He's goin' ********' nutso.
Man, if only the truth were as easy as that. If only he could dismiss all this s**t as hallucinations, something from stress or drugs. He isn't some p***y; there's a lot he's seen from being in the Family, and a lot wasn't pretty. All the gore, all the screaming - it hadn't fazed him. Not in the least.
The Darkness... Now that's something else entirely.
Before, he could just shut off his emotions, the alarm and terror which had taken him over the first time It had manifested in that shitty little bathroom. New York City - what a great place for breeding apathy. Besides, he's good at that, shutting down. Handy trait for a hitman to have, just like the Darkness had been a handy thing for a guy against Paulie to have.
'Had been'. Past tense. He's far from sure, now. ********, he's so far from being sure about anything right now, he might as well be in the middle of ******** space.
In what feels like deep underground, Jackie crouches down and buries his face in his hands. Breathing deep, he tries to focus himself. He'd try to block out the Darkness' voice, but that never works. Okay, okay... When s**t gets confusing, you just have to recap. Figure it all out. So that's what he'll do.
Those bastards... Paulie and his head police b***h Shrote had kidnapped Jenny, taken her to Saint Mary's Orphanage. Their orphanage. The one the two of them had grown up in. He'd followed them, had meant to save her and get her the ******** out of this rotten piece of s**t city. So close... Jackie digs his nails into his hair. He'd been so damn close, just two doors away...
He remembers the event too vividly, worst then his shitty life and worst than any nightmare. He remembers the crushing pressure of the Darkness keeping him in place, the ugly shine of the gun pressed against Jenny's head, the tears on her face... and the shot which blew her life right through her temple.
The memory of that same killing gun pressing into his mouth by his own hand and the terrified rage of the Darkness' screaming is especially sharp.
So yeah. He should be dead. Christ Almighty, he wishes he was dead.
Instead, he's in this Godforsaken place, like he was dropped right into the middle of World War II. Trenches filled with those ******** up zombie Nazis, the Brits with all the scars and stitches, the twisted creatures who the Darkness had whispered the names of... And his great-great grandpop who had claimed he'd been the one to introduce the Darkness into the Estacado family.
And now he's off to a place called the Hills to get a pair of pieces to help him control the Darkness.
Like he said. If only he was going ********' nuts.
Poor Jackie a deep, hissing voice cooes into his mind, deceivingly sympathetic. Jackie twitches but otherwise doesn't react. Poor poor Jackie. A twist of sadistic delight, slipping through the cracks. What did they do to Jenny, Jackie? What did they do? Sudden, gut-wrenching venom: They hate you, Jackie, they lie. This is the wrong way!
"God damn," he growls, screwing his eyes shut. "Don't you ******** ever shut up?"
"Hmm, voices in your head not quieting? I do believe I know how that feels."
The new voice comes from out of nowhere, and instinctively, Jackie leaps up onto his feet. His hands search for a gun; it's not a hard thing to do, considering he's armed to the teeth with things he's scavenged from twisted, life-cursed soldiers. Fingers curl around the handle of a Luger and it's only when he has the muzzle of the gun pointed at the mystery voice's face does he take a good look at who's talking to him.
There aren't a lot of people here who don't look like they've been royally ******** up to high Hell and back. Missing limbs, faces practically made of stitches, and Jackie coulds sworn he saw some poor b*****d committing suicide over and over again... That's part one of how this kid is so noticeable, but there are a lot of other things.
Like, you know, he's a kid; a runty sort, with messy black hair that sometimes looks gray-blue when the light shines on it. It's a wild but soft kind of curly at the ends, and falls almost completely on one side of his face. Big black oversized labcoat hangs off him, almost hiding his dark purple slacks and white dress shirt. With the way he's grinnin', kinda innocent like, and his too big clothes, kid almost looks like he's playing dress up. Just one problem: something about him makes Jackie thinks of the Darkness.
Maybe it's his paper white skin and how his eyes are nothing but glowing little orbs in the sockets. Just a thought.
The kid tilts his head to the side, grinning cheerfully into the bad end of the gun. "My apologies. I forget myself. My name is Ienzo Orosco, Mister Estacado. You can put the gun down, now. Besides." The smile twitches, shifts at some point into a smirk as eyelids gray and purple from too little sleep fall halfway. "I can most assuredly remark that my associate's trigger finger is quicker than yours."
The Darkness is hissing and snapping inside his head, alarmed at something, but Jackie is too busy telling it to shut up to pay any attention. Something bright clean white is nagging the corner of his eye, so Jackie slowly turns his head slightly to get a look at Ienzo's partner.
It's like looking into one of those inverse pictures or whatever, with the white lines on black paper. Where Ienzo is pale-skinned and darkly dressed, this woman is the opposite. It's a ******, but not like any Jackie's ever seen. For one thing, she's beautiful; it's probably just Jackie's line of work, but he's rarely seen a black person who wasn't screwed up by drink, prostitution, drugs, or just plain violence. 'Course, he can say that about most other people he knows, too...
But nah, this woman? Untouched by all that. The only thing that's off is the distance in her eyes. IF asked, Jackie would compare her to one of those magazine cover models. Although not as anorexic skinny, she is nice looking, but that isn't what he's thinking about. It's like looking into unfeeling jade stone, and for a second, that's what catches his attention more than the short tred waves and curls of her hair, the white and blue of her get-up, or the sleek design of her gun. He quickly finds himself focusing more on that last part, however.
Carefully, Jackie raises his hands, fingers off the triggers. "Listen, I've been going through enough s**t, and I don't even know you two."
"The situation is the same on our side, Mister Estacado." Ienzo ducks his head forward slightly so he can grin up at Jackie from beneath his bangs. Just another kid thing, but the Darkness still won't shut up... "However, we have heard quite a bit about you. Word gets around, you know. Especially in certain circles." He says that last line like it's a little injoke they should both know.
Move, Jackie! Suddenly, the Darkness is fully coherent again, snarling. Turn back and do not listen-
"You'll do well to stay silent." Icicles drip from the order, that's how could Ienzo's voice suddenly is, and Jackie starts in surprise. The Darkness has always been something inside of him, so how the hell...
"What are you?" Jackie asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
The frigid expression on the kid's face melts away to make room for another smile. "A rude way to phrase a question, Mister Estacado, yet one which is wise to ask. I am an entity similar to the creature which uses you as its host, with some key differences; for one thing, I am not parasitic, and for another, I am considerably less violently insane." He cheerfully gestures to the woman. "Xandra is the opposite of my kind. Say 'hello' to the nice, cursed Mafia hitman, Xandra!"
Jackie and Xandra establish eye contact for a moment before her gaze goes cold. "Try any s**t, and I ensure your brains will be all over the concrete."
"Nice," Jackie mutters, to which Ienzo just shrugs nervously.
"She's not a people person. But I digress." Folding his hand behind his back, Ienzo begins to explain himself. "Now, as I said earlier, Mister Estacado, certain circles have heard of your fascinating situation. After hearing of your background as well, I decided you would make a brilliant ally."
"So you're askin' for my help while pointing a gun at my head?" Jackie's voice is accusingly bland.
Ienzo just smirks. "You unholstered your weapon first, Mister Estacado." Rolling his shoulders in a shrug, he begins to balance on one hell. "Nonetheless, your observation is well made, although we have already planned ahead. As a show of good faith, we shall assist you in procuring the 'Darkness Guns' which you seek in the Hills. Afterward, in a quieter atmosphere, we shall explain our proposal, which you may accept or decline. Accept, and we shall do our best to help you with this troublesome affair concerning your, aha, 'Uncle' Paulie." Innocently, he holds up hi hands. "Yet if you decline, we shall promptly leave and never bother you lest you wish it."
Nice offer, but he isn't the type to go along with something if it just looks good. Putting down his hands, Jackie thinks it all over, amazed at the silence in his head. True to Ienzo's order, the Darkness has remained quiet. Now, he's not educated in supernatural ********, but that seems odd. Whoever or whatever this Ienzo is, he's strong enough to put It in line. "How do I know I can trust you?"
"How do you know you can trust anyone?" Ienzo scoffs, crossing his arms.
"But you," Jackie points out, emphasizing with a finger jab, "aren't 'anyone'. You said you and the Darkness are similar, right? And I've been told that this thing will lie to make things go its way, not to mention it isn't exactly Big Bird."
Kid cracks a smile at that. "Quaint comparison, but I suppose your worries are well founded. If it's any help, think of us as people as well; to say all Lost are liars and murderers is something of a generalization and misconception."
"Lost?"
Gesturing aimlessly, Ienzo chuckles. "Well, that's what we generally call ourselves. Different worlds have different names, but we're also called, for the most part, Heartless. Another misconception; we most certainly have hearts, and most definitely can we feel, as you know. The problem with your particular case is that while it's retained its intelligence and sentience..." With ghost steps, Ienzo comes closer, looking sad. "The poor thing has gone quite mad. It happens to most of those who can rise above the animalistic nature lower Heartless possess."
The day just keeps getting better, doesn't it? "Same thing with you?"
A flinch. Shuffling his feet guiltily, Ienzo glances at Xandra, who hasn't once lowered her gun. "...My brand of madness is more likely to hurt myself. You have nothing to fear, and I have my own preventive measures besides."
It's probably a bad decision to trust this kid, but hasn't his whole night just been made of bad decisions and bad luck? And it's true that he needs all the help he can get in this hellhole. Damn freak soldiers won't stay down... Not to mention Anthony seemed pretty wary of the Hills. Shaking his head, Jackie holsters his guns. "Wont' be the first time I've dealt with crazies," he replies, watching as Ienzo beams. Christ, it's like helping out a kid.
"Marvelous!" Clapping his hands together, Ienzo smiles at Xandra. "You can put the gun away now. Things will go smoothly from now on."
"I hope that's not just your eternal optimism talking," Xandra says simply as she puts away her gun.
"No need to worry." Walking to the edge of the little platform they're on, Ienzo peeks down at the room below before smirking over his shoulder at the two gunners.
"After all, Mister Estacado, I think we can all agree I've made an offer you can't refuse."
