Fury wasted no time in outlining the situation (which was pretty much just there's fucking demons, we're takin' them out, don't let any get too close') before they set off in search of what S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists had told him was the origin point. They passed agents and soldiers, cops and capes, but Fury bypassed it all and continued for his objective. Fury and his motley strike force of underage misfits would find the cause of this madness, fast and first. Maybe they could find a way to close whatever gate to hell was opened, or at least cut them off at the pass.
They reached the street where intel was directing him through his earpiece via satellite tracking devices and other hi-tech shit manned by agents safe in some base somewhere. Here, it wasn't remotely safe, and the trio's progress was hindered by a group of flaming cars, all pushed (accidentally or in brilliant strategy) to block the road and sidewalks completely. Not willing to be stopped so easily, Nick looked around for an alternate route and found one in the form of a house they could cut through to the backyard and around the blockade that way.
The place's garage was open and done up like some kind of slipshod haunted house with black streamers, red lighting and a fog machine churning out viridian vapors. The sounds of rattling chains, eerie music and campy screams poured from speakers invisible in the darkness. Fury pressed forward, gun at the ready, all alert for any demonic foe or frightened civilians. As he wandered through the makeshift horror scene- which gave way from the garage to walls inside splattered with blood and the sounds of a chainsaw, he wondered if the shadows at the corner of his eye were just tricks of light, if the guttural growls he heard were just part of the ambiance. He'd picked a really terrible fucking alternate route.