Following the last few weeks in Chicago, Tony's heart grew softer. He stops in his local church in the South side. Cold wind blows past his face, he looks up at the church as cold shivers run down his spine. The church had became a normal place he could be found quite often.

If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Heavenly father forgive me for I have sinned, give me the strength to fight these wild winds, help my family who's eyes silently plead with me to stop. God bless our mothers for the unknown awaits me on the other side. Weather I make it home tonight is not in my power but gods plan! 

Tony would be down on one knee with a Jesus pendent in one hand and his 38. revolver in the other hand, he crosses his heart before standing up and disappearing in to the night.

Orders came down the ranks and Tony had to carry out a hit, it wasn't his first hit or his last. A certain mafiaos was going to be at the church in Chicago in a few nights, so Tony went ahead and made preparations for the hit. He contacted a few people, made arrangements and was positioned in the booth where people come to repent. He waited and waited, sweat trickling down his forehead as he started to heat up. Within a few minutes a tall figure appears in the booth ready to repent his sins. The male figure sits down and begins to speak with a husky but noticeable Italian accent. It was as if his noise was blocked all the time .

The Italian man speaks: Dear father I come to you in hopes I could redeem myself, I haven't been the best husband or father lately and I pray daily my son does not endure the same hardships as me or commits these monstrous crimes I have done. 

Tony responds camly, the tone in his voice would give of a vibe he was here to help this man: Close your eyes for me boy, imagine your on a nice island somewhere in the Pacific ocean. Your wife, your son. Just you guys away on holiday. No problems, no worries. Just the three of yous... 

 The Italian man closes his eyes and his mind drifts into another place. Tony up lifts his 38. revolver aiming it towards the man's head from behind the vented wall between them. Bang! Bang! Bang! The sound of a small caliber pistols rings out threw the vicinity. Blood splatters onto the walls the man would be sitting next to. Tony exits the booth, just as he goes to make his way out of the church a small boy of 13 comes running in. Tony aims the 38. towards the kids head firing one bullet into his forehead, he closes his eyes looking away as he fires killing the kid instantly. 

​​​​​​Tony high tails it out of the church, sprinting of into the darkness. The following weeks he spent at home drowning himself in whiskey, a heavy burden for one to carry...

The smell of depression, anger and mixed emotions followed by a strong reeking smell of alcohol around Tony's atmosphere would swallow him whole. That or he really needed to take a shower... He looks at himself in the mirror, he hadn't shaved in that long he started to look like one of the neanderthal's. Unable to recognize himself it shocks him. Tony makes his way in to the shower, twenty minutes would pass as he finally hops out. Tony locates his shavers leaving a nice 5'o clock shadow. Today Tony catches a train in to the central business district of Chicago to treat himself to a five star breakfast and pick up a couple of suits.