Chapter 9: Cutting Corners

"So you're telling me Stone broke out of that nuthouse and took a big chunk of our finest to avenge just one of our own?"

"That's correct sir." Jaime responded with a slight edge to his tone.

He looked a little worse for wear, but thankfully the officer managed to catch the Chief before he was due for a public speech with the press regarding the unsanctioned tournament taking place in Midtown. Jaime sat in his office, with the man in question sitting behind a desk that had a gold plaque that read "Shepard" facing Jaime on the opposite side. The well-respected officer had managed to return to the precinct and relay much of what happened, although some of the details regarding his involvement were obfuscated for the sake of protecting his own status.

The Chief of police sighed and furrowed his brow. From where Jaime was positioned, he could see the years of stress distinctly marked on Shepard's face. It was only a brief moment that he saw a surge of anger flare up from his superior, an arm quickly swept everything off the desk and down onto the floor.

"FUCK! Now we're really up shit's creek without a goddamn paddle, the press is gonna have a field day with this one.." Shepard grimly spat out as a hand swept along the side of his head, as if trying to soothe the headache this troubling development has brought him.

"We do have a lead that may help us stop Calypso thanks to him, the driver he was after seems to be a kid no older than 19. No previous criminal affiliations or anything of the sort, plus if I may add sir, the case that involved his family reeks to high hell."

"Jaime, I understand where you're going with this, but your report on what went down with Stone paints a different story. Why should we care about some kid who went on a rampage in the suburbs?"

Jaime thought back to recent events that had happened not too long ago. He remembered seeing the suspect upon arriving with Stone's entourage; the boy looked ordinary and didn't necessarily display any open hostility until the resulting battle was triggered by the unknown driver of the green muscle car. The officer also knew a bit about the murder that involved Vincent; statement reports painted a picture of someone who did their best in life and kept away from any negative influences. Even Vincent claimed innocence in the matter, according to what the multiple interrogations documented. Jaime believed that perhaps this was someone who was falsely accused and that a chance at redemption could do more good than harm. All he needed to do was get in close and learn a little bit more about the kid who seemed to be quite the menace behind the wheel. At least, that's what the live broadcasts of the competition showed.

The officer shook his head. This was the key Midtown PD had been waiting for all this time, they could have a real chance at taking out Calypso if things went according to plan.

"With all due respect sir, this young man cleared out multiple squads of modified police cars and doesn't share the common attributes that a murderer would have. His behavior isn't consistent with that of a madman who would kill anyone and everyone, we could turn him and gain a valuable ally to our cause." Jaime said, feeling self-assured in his assessment.

Shepard sized him up for a moment as he processed his subordinate's words. Before long, he sat back into his chair and stared at Jaime with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Alright, Officer Jaime, if you believe this operation can do more good than harm, then I'll get some people to bring something out from the impound lot and get the paperwork done. But remember: You're going in alone, and there won't be any backup to help you out. Your records will be kept confidential, and you'll be treated like a damn ghost until this intervention of yours produces some results. Don't let me down."

Level 3: Midtown Downtown

"It's been a while since I've visited this area, here's hoping the local Midtown's Burgers joint around here doesn't get blown to smithereens." - Vincent

A feed popped up featuring an overhead view of the battle that was currently ongoing in the Downtown arena, with only a select few contestants left. There were other helicopters on the scene, but this one had been grabbing live footage of the event.

"HEEELLLOO Ladies and Gentlemen! The name's Talon and I'm here to give you the play-by-play in this year's Twisted Metal here on TM Live! We're down to three contestants left on our Downtown stage. If you haven't been around here long, then go ahead and rewind to the beginning of our stream to enjoy the brutal carnage!"

A series of promotional pop-ups flashed on the screen before fading away to reveal a certain orange muscle car down on the ground below.

"Here we have Death Warrant, who has been narrowly snagging victories left and right by leaving the competition in ruins! A total newcomer by no stretch of the imagination, they've managed to surprise many audience members here today with the sheer destruction they cause!"

Death Warrant sped through the streets as a series of missiles trailed behind it. The vehicle pulled into a busy avenue to veer off from the threat that loomed not too far behind. The hostile swarm crashed into a nearby cafe located within the inside line of the turn. The resulting explosion took out several people who were hanging around the front of the building. It almost killed a majority of them instantly, aside from a scant few who were sent flying either inside or out onto the street. For those who were in the latter, their lives would be cut short by an ambulance quickly following behind the muscle car without regard for the poor civilians in the middle of the road. Ordinarily, it would be a pleasant sight to see that help was already on the scene, but this was no ordinary ambulance. It was a 1959 Cadillac Miller-Meteor that was armed and armored for the bloody mess that the battle here in downtown was already turning into.

"OUCH! What an unlucky bunch of people who were just dying to become roadkill! It looks like Meat Wagon is on the scene and wants to rumble with the star of this year's event! But wait, I think I spot another foe Death Warrant has to deal with!" The announcer exclaimed. He was definitely getting a thrill from seeing everything up so high.

The road in front of Death Warrant featured another obstacle that posed a different challenge. A huge green monster truck barreled down the street towards the diminutive muscle car, trampling and crushing various cars in traffic under its huge tires.

There was a narrowing gap between the two, which left little time to react. Thankfully, Death Warrant yanked around to the corner of the road and allowed the monster truck to pass before the handbrake was engaged to allow the muscle car to enter a very tight drift. This maneuver repositioned it behind the opponent in question before a third chaingun popped out from its hood and quickly spun up to speed before unleashing a special attack in conjunction with the two other guns.

A steady stream of large-caliber rounds peppered the monster truck's tires and chipped away at the rubber fast enough to allow the back end of the vehicle to sink closer to the ground. This indicated that the damage was well and truly done to the mobility of the large machine. Its attempts to evade the assault only caused the monster truck to spin the back end around and lose control, crashing through a building off the side of the road.

"Would you look at that? Even Hammerhead, a promising contender who's been crushing it in these past few stages, has been knocked out of commission! I know some fans might be disappointed that they didn't go out with a bang, but look!"

Before Death Warrant could finish off the weakened opponent, a gurney carrying what appeared to be a body collided into it from behind, suddenly erupting into a moderately sized explosion with odd bloody chunks being scattered around from the source itself. This sent the car flying momentarily as it soared further along the street until it touched down and came to a stop.

"Yikes, Meat Wagon definitely isn't breaking away anytime soon! I guess you could say they really want a piece of the action from good ol' DW!"

Things were definitely heating up, enrapturing each and every interested viewer in the contents of the match as the live broadcast continued. The remaining two were now in a game of cat and mouse, with both cars driving around rearming themselves, only to trade blows that created new routes from the resulting clashes here and there. Little did anyone know, the real spectacle wouldn't come until now.

After a nasty blow that almost rendered Death Warrant inoperable, the battered muscle car found itself near an aqueduct out in the open area of the arena. The familiar ambulance known as Meat Wagon slowly approached from a distance to deliver the finishing blow, but something unexpected occurred.

"It seems DW is up to something, but what exactly is he planning?"

The camera zooms in to reveal the driver who was currently busy dragging themselves out of the side window with something in their hand. It isn't clear until he points it at the opposing vehicle.

"HOLY SHIT! This guy is taking a shot from almost 100 yards or so with a revolver. That's a pretty risky strategy he's trying in front of someone who can end this fight the moment that trigger gets pulled. Don't blink, viewers, because this is it!"

Vincent didn't expect to be on the losing side of the battle, yet the situation demanded something unorthodox after taking one too many hits that threatened the integrity of his prized vehicle. The good doctor made the right call in warning him, but the truth behind his words meant that his assistant - and perhaps others in the following matches to come - would prove themselves to be quite the challenge indeed.

Was this a stupid idea? Yes. However there were hardly any weapons scattered on the field that could be easily reached before the anvil of death came crashing down upon them. Whoever this mystery person was had scrounged up everything else while he had to make do with the scraps that remained.

Vincent lined up the sight of the gun to his eye before slowly stretching the weapon towards the target in a dire one-handed grip, not the best of forms when making such a critical shot but he dismissed such notions for now as time began to slow down in what felt like a state of hyperfocus.

This had to count. A single stray round meant he would be obliterated in a barrage of bullets or worse, another "patient" sent flying his way to blow up everyone to kingdom come.

In the dilated space of what felt like mere split seconds, he pulled the trigger, causing the gun to erupt with the telltale sound of a shot that moved at a snail's pace. It was then that Vincent felt more like a passenger in his body, as if this was something he were watching rather than doing. Before this, he would hardly be cognisant enough to even know what he was up to. And now that itself has changed into something different. Perhaps the acclimation to such experiences allowed him to function better with the purpose for which he fought? Or that this desperation allowed for some clarity in the act itself? These questions faded just as fast as his sense of time quickly faded back to normal. The round he fired broke through the front windshield of Meat Wagon, allowing an uncertain silence to fill the air, save for the quiet mechanical rumbling of his vehicle.

.

.

.

.

Was it over? Vincent couldn't tell. His arm now hung at his side as he eyed the distant ambulance. There was also a helicopter hovering nearby, likely a news team looking to get better coverage of what had just taken place. Even Connie was deathly silent, hardly making a peep in the moments leading up to this, which Vincent understood all too well.

It wasn't until a loud booming voice from the helicopter that gave him a loud confirmation just as much as it spooked him.

"CONGRATULATIONS!! YOU'VE DEFEATED ALL THE OTHER CONTESTANTS IN OUR DOWNTOWN STAGE! PLEASE FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS LISTED IN YOUR VEHICLE'S ONBOARD DISPLAY!!"

With a sigh of relief, Vincent let the upper half of his body settle on the roof of Death Warrant. Finally, he could relax after the shitshow that was today.

"Did you hear that, Con? We did it! Holy hell..." He said with a wry smile. Though the young man knew this would only be temporary, it was still a damn fine victory to be celebrating.

"Believe me, Vince, my heart was beating over a hundred miles per hour," Connie weakly responded from within the cabin, almost feeling as if the ordeal gave her a few new strands of grey hair.

With the car left at a local mechanic shop, Vincent had the free time to mull about while he left Connie to her own devices. She wanted to stick around to make some modifications while he had plans to meet up with Dollface, so things worked out for the most part, aside from some teasing on her end.

Downtown was a mess, but thankfully, the fast food place Midtown's Burgers was still standing. He managed to "borrow" some cash from some of the other eliminated contestants who weren't totally left in a wreck that consumed their wallets. The only one he didn't bother to check was Meat Wagon, for fear of seeing what his own handiwork did, as such things were better left alone. It wasn't a pretty thing to be looting dead bodies yet this had to be done for the sake of getting something good to eat.

Regardless, this was a well-earned break he needed, and a lack of cash wasn't going to stop him. As Vincent entered the place, he could tell one or two people looked at him with some recognition in their faces. It wasn't until a kid ran up to him with something in hand that the driver realized why he appeared familiar to the other guests in the establishment.

"Oh my gosh! You're the guy who was on TV with that awesome car, could you sign this for me, please?" The boy exclaimed, presenting Vincent with a rather stylized picture of Death Warrant as well as a pen for him to use.

..Right. I forgot Calypso was raking in all the damn views with my "amazing" performance out there, guess I'll give the kid what he wants.

It was difficult to remain upset as Vincent inscribed his signature on the photo provided. Being famous is one thing, but getting asked for your autograph is something else entirely. Not that he cared much for it; he preferred to keep to himself rather than be in the public eye. With a wave, he dismissed the kid and kept moving. He ordered a quick meal to-go that comprised a Double Bacon Burger, large fries, chicken nuggets, and a large soda.

Not long after, the young man took up a spot out in front of the building where there were a few tables he could sit at. It was almost the perfect place to admire the smoking mess that was the heart of Midtown. Vincent almost felt indifferent towards the state of the city; the damage had already been done, and he couldn't be bothered to worry about the problems of so many other people. There was a time when he cared to be involved in the affairs of others, even if only because he was along for the ride. Old memories slowly made their way into the forefront of his thoughts and took him down another jaunt to the past...

Midtown High. It was a school full of teens who fell in line with their own cliques. If not to be with a group of like-minded people, then it was probably to avoid getting hounded by the shitty teachers there who all had their own faults.

Fortunately for Vincent, he made some friends with the Jocks thanks to his mechanical knowledge, which he applied in tuning up their cars and/or trucks. As well as the Nerds, who, while despising the fact that he was friends with the opposing group, were happy to have him serve as the intermediary party so that the lumbering fools would go and bother other people instead.

It was lunchtime, which meant the indoor court/cafeteria was full at this hour. Vincent had been chatting up a crowd he never really hung around with before. They were a bunch of gothic-looking individuals who weren't particularly fond of the outsider "trying" to make friends with them. Though this was a genuine effort, there was also another reason why..

The conversation was quickly wrapped up as he bid whoever he was talking to farewell before making his way to one of the jocks he recognized. The guy was motioning Vincent to come over with a dumb grin on his face before finally pulling him into a hallway and revealing an odd-looking book from under his letterman jacket.

"Hahaha! Those stupid goths are going to be so pissed when they realize their precious junk is missing. Good job on distracting those chumps, Vince!"

"Frank, you guys owe me a solid. So, what's this book you guys snatched?" Vincent asked, glancing at the item of interest Frank had on his person.

The jock, Frank, looked at the cover for a bit before suddenly spotting a barely legible word that was etched into it.

"Necro... Nomicon? What the fuck is this shit anyway? Dumbass witches and their creepy bullshit."

Vincent had heard about this from somewhere; the nerds mentioned it during one of the public DnD games they hosted during lunchtime. It's a fictional book that details forbidden knowledge in necromancy. Although he wasn't superstitious by any means, it never hurt to keep the mythical elements around him appeased in some sense.

"You can say that again. Maybe they'll pay a good bit of cash for it. Who's the chick who leads them again?"

"Oh, you mean Kelly? Ah, man, I bet she'd be desperate enough to do some pretty wild things to get this book back, eh?" Frank said with a sly smile. The implications were there, but Vincent felt uncomfortable towards a suggestion like that.

"You're a bold guy, Frank. As interesting as that sounds, Mike'll beat your ass for it if he catches wind of that. Try playing it smooth and see where it goes from there. You never know if those chicks are freaky in all the right kinds of ways."

It was merely a suggestion, but based on the look Frank had, the idea seemed to sell well in his head, judging by the giddy expression on his face. He didn't need to overhype it or do much else, so long as it gave the impression there was something to chase after.

Without another word, Frank sped off to do whatever he planned on doing, which gave Vincent some much needed peace and quiet. There was a sense of serenity that came from such isolation. No expectations, no parents constantly arguing, only a total removal from the world around him.

Unfortunately, Vincent was sucked back into the moment once he heard someone clear their throat next to him. He didn't even realize that he'd been leaning against a locker with his eyes closed this entire time. When he turned to look at where the sound came from, there were a pair of girls standing in front of him. Both of whom wore dark clothing which marked them as likely members of the goth group, they also weren't happy to see him for some reason.

"Uh, yes? Can I help you?" Vincent asked, somewhat worried that he had already been caught on the scheme he had been a part of.

One of them stepped forth; she had white hair that was styled in a bob cut, which made her look like some kind of punk rock idol. If the mood wasn't tense right now, he would have passed on a compliment to her before the opportunity slipped by.

"Your name is Vincent, right? I'm just here to ask if you've seen something that belongs to us. My name is Kelly, by the way."

"That would be me, yeah. What's the deal here?"

"Weeell, we're missing a certain book that's very important. You were last seen talking to our group not too long ago before it suddenly vanished. So, do you know anything or..?"

Vincent shrugged, making himself look aloof as best he could as he came up with a fast response. A part of him was surprised that they had figured it out this fast, maybe there was something to those rumors surrounding the goths.

"If you're thinking I did it then you're wrong. I don't steal, I've got my grades to worry about. Why not talk to Mike about this? You guys do tend to be picked on by those dudes from the football team, at least according to what I hear."

Kelly glanced over at her friend with an expression Vincent couldn't really make out. The other girl looked like a total contrast to the first. She had long black hair that flowed in a wavy pattern, wore a black leathery dress, and had doubt written all over her face.

"You hang out with those idiots pretty often. Maybe you're up to something with them hm?" The dark haired girl questioned, of course she wasn't making this easy for him to get out of.

"What would I gain then huh? Some 'cool' points from a bunch of goofballs that have nothing better to do? Come on, just because ritual circles interest me doesn't mean I'm gonna pull the rug over you guys."

"We'll see."

She nodded at Kelly before heading back towards the cafeteria area, easing some of the pressure he felt from the situation. Once she was gone, Kelly shook her head with a more relaxed expression on her face.

"Don't mind Raven, she believes outsiders are nothing but trouble. Just be careful of the kind of friends you keep around, we aren't as stupid as you think." Kelly warned him, crossing both arms as she stared.

"Trust me, I don't think I want the girl who looks like she'd be the badass lead of a heavy metal band to be pissed off at me. I dig the whole Hex Girl style, believe it or not." Vincent casually admitted. Though it was directed to Raven, Kelly seemed to believe it was the other way around.

"Oh uh.. Thanks I guess." She idly remarked before letting the conversation fall into a lull.

The silence was almost deafening for a while until Vincent took the lead in an effort to extricate himself from the interaction.

"...Maybe you should check up on your friend?"

"Right! I'll see you around Vincent, later."

'What an awkward bunch.' He thought to himself before getting ready for his next class.

If someone told Vincent he would be here today, he'd have laughed in their face and probably called them crazy too. Maybe he was the crazy one instead? Being normal and living a simple life felt so distant now. Could such a thing be attained with all the blood he now had on his hands?

"Hm... Just realized I never got to graduate. Ah well, I'll get a GED or something." He mused to himself, if he wanted to pursue his dreams of being a skilled mechanic then that would definitely be a good place to start.

It was then that he saw a familiar vehicle arrive at the fast food place; it was the black semi from the junkyard, which now looked a little worse for wear with some signs of recent battle scars. Though Vincent didn't want to admit it, he knew for sure Dollface had been undergoing a few trials of her own.

Could she be trusted to not be sent after him, like the lawman was? Based on the previous observation, there was a strong chance that Calypso had been busy pulling a large number of strings to keep the fighting going, even if it concluded in just one area. Vincent felt uncertain, only resigning to whatever scraps of normalcy that the young man tried to salvage from this revelation as he saw her exit from the vehicle not too far off.