Repeat

While Logan had been busy getting rid of his I'll gotten goods, Chance was really busy using his Zenith connections to try and piece together what had happened to the transport truck. So far all he had learned was whatever had cut a hole in the roof was made of keratin. The DNA had been mutated to an untraceable degree and, so far, the scientists assigned to this case were unable to break the samples down into something malleable. Chance had also contracted some of the countries best forensic accountants to find what had happened to the gold that was stolen. They were able to gather was the gold was re-smelted and wasn't distributed at any one location. They also noticed that gold sales had increased the past week at major cities country wide. Starting in Pennsylvania and making a C shape all through California and finally ending in Florida. Chance was in his office with a map of the pattern of sales. The fact that the robbery was in New York and last sale was in Miami led him to believe that whoever did this was based somewhere between the two. Now that the thief had an abundance of cash, they would need to launder it. Tattoo parlors, night clubs, barber shops, or custom garages were the most likely candidates. Chance would just have to wait until more clues came up.

"Cherries huh? Classy." Logan commented as he followed Kristin to the club she worked at.

"I like it daddy. It lets me practice for whenever I want to grind on your lap." Kristin happily commented as she led the way inside. Logan's nose was assaulted with different perfumes as he saw different ladies cleaning and rehearsing their dances. "Oh there's Mark. MARK!" Kristin called out.

Logan saw the greasy black horseshoe of hair on the back of the heavy set man as he turned to react to his name. Logan could only describe the larger man as a parody of a mob goon from a bad vice show. He had more chest hair than Logan had on his whole body. He also wore a gaudy golden necklace with a watch to match.

(Does this dude bathe in grease? Hopefully his attitude doesn't match his appearance.)

"Candy shut the fuck up and get that ass to cleaning. Then get dressed. Time is money and you waste too much fucking time." Mark barked before he started ordering more of his employees in varying degrees of vulgar and racist language.

*Looks like you can judge a book by its cover.*

"Sure thing Mark. Oh and I brought a friend to talk business." Kristin yelled back, completely unfazed with Mark's mannerisms.

"Whatever, just do what I tell you. You dumb broad. And you. Yeah you pal. Get over here I don't have all night to fuck around." Mark rambled on.

Logan felt the heat of rage starting to swell in his chest. *Not here, too many witnesses.* Fracture imparted. *I take nopleasure in being disrespected. But there is a time and place for everything.*

"Hi my name is Logan. Nice to meet you." Logan introduced himself offered Mark a handshake.

"Yeah pal, look I'm a busy man and nice is for broke people. Follow me." Mark said, ignoring Logan's hand as he walked towards his office.

Logan once again pushed his anger aside and followed the larger man to the bank office. Mark was already seated behind a desk covered in stained paperwork and mostly eaten snacks.

"Candy told me you had a business proposition for me. Sorry to burst your bubble kid, but you don't look like you could do much more than rub two quarters together."

"Well looks can deceive Mark." Logan replied shortly. "I want to buy your club."

Mark laughed at Logan. "Get the fuck out kid. I've got a thousand other problems from the bitches that flash their tits here."

"Mark I'm ser-" Logan pressed.

"I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT YOU DUMB SON OF A BITCH." Mark yelled, slamming his fists on the desk as he rose. "I don't give a fuck if your girlfriend works here. She isn't shit and you're not sh-." His speech quickly cut off as Logan slammed his hand against his neck. His eyes were wide from the sudden outburst, but then they almost seemed to pop out of his skull. He watched as, what he could only think was Logan's blood, rushed out of Logan's back and surround him. "Wha tha fuck are you?"

Logan brought his featureless face close to Mark's before opening his toothy maw in reply. "Taking your job." Logan willed a tendril of Fracture to rise from his forearm and with lightning quickness it **** it's way into Mark's open mouth. Normally Fracture would painlessly work it's way into a hosts nervous system but not this time. It took great pleasure setting each of Mark's nerve endings on fire.

Mark couldn't scream with the intruding mass in his mouth. He could only cry and twitch as foreign thoughts dominated his mind.

Logan walked out of the office as owner of Cherries. Mark finished his last night at work cleaning the office and leaving Logan a list of guidelines that would help him run the business. He left the club without a single word and left for an out of sight area that the voice in his head steered him to. Once there, he felt his skin crawling uncomfortably. It felt like a thousand spiders were crawling over him. Then it felt like they were all biting as he was covered in a thick crimson blanket. The voice said not to scream. So he didn't. It said not to struggle. So he didn't.

Soon there was nothing left of Mark. Nothing except a fat crimson slug that quickly slithered back to it's point of origin. Both Fracture and Logan had watched as Mark was consumed with more than a little malice in both their faces.