Does it make you afraid?"  Bruce refused to answer, instead he tried to judge the being in front of him.  "No?  Not even a twinge of panic at seeing poor little Bruce Wayne getting shot in the face?  How about this then?"  With his word the three imagined corpses on the ground began to twist and writhe, sounds of breaking bones and pained moans could be heard as their battered frames arose and began to shamble toward Bruce.  

He couldn't help but feel frightened, it was an icy fear like some invisible hand was on him drawing all the warmth from his body.  But that feeling didn't last long, "I don't know who or what you are but you are not welcome in my mind."  Remembering he was the master of his own psyche he conjured up a powerful wind that erased the animated corpses from existence, though the killer stayed stationary the disguise he wore was removed.

The being was menacing even by Bruce's standards, an equine looming twenty feet tall or even higher, his height seemed to grow with every moment.  He was garbed in sackcloth and a beat up pointed had exactly like you would dress a scarecrow in.  A sickening blue smoke poured through every seam on his cloth.  And when he spoke he could feel his whole mind shake, "Mwhahaha, ah I can feel it.  We're so close now, the fears of the self assured are always the strongest.  Just a little bit more and we can-"

The titan scarecrow didn't get to finish it's sentence before a devastating beam of light stuck it with ferocity.  An even more authoritative voice spoke up demanding attention, "I've found you demon!  Return from whence you came and stop haunting the dreams of my subjects or face the wrath of the Princess of the Night!"

"Princess Luna!"  Bruce said excitedly, it had been some time since he's last seen his mentor.  To have her personally come to his aid was all the more heartening.  

"Ah my student, I did not realize the Tantabus had wandered into your dream.  Join me in fending it off will you?"  He hastened to her side and together sent out a devastating volley of mental projection blasts, a psychic self defense technique she'd taught him years ago.  Their combined strength was more than the beast was willing to put up with.  With a swipe of it's ethereal hoof it tore a hole in the very fabric of Bruce's dream and slithered out.

With the Tantabus in full retreat Luna was quickly on it's tail, "Make haste student!  Of whom did you dream tonight?"

"What?"

"When a pony dreams of another it creates a weak psychic connection between the two.  Once Tantabus is finished feeding in one dream he uses the links created by his victims to find a new target.  I need to know who you dreamt of so we can stop it before he grows too strong."  There was an urgency in her words matched with impatience.

"I only dreamt of the long dead and gone, as I always do."  Bruce said with sadness.

Luna halted her flight and came to Bruce's side, "You still cannot escape the memory of that terrible night?"

"No, I'm not sure I should."

"Student-  Bruce.  What happened when you were a child was beyond you're control, you need to set the events aside if you are to move on with you're life."

"And what about when I lost control?  Should I just set that aside as well?"  He didn't need to elaborate, she knew full well what he meant.

"*sigh*  No, you can never forget what happened just as I can not forget I nearly ended life in Equestria as we know it.  But torturing yourself with bad dreams to constantly remind ourselves is not a penance.  It only serves to harm yourself and stunt you're emotional growth as a pony.  A true penance is learning from the mistakes we all make and doing something constructive and beneficial with it.  I routinely seek out my subjects who's sleep is troubled and you have you're crusade."

Even now as a full grown stallion his mentor still stood high above him, yet it was comforting.  She even wrapped a wing around Bruce like a mother hen gathering her chicks into the safety and warmth of her breast.  "I-  Thank you Princess."

"Hush, the hunt continues, we can speak more in depth once Tantabus is subdued and returned to me."

"What do you mean returned to you?"

"That too we can discuss at length."  A glow emitted from the princesses' horn and an ornately carved oak door materialized.  "Come, we'll search the in-between realm for anypony having unnaturally bad dreams."

He was just about to depart when a thought occurred to him, "Now that I think about it I did go to sleep thinking about Silver Spoon.  Oh god, is that enough for that monster to get to her?"

"It very well may be, there's no time to waste!"  Luna ran through the open passage and Bruce followed.  The realm he was greeted by was mind boggling, seemingly endless rows of doors stretching out for infinity.

"Is this where you access ponies dreams from?"

"Indeed, though originally it was much more abstract, I've had plenty of time to forge it into something more comprehendable."  She was taking great pleasure in showing off her craftsmanship even though it didn't physically exist.  "This one is the door to your mate's dream, do you like the silver relief on the trim?  I like to personalize the doors of everypony I visit."

Bruce had to admit it was gorgeous, he was about to open the door to enter when Luna stopped him.  "Is something wrong?"

"Before you go, have you ever discussed with each-other what you dream about?"

"Well- no, that is it's never really come up.  Why?"

"No reason, just that you may wish to steady yourself for what you may see.  I find Silver Spoon's dreams to be ... never mind it, you'll understand soon enough."

"I'm sure whatever it is I can handle it."  Without hesitation Bruce opened up the door and stepped inside.  What he was greeted by quickly dashed his previous confidence.