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[b]Wading Way
The Olive Garden[/b]

As the limosine pulled up outside the unsuspecting alleyway, Jackie glanced down towards the pendant of Jenny and closed his eyes, muttering something between a prayer and an apology on her behalf. It felt like an age before he finally brought himself to pocket the the pendant and step outside of the discreet cover which the limosine had provided, throwing a nod to the driver and taking a few quiet steps towards the alleyway and under the cover of darkness. Right here, right now - he could feel it. That excitement which the darkness always seemed to endow upon him on a night of killing such as this. Unsurprisingly, neither of Jimmy's guys had shown up as he'd initially offered; Jackie had sent them away and opted to handle the matter himself. After all, despite having taken out that rat bastard Uncle Paulie, a lot of people were still afraid of him. Afraid of what they'd heard, or caught glimpses of. And he couldn't have guaranteed their safety if they'd come along, either - the darkness had already taken Jenny from him, why would he allow it another opportunity to harm those close to him?

At the far end of the alleyway was a rusted old fire exit overhung by a crooked lamp which seemed to flicker constantly, but with a simple thought he spotted a tiny, imp-like creature skuttling out from behind a nearby dumpster and quickly grabbing a nearby brick, before tossing it at the bulb in order to smash it. With a grin which could've made a hardened veteran shudder, it turned towards Jackie with a set of dim, glowing eyes and gave him the thumbs up, before scuttling up towards the wall and scaling upwards as if it had changed the direction of gravity. Meanwhile, Jackie slowly approached the fire exit and after a quick grunt, he planted a boot against the door and kicked it open as if it were made of cardboard.

[b]"Holy fucking shi-"[/b]

Without even bothering to listen to the surprised curses of the startled mobsters inside, Jackie quickly drew a hand down towards his holster and quickly withdrew a pistol, silencing the man mid-sentence before diving into the kitchen behind a set of stainless steel shelves as the bullets began to fly. Sure as anything, he timed his shots carefully, firing potshots at his attackers to goad them into taking cover, before waiting for them to pop back out so he could take a carefully aimed shot at their domes. Suddenly, a round tore through his sleeve and took a small bite at his arm, prompting him to let out a curse as he glanced up towards the ceiling, muttering to himself.

[b]"C'mon, c'mon..."[/b]

And with that, his prayers were answered; a faint electrical sizzle popped across the room and the lights quickly dimmed, before fading out altogether - the handiwork of the darkling, which could've have come at a better time. Inside, he could feel that familiar, black voice chuckling as it spoke directly to him, as it always did.

[i]"You like the blood, don't you?"[/i]

The next moment was something of a blur; he felt the black tendrils seeping out from behind him as its essence filled the room, the frightened mobsters letting out frantic curses or pleas to their beloved ones for mercy as he tore through them all. One of his 'snakes', the one to his left flank, quickly dug into one man's ribcage and tore out his heart before the other one, it's 'brother', tried to snatch it away, only for more hearts to become available for either one of them. Almost as quickly as it had begun, the fighting was over - the bloodbath had come. Having cleared out the kitchen and the dining area of the restaurant-bar of soldiers and enforcers, it seemed that his target lay in waiting upstairs - one Vincent Ricarci - one of Uncle Paulie's few remaining Lieutenants who'd laid claim to a sizely portion of territory and had become a problem in the eyes of the Chicago People. 'Chef Vinnie' as he liked to call himself, was said to have earned his nickname after Uncle Paulie had him murder the wife of a man believed to be a problem in Paulie's eyes, before feeding the wife's remains to the man in the form of a soup dish served to him at this very restaurant. Jackie never actually found out if it was a true story, but it didn't matter now - the only soup here tonight were the turned-out innards of the mobsters he'd just torn apart.

[b]"Estacado, you fucking rat! You think you can muscle in on -my- turf just because you iced Uncle Paulie?!"[/b]

He could hear Chef Vinnie's screaming as he ascended the steps, though the man had failed to acquire the same level of intimidation or malice that Paulie had always held in his voice. Rounding the corner, he spotted the labelled boiler room which he easily knew to be the location of Chef Vinnie's final stand, yet what met him when he gave the door a boot was able to throw him off guard.

[b]"Try that demon shit now, you fucking prick!"[/b]

[i]"No, no no..... worthless puppet!"[/i]

Before he could react, Jackie spotted Chef Vinnie - sweating like a pig in all his miserable glory - with a lighter in one hand and what looked to be a torn away gas pipe in the other, with the thickening smell of gas spreading across the room. He knew damn well what the guy was about to do, even if it meant cooking himself in the process - and so did the darkness.

[b]"Burn in hell, Estacado!"[/b]

Spinning on his heel, Jackie made a sudden dash for the nearest window as he spotted the flicker of light behind him and the faint lick of flames growing ever closer and closer. Just as he was about to reach the glass and dive through, the sudden force of the explosion ejected him through anyways. Of course, his fall was broken by an SUV - which incidentally had its entire roof caved in by the force of Jackie weighing upon it, and the last thing he recalled was the sight of a familiar beloved walking towards him, urging him to wake up before he finally blacked out.

[i]"The host will not die...."[/i]