[b]An abandoned Youth Correctional Facility on the South Side of Gotham[/b]

	"Repeat it back to me," Trent said as he leaned forward from the back seat. His face emerged from the haze that sat like a stale cloud in the old Sedan. Chance was just cleaning off his FN Five-Seven, giving it another once over, because the first fifty checks weren't enough. As he holstered his piece his hands began to wander from the top of his body down to the bottom. Making sure that all of the lumps in his pockets, on his belt, and holstered were present before he pushed off. "Repeat what? Your normal sandwich order at Marty's?" this comment was accompanied with the driver of the sedan, Lisa, shaking her head and grinning. Trent restrained himself, [i]I should smack the fuck out of the kid but last thing I need is his abnormality grabbing my arm and breaking it.[/i] ,"No dumbass, the plan."

	The three amigos, of sorts, sat out front of where it all started for Chance, The Youth Correctional facility on the south side of the city. The facility was thankfully closed a few years back after a few of the employees pissed off the wrong side of Gotham's justice system. Talk had been spreading that not everything had been taken from the facility upon its "untimely" closing. So any pharmaceutical drugs that Chance could get his hands on would definitely help out the locals.

	"First things first, I go in that door right," finger tracing the front of the building until it met the double doors, "There." Trent gave his eyes the old 360 treatment and thought to himself, [i]Here we fucking go.[/i] "Then, this is where it gets good Lisa so pay attention," he mentioned as he gave a friendly tap on her shoulder. "Then I waltz back toward the lab area where all the crazy experiments happened." Giving a bit of jazz hands to accompany his speech. "That, if my memory serves me well, is the best spot to get in, snag the goods, and get back to the Martin house before dinner gets cold."

	Lisa began to notice that Trent was having enough of Chance's nonsense so she went to give him a punch on the arm. Mind you, Lisa was just recently introduced to driving for the Hoods, and thus this was the first time working with Chance. Without missing a beat, Chance's right arm clamped onto her wrist with his left arm in tow to secure her shoulder joint. In one swift motion his "medical enhancement" took over and pinned her shoulder to the steering wheel while the rest of her arm was held taut ready to snap. 

	[b]"Chance!"[/b] Trent had shouted gripping onto the seats in front of him. Chance's body had already tensed up in transition back to his normal state. Eyes trailed down to see the potential damage that had been done. As he inhaled he stared back at Trent with a nod. Lowering his mask and looking left and right for any cherry tops potentially in the area, Chance took off. 

	"What in the ever loving fuck was that about?!" Lisa exclaimed as she took solace in having both arms still attached to her body. Trent's eyes were trained on Chance as the kid slowly crept into the building through the double doors. "Apparently when you got hired on they left out a very important detail about our star child here. Don't ever, EEEEVVVER, make any rash movements toward him. See this facility here." Her eyes assessed the building as Trent continued on, "We could have hit a clinic, a corner store, anything else to try and grab these drugs. However, this right here was where they fucked that kid up. So on top of us getting what we want, he feels a tiny sense of justice stealing from these fucks." The young woman was still in a confused state but slowly understanding the situation. Even if all of this alleged mumbo jumbo was the cause of his attack was true she would still do well to just abide by that simple rule. "Now pull the car up to the corner of the building so we can get a good view of both ends of the street."

	[i]Poor fucking girl, why do I have to be such a freak?! Bunch of damn nutt jobs up in this place really did a number on me.[/i] Chance would think as he walked down the hallway flashlight first. All the needless memories raced back to his head from the days he spent locked up in this house of torture. Thankfully, it was run down, covered in dirt, decay and cobwebs. Finally, he found one of the old maps of the facility on the walls. "Let us see here, we have the room and board area, kitchen, there is some of the old lounges and boom," Chance's hand smacked the paper, "The lab."

	As if his hand hit a button setting off a trap door from an Indiana Jones movie, a loud thud could be heard down the hall accompanied by a series of squeaks as rats scampering off. Drawing his pistol slowly, he paired it up with his flashlight as he made his way toward the origin of the noise. [i]Ideally, I won't be using this on whoever might be down at the end of this hall. Last thing I need is to make unnecessary noise and set some loones on my buds outside. Hopefully, this will just scare the bastard.[/i]

	The trail of rats backtracked to a closet that sat barely open. He had dropped his flashlight about moments prior in hopes of masking his presence better. Eyes finally adjusting to the dark as the muzzle of his pistol sat right at the opening of the door. [i]Here we go,[/i] and in one swift motion he kicked the door open and pied his way into the room. The only assailant on this day was a lone broom stick that had been left propped against the door. This wooden bastard left it's resting place and made it's way straight for Chance dome. Body, taking over again in the most unnecessary of ways, lead his left arm to grab the broom and hurl it at the ground. With a growl of quick pain coursing through his body while his mind took back over he just shook his head as he turned to take off.

	Although he didn't fully turn away from the door. When Chance moved the flashlight back up to eye level it moved over something that glistened. Scanning the floor for where that came from he found one brave rat that hadn't left the scene yet. "You little chubby bi..." he couldn't bare to finish that sentence because a feeling of rage covered his body instantaneously. The rat was not a brave rat but a fat fucking scoundrel that was pigging out. The meal of choice? Little morsels of meat that still clung to a bony hand laying on the floor. Chance's mind shot straight to the only plausible thing that hand had once belonged too. "I'm going to kill them, everyone of them, if any still fucking reside within a ten mile radius of the city they are going to fucking die!"