Twisted Metal: Black

The diaries

Entry One: Sweet Tooth and Mr. Grimm

Needles Kane: Sweet Tooth

I'd been told he was having a tantrum in his cell again. So I went down and expected to see him writhing on the floor like he usually does. Instead, he was across the cell, facing away from me and leaning against the wall as if his head wasn't on fire.

"Needles?" I ventured quietly. The clown whipped around and flew at the door so fast I was close enough to his masked face to the point where I could feel his rapid breathing before I even knew what happened. He sat there for a moment, shivering, before suddenly slamming his fists into the door. I hate it when he does that. It's so ungodly loud and I'm worried he might damage the door enough to where he could break it off one day. He's been here for close to three months and already I can start to see dents.

"Doctor." He said in his deceptively soothing deep voice.

"I know you must have some kind of medicine that can fix this...this headache." He continued.

"We've tried this already, Mr. Kane. Last time we tried to administer tranquilizers we had to get all the security here to hold the door closed. I'm not going to bother trying again..." Sweet Tooth, as he'd been nicknamed, stood there quietly, the flames on his head flickering with a dazzling fluidity. Apparently, he had to decide whether he was going to go into a fit or try to reason with me a bit longer.

WHAM!

He hit the fucking door again. Then he turned around and went back to the other end of the cell, resuming his stance of leaning on the wall.

"Needles."

Nothing.

"Mr. Kane."

He merely shook his head. I gave up. He seemed docile once more and obviously wasn't in the mood for a nice chat. I closed the small slit of a window the door has and went back to my office.

I'm gonna get out of here some day. And let me tell you, boys and girls, once I'm out nobody is going to be safe. It's ridiculous being in here. There were so many people I hadn't killed! Well, things would change eventually. I knew it. They couldn't keep me in here for long. I've tried setting the walls on fire with my head, but it's no use. They must have fire-proofed my cell before I went in.

I think you know why I'm in here. I went on a killing spree for a certain period of time...I can't recall just how long. Why? Try setting your head on fire and then counting up days. It's...difficult. But the toll went over the hundreds mark.

("No! Please! Let me go!"

"Fucking die, you piece of shit!")

Yes, it had been a good time while it lasted. But it was over...

for now.

"Open the god damn door."

He was at it again. I really hate being the main guard for his cell.

"Open, you fucking pig!" Needles screamed. The metal door gave his voice a bouncy quality.

"I can't open the door, Mr. Kane. They don't even give the guards to your cell a key."

"You mean...they don't trust people with me?" He asked mockingly.

"Why would they you freakin' psycho?"

"Well, Marty...go and find me a key."

"Give it a rest, wouldya?" Hopefully he'd give up here. Sometimes he pushed it further.

"Marty...I'd hate to have to kill you when I get out."

"Bull shit."

"You're right. I would savor every second."

"Good thing you're never getting out."

WHAM!

"OPEN MY FUCKING DOOR!!" It appeared he wasn't giving up easily this time.

"Keep poundin' on that door hard enough...and...well...one day I'll have to shoot ya."

Mr. Grimm

Charlie. Vietnam. War. Things I link with my fall to insanity. The thing I hold most responsible, however, is what happened to Benny. The subsequent problem that arose really takes it outta your mental health.

I had to eat him. He'd been shot, and we were thrown into some stinking hole. It must've been twenty-five feet deep. A military advisor there for the Vietnamese told me the only way I could survive was to eat, and he threw down a machete.

Afterwards, I felt like a horrible person. Not to mention a bad soldier, but I wanted him to know he would be remembered. So I took his skull and put it on, a constant reminder to me of what had happened to my friend. The moment I truly snapped all the way was when the marines that found me tried to take the helmet off. I killed four of them before being knocked out.

"Hey, Doc."

"And how are we today?" I didn't feel this was a very good question.

"How do you think?"

"Same old, same old, eh?"

"Listen, Doc. I need some kind of stronger medicine...for my visions. I can barely eat anymore."

"Well any more and you might overdose."

"I don't fucking care! I am starving, man! I need to eat! REAL FOOD!"

"Now please, calm down." He looked me in the eyes as he said this. He looked me in the fucking eyes. I could see right through him, then. He thought I was crazy. This doctor here thinks I'm some kind of inhuman beast because I was forced to cannibalism. He would've done the same thing. Anybody would have done the same thing. You have to eat to survive. I hadn't eaten in over five days. Five. Days.

"Listen closely, friend. I hadn't eaten in five days. I was starving to death! Don't try to tell me I'm some kind of monster!"

"I'm not saying that at all!" He looked away when he said this one. The doctor was lying.

"You little bastard! I'LL EAT YOUR FUCKING FACE! STOP FEEDING ME PEOPLE!"

A/N: So, as you can see this is part humor and part serious. I love how dark this game is but I also think it's pretty spoofable. Characters I really like (Sweet Tooth, for example) will stay mostly in character. But I may spoof some of them. The next chapter might be up really soon, or it might not. Each part will have a character or two, it might have three at the most. I might go through and give them multiple parts as well. For sure I'm going to put Sweet Tooth in another part eventually. wink ;)