A/N: I do not own anything that already exists in the Twisted Metal Black universe as that belongs to the original creators as well as whatever else group the rights belong to with the exception of my own ideas and the like. TLDR: no sue plz
Chapter 1: Go Fish
It was but another day at the asylum. The blaring sound of an old classical song filled the halls as a security guard played some cards with their fellow colleague in what was a secure room designed to monitor the patients throughout the complex. There was also a nearby passageway locked off by a pair of doors that needed to be remotely activated as a means of entering and exiting, although things were relatively quiet for the time being so not much happened at this hour.
The two inside the checkpoint were both silent as their little game of cards progressed in peace until one finally spoke.
"Go fish."
"Bullshit. That many in your hand and you say that?"
"Sorry to bust your balls but it's the truth, I got nothin'."
Before the other man could argue, a collective group of both scrubs and security officers arrived at the gate with a young man strapped to a vertical stretcher. One of their members looked over at the two and waved a hand for them to open up the entrance for smooth passage, whatever they had to say was muffled by a large yet bulky looking window that separated both parties.
"Open up! Got a new patient who needs a room!"
From where they sat, the new guy looked a little bit rough around the edges judging from the minor scars on his face. He wore a blue-white baseball tee and weathered skinny jeans that had seen better days, topped off by a pair of grey running shoes that had a red accent highlighted on the sides.
The agitated guard in the security room rose up from his seat to hit a red button that opened up the way, allowing the transport team to move on through and down the hall. He then returned to the table where his more relaxed counterpart set all the cards in his hand face down, almost seeming pensive in expression as the man watched the now distant group make their way around a corner.
"Did you hear about our latest addition? Came up in the news after the kinda shit he pulled on his family."
The former raised a brow, wondering why his co-worker seemed interested in one of many folks who were sent here in the past few weeks. It was common knowledge that Midtown happened to have many who were criminally (and clinically) insane, the newspaper headlines made especially sure to highlight the horrors this city had to offer after all.
"Don't care, got enough problems already for me to be worrying about some bastard who has issues with their parents." He said, recalling an unfaithful wife at home and a distant child who didn't connect with him.
The other man shrugged, not finding much else to say as he grabbed a file off a nearby table and passed it over to his fellow worker.
"At least read the file on him so you don't piss him off by accident and get stabbed in the eye like Joe did the other day." He said with a scoff.
"Joe was a sad excuse for a man trying to get along with the freaks here, I'm not gonna make the same mistakes as he did."
"Suuurre you won't. Just read the damn thing so we can get back to dealing cards."
With great reluctance, the file on the latest patient was taken for a quick review on what the professionals here slapped on the sheet with whatever labels they could scry from the poor sucker who got sent here. The man had no interest in doing so but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry in case this new guy went wacko on him for something that might as well be trivial like a single scratch on the walls.
Blackfield Asylum
Patient Profile
Vincent Monroe
UNPREDICTABLE
Age: 19
Disorder: *Pending Review / Caution advised*
Treatment: Psychotherapy, Hypnosis, anti-psychotic meds
Appearance
Hair color: Black
Eye Color: Grey
Race: Caucasian
Ethnicity: White
Height: 5'9
Weight: 172 lbs
