Chapter 1 - A new contest, A new challenger.
After the events in the Twisted Metal: Black contest Sweet Tooth left Calypso for dead. However, Calypso did not die. After a few years Calypso finally remerged from hiding, this time he was planning on making the Twisted Metal contest more fun. Bigger, better and wilder.
A smiled crossed his lips, he had an idea. He was going to bring in new people. Six teems of them to be exact. He knew just who to bring. His eyes fell to a series of six folders on the desk in front of him. His smiled grew wider as he started to laugh.
The laughing soon brought about pain to Calypso. When Sweet Tooth cut his throat with that knife it had nearly severed his vocal cords. An underground doctor fixed it as best as he could but he told Calypso that he would not have long to live and that laughter or too much talking would only aggravate his poorly repaired vocal cords.
A young silver haired boy ran into the room which served as Calypso's planning room. The boy was at the old mans side in a matter of moments. From what Calypso could remember this young boy had been there for him ever since the Black contest. The boy claimed to be his son.
"Father, you know the doctor said no laughing or talking. You could die at any moment. Please, do not do that…" The boy helped his father up. As he looked around the room he saw pictures of cars loaded to the brim with weapons, cars shooting each other and always that same ice cream truck.
He knew his father hosted the Twisted Metal contest but he didn't know that it appeared like this. He looked at his hands. "Does chaos and destruction flow through my veins as well?" He thought to himself. After he came to he noticed his father was motioning for him to come closer, which he did.
"Super… Twisted… Smash… Metal…" Calypso said as his eyes closed and his chest stopped rising and falling.
Those four final words of his fathers made him smile. They also confirmed that he was just like his father after all. The prospect of hosting his own contest truly made him glad to be alive.
Though he was his father and he did deserve some sort of respect for the contest he made the boy dropped him onto the ground and picked up the six folders on the table and headed out of the room. His eyes not even looking at his now dead father. "All things in their own time…" He said softly as he closed the door behind him shutting his father inside.
As he walked down the hall his smile grew. "My fathers contests were just a pointless blood bath. All used to further his sick twisted mind. Everyone in one fight, that is not how it should be. You lower the amount of rounds. The less rounds the less bloodshed to be seen." He kept walking looking straight ahead. Not mine though. Mine shall be better, mine shall be a bracket style. Two go in per round, one comes out."
A figure appeared beside the young boy as he walked down the hall. "Sir, we heard of your fathers death, Shall we remove him?" asked the figure.
"No, I want you to find me the six best people who competed in past Twisted Metals. I am going to start a new one. A new bread of Twisted Metal. One that will surpass my fathers in every way!" With that the boy burst into a fit of evil laughter.
The figure nodded as it disappeared into the shadows. It knew that the boys contest would not even come close to that of Calypso's contests. However, he was in service to the boys family so he held his tongue.
A few hours later the figure appeared to the boy again. However, this time the boy was in a room much like that of his late fathers but without the pictures of past Twisted Metal contests. In the middle of the room there stood a large oak desk and a black high backed armchair. On the wall in front of the desk was the a bracket styled lay out the first round featured twelve spots reserved for the pictures of the people who were competing. Six sets of pictures were already up.
Though he had not got to the people that had their pictures up The boy knew they would accept. After all, who could resist one wish for anything they wanted. The figure cleared its throat to announce its presence. The boy turned his chair around and looked at the figure. "Yes, do you have what I want?" He asked softly.
"I do Sir. Here you go, the six best people. The clown is among them of course." With that the figure handed the boy the newest six folders and disappeared into the shadows again.
With a smile the boy opened the folders The first a man wearing a clown mask and pants his head ablaze with fire. The second folder had a man wearing a skull covering his face. Third was a little boy with what appeared to be a dead man sitting beside him. Forth featured a person wearing a black body suit and a broken china doll mask. Fifth was a man that wore a pair of silver glasses and a black hat through the glasses you could see a pair of blood red eyes. And lastly the sixth was a horribly disfigured man with black hair.
"Good, good, Twelve people all lined up. Now the fun shall start." With that the boy placed the pictures up on the wall in the six remaining spaces. He slowly turned away from the wall and exited the room. Now that he knew who would be in his contest he had to go invite them to join.