Chapter Text
Dick Hallorann had a very well-paying job, but it didn't mean he was ready to sacrifice his private time for it. And yet here he was, stuck at the Overlook hotel for one more day, all because some rich bastard decided to arrive in the middle of the night.
“He's some British lord, Joestar or something like that,” Steve the porter told him. Most of the staff left earlier this day, because it was the last day before the closing, goddammit, and Steve was one of the few that had to stick around. “He wants to spend the winter here as a long vacation, can you believe it? Because of that we won't be hiring a caretaker this year. This guy is going to pay us instead! A fortune, I heard. No wonder Uller jumped at the chance.”
At least Uller was stuck here with them, Dick thought with grim satisfaction. The hotel's manger was busy showing his guests around.
Speak of the devil...
Dick's first idea was to get out of the kitchen when he heard Uller's voice approaching, because he was in no mood to socialize with British aristocracy – but then the company entered the kitchen, and Dick forgot about his plans, speechless.
Uller's round form seemed even rounder and sleazier compared to the tall man walking next to him. His hair was blond, his skin was milky white, and he bore an arrogant expression that grew slightly disgusted whenever the man's gaze fell on Uller (not that Dick could blame him for that).
He was dressed in tight leather pants, a purple jacket with a lush feather collar, a tight yellow crop top that showed off rather than hid the man's sculpted musculature, and glittering high-heeled boots.
Dick was so bedazzled by the man that he managed to unfreeze only when Uller addressed him directly.
“And this is Mr. Hallorann, our head chef. A true artist, I assure you! Mr. Hallorann?”
“I, um.” For a moment, Dick got caught in the blond man's crimson eyes (while trying not to stare at his purple-painted lips). “Yes, nice to meet you, Mr. Joestar.”
The man's eyes scanned him, and Dick heard a soft melody in his head, a gentle, alluring whisper, light and unfocused like an idle caress... And just like that, the spell was broken.
Dick's blood grew icy in his veins; chilly sweat trickled down his spine. The man was shining, brighter than a coroner's spotlight and twice as cold.
“I prefer to be called just Dio,” the man said, turning his piercing gaze away from Dick. He spoke in the poshest English Dick had ever heard.
“Of course, Lord Dio, sir!” Uller seemed utterly enamored with his guest. “I apologize, we did not inform the staff... Perhaps Mr. Hallorann could show the kitchen to your wife while we discuss business?”
“Do you take my wife for a servant?” Dio sneered, and Uller paled, bursting with apologies. Dio interrupted him by saying: “We can take a look together. Right, Jojo?” He glanced at his companion, and finally Dick was able to look at her as well.
Now that he thought about it, it was strange how he completely missed the woman when they entered, because Dio's wife was almost as remarkable as he. She was just as tall and brawny, that's for sure, and could even be described as manly if not for the voluminous curve of her breast and a long, old-fashioned blue dress she wore.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Halloran,” the woman said. She smiled at him, and Dick couldn't help but smile in return, all chill that Dio's presence caused melting. The woman's striking blue eyes radiated warmth. “I'm Joanna.”
“A pleasure, Mrs. Joestar.” Offering her a hand like in a ballroom happened nearly automatically, but instead of giving her own hand for a kiss, Joanna opted for a handshake. A very firm one, at that.
“Let's go, Mr. Hallorann.” Dio's voice broke the moment, sending new shivers down Dick's spine. Holy shit, he hoped he did not overstep any boundary, because he absolutely did not want to cause this man's jealousy.
“Be nice, Dio.” Joanna sent her husband a sweet smile, which made Dick even more uncomfortable. Did she not sense the threat Dio was emanating? How was she even his wife? Was it that... devilish charm Dick himself experienced for a moment?
But Joanna did not act with the same blind, servile adoration that Uller sported. She appeared... clear. And then Dick realized that she, too, was shining with pleasant purple hues.
“This is such a huge kitchen, Mr. Hallorann. Perhaps you have some ice cream here?” She turned her head. “Giorno! Giorno, come here!”
“Comiiing!” A child's voice yelled from the other room, and a little boy ran into the kitchen.
The most surprising thing about him was how normal he looked compared to his parents. Sure, his blond hair were longer than usual for boys of his age, and they were styled in a rather weird hairdo with three buns on his forehead, but the rest, from simple blue jeans to the red sweater, belonged to a very ordinary boy. Honestly, it was quite a relief.
Except that, in Dick's eyes, Giorno practically glowed gold.
The walk around the kitchen ended with lord and lady Joestar leaving their son in Dick's care while they continued the tour of the hotel. Dick was quite happy about it; with Dio gone the light itself became brighter, and the air fresher. He wiped his forehead and relished the feeling or normalcy while Giorno enjoyed his ice cream on a tall stool at the counter. The boy already shared with Dick his expert opinion on the Sega versus Nintendo debate (Giorno had both consoles at home, but was a firm supporter of the Nintendo camp, in contrast to some boy or man named Terence?).
“So... GioGio.” Dick finally gathered some courage to start. “You live in England, yeah?”
“Nope, we live in Cairo,” the boy replied cheerfully. Dick decided not to dive deeper into the topic.
“Why did your family come to this hotel?”
“Mama and papa want to have a quiet vacation,” Giorno proclaimed, the phrase sounding like something he heard multiple times from his parents.
“I see...” Perhaps their choice of location wasn't deliberate, as he thought at first. Perhaps Overlook just called to them, like it often called to sensitive or desperate people.
“How do you know my mama calls me GioGio?” the boy asked suddenly.
“Pardon?”
“Only mama and papa call me GioGio, and they didn't do it when you were here.” Giorno was staring straight at him now, but his tone was simply curious. Nothing threatening, unlike his father.
Dick decided he could risk it with the kid.
Sometimes I just know, he said silently – and in Giorno's eyes he saw that the boy heard him. When I was little, my grandma and I could hold entire conversations like this. She called it 'the shining'.
“Cool!” Giorno said out loud, leaning on the counter. “And we call it stands!”
Dick blinked.
“Stands?”
“Ugh-uh!” Giorno nodded energetically. “That must be your stand ability!”
“Your mama and papa have their... 'stands' too, correct?” Giorno nodded again. “I saw all three of you shine.”
“Grandpa Joseph says stand users are attracted to each other.” Giorno leaned back on the stool, hugging his knee. But while Dick was mulling over the idea of an entire family of shining people, Giorno's next question took him off-guard: “What about the hotel?”
“I'm... sorry?”
“You asked about the hotel in the beginning.” Giorno tilted his head, and for the first time Dick felt uncomfortable with the boy. He was too perceptive for a six-year-old.
“Well... You see, Giorno, some places shine too, just like people. And if something happens at such a place, something really bad... it leaves a trace. Like a smell of smoke after you burn a toast.”
“Did something bad happen here?”
Damn, the boy was very perceptive. His eyes were blue like his mother's, yet suddenly Dick felt himself frozen under Dio's scrutiny again.
He sighed.
“Listen, this shouldn't be a problem. Just stay out of Room 237, okay? I'm sure everything will be fine.”
And suddenly Giorno smiled at him, and Dio's shadow disappeared; now it was Joanna's warmth lighting up his face.
“Don't worry, Mr. Hallorann,” Giorno said, squeezing his hand like an adult reassuring a child. “Papa and mama will take care of it.”
***
“Well, Jojo?” Dio stretched his back and put an arm around Joanna's waist, looking around the empty lobby. “Five months all alone, with the entire hotel at our disposal. Romantic winter holidays, as you wanted.”
“And you will finish your research. And maybe even tell me what it's about?” Joanna pecked him on the cheek.
“You will see when I finish it,” Dio muttered, capturing her lips instead.
“Ew, papa! Stop it!” Giorno ran up to them and bumped his head into Dio's side, pulling at his jacket.
“Giorno, have you already chosen a room for yourself?” Joanna tucked a stray lock that fell out or Giorno's central bun back in its place.
“I can have any room I want?” The boy immediately forgot about kisses.
“Any bedroom you want. No sleeping in the gaming room.”
“Aaaw,” Giorno drawled, but he didn't seem very upset. “I'll go then.”
Dio watched the boy disappear behind the corner and tightened his arm around Jojo's waist.
“I have the smartest wife,” he purred, nuzzling her neck. This time, Joanna didn't resist.
This vacation was Dio's idea, but she supported it wholeheartedly. She missed the snow, and had never seen the mountains. So when Dio's American friend, Enrico Pucci, recommended this hotel (apparently, Pucci's family used to spend summer vacations there), the decision was made quickly.
As per Dio's orders, the windows were barred with either planks or heavy curtains, five cases of Dio's books were already transported to the hotel's library, the kitchen was stocked with easy-to-make food, and the freezer was filled with frozen blood bags. Theoretically, Dio did not need blood to feed, only really requiring it to heal in case of injury, and for special dinners Joanna promised him her own. The main problem would be cooking for Giorno and Joanna herself, since they were used to relying on servants, but Joanna did take some lessons from Holly. All in all, she was looking forward to five relaxing months away from Egypt, in a new place, and with no creepy Dio worshipers around.
“Giorno should find a bedroom,” Dio murmured, leaving a trail of kisses under Joanna's ear, “but we are grown-ups. We can stay wherever we want. Maybe even on this table.” He pushed Joanna gently, making her walk backwards until the back of her thighs pressed into the table's edge. “Does it look comfortable to you?”
“Mmm, too public,” Joanna hummed, running her hands up his back and under his jacket. “How about we test more... private spaces first?”
“So modest.” Dio pulled at her earlobe with his teeth. “This is exactly why we didn't take any servants with us.”
“But Giorno is still here.” Joanna leaned back enough to look at him and pressed the tips of her fingers to his lips. “Maybe when he is asleep.”
“Very well.” Dio opened his mouth to bite her fingers gently, but his red eyes grew dark under his painted lashes. “When Giorno goes to sleep, I will have you walk around naked, Jojo.”
***
Giorno checked several rooms on the first two floors, until he forgot about his initial task and focused on simply exploring the hotel. Back home, he knew their mansion like the back of his hand, with all its hidden passages and forgotten storage rooms. But the Overlook hotel was much bigger than the mansion, and Giorno was determined to learn all its secrets.
He was walking down one of the hotel's many corridors when he heard a child's voice:
“Giorno... Hi, Giorno...”
He stopped, taking a quick look around. The corridor was empty. Frowning, Giorno called forth his stand.
“Hey Goldie, did you hear that?” Goldie tilted his head, the hotel's many lights reflecting in his faceted eyes. “Do you sense other kids here?”
The stand floated up to the ceiling, scanning the area, and then shook his head. Giorno sighed, disappointed. Right when he thought he might have other children to play with...
“Giorno, come play with us.”
Giorno spun around, following the voice – and let out a loud gasp. There they were! Not one, but two girls, both in similar blue dresses, with ribbons in their auburn hair.
“Hi!” He waved and ran towards them. The girls exchanged glances; they seemed a little taken aback. Then Giorno realized that they were staring at his stand.
“Oh!” he beamed. “You see him! That's Goldie, he's my best friend. My other best friend is Josuke, he lives in Japan. It's very very far away from here. What are your names?”
The girls exchanged glances again.
“I'm Emily...” the younger one started shyly, but the other jerked her sister's hand, glaring at her.
“Hi Emily! You wanted to play?” Giorno already knew that in strange and awkward situations the best course of action was to pretend all was fine. “What do you like to play? I mostly play video games, but I also like hide-n-seek. This place is so huge, it's perfect for hide-n-seek. What is your name?” He asked the other girl. She continued staring at him, squeezing her sister's hand.
It was Emily who spoke next:
“Are you not afraid of us?”
Giorno frowned.
“No. Why?” In fact, he was happy. Mama took him to a playground a couple of times, but children there couldn't see Goldie and didn't know about stands and laughed at Giorno because he was “weird”. And when he showed them what Goldie could do to prove he didn't lie, they screamed and ran away. Mama was very sad, but Josuke told him that it was better not to show other kids your abilities, because they wouldn't get it. And this hotel was almost like home! First Mr. Hallorann, and now these girls – so many people who could see stands!
But right when Giorno got excited again, the other girl tugged on Emily's hand, and after Giorno blinked, they vanished. Giorno blinked again, hoping that they would come back, then squeezed his eyes shut and opened them, then called Emily's name – but the girls disappeared without a trace.
Giorno sighed as Goldie hugged him, and hugged his stand back. It was just the two of them again.
Maybe the girls would return later...
***
ONE MONTH LATER
Dio was sitting on the chair in the middle of the living room of the luxury honeymoon suite he and Joanna occupied. He was reading a book as The World was hustling around him, putting the discarded pieces of clothing into the wardrobe and dusting the furniture. It was humiliating, forcing such a regal and powerful stand to do a maid's work, but when Dio had to choose between keeping his own dignity or The World's, he immediately chose his own. Spending time in solitude was nice, but the absence of servants meant that Dio and Joanna had to take care of house chores themselves. None of them was very tidy, but at least their stands could work with precision...
The World stopped in front of Dio, signaling that he was finished with this room. Dio stood up with a sigh and strolled into the bedroom. His stand's short range had its drawbacks; Jojo's The Passion could reach all rooms without her moving.
A cold breeze touched the back of his neck when Dio entered the bedroom. There were no windows open, and the chill that he sensed had nothing to do with real wind. He paused, taking a short curious look around, but nothing else happened.
Dio knew this feeling very well – a sleeping dark power locked in a certain place. His mansion had a similar vibe: the ancient graveyard it was built on called out to his vampire nature, waiting for an order to awaken like a loyal dog. Dio remembered the hotel manager – Uller, was it? - confess that Overlook was built on Indian burial grounds. The manager mentioned that fact in reference to Navajo motives used in the hotel's decorations – a rather tasteless move, in Dio's opinion. But the information got him interested: it meant that the hotel would offer him defense in case some dumb stand user tried to attack Dio here.
As a higher being that could create servants by sharing his blood, Dio had command over everything dead or undead – even those creatures that came into existence without his intervention. They were made of the same dark energy that Dio possessed, after all. However, for now nothing manifested itself before him; he felt a cold breeze or a hidden presence sometimes, but did not push the issue. Why show his cards from the very beginning?
Besides, Dio did not really want to bother with it. He was on vacation! He had his own things to do. Like research.
As soon as he was done with cleaning, of course.
***
TUESDAY
“GioGio! The food is ready!” Joanna found her son lying on the carpet in front of the TV, swinging his feet in the air. Since the twilight came earlier in late November, the curtains in the huge dining hall were already drawn open, showing the magnificent view of the mountains.
“The snowstorm is going to hit the Colorado Rockies this night,” the news announcer said from the screen.
Giorno turned his grinning face to her.
“Mama, hear that? We’re gonna get snow!” Snow was the main reason Giorno was excited about this vacation. However, despite the month of waiting, so far all they got was a couple of snowflakes that melted when they touched the ground.
“That’s lovely, dear.” Joanna smiled too. “It’s time for breakfast, let’s go.”
“Is it the omelet again?” Giorno wrinkled his nose.
“Yes, sweetie, the eggs will expire if we don’t eat them. I’ll cook you something else in December, okay?”
“Okay,” the boy sighed. Truth to be told, Joanna needed some time to practice a dish before she was ready to offer it to Giorno. Apparently, cooking was neither her nor Dio’s forte (the latter fed them fish and chips for a week until Giorno rebelled loudly; Dio said that “in his time” he was happy to get something but potato peels and bread, and that Giorno was a spoiled brat; then their pater familias proceeded to sulk in the bedroom for the rest of the night). The cookbook wasn’t very helpful, since most recipes there were too complex, so the first 10 eggs from their refrigerator were wasted on Joanna practicing the art of omelet.
“Will papa come down?”
“No, sweetie, he went to bed very late today.” Joanna ushered her son to the kitchen, where his plate already waited on the counter. “He’s been working in the library.” For some reason, Dio kept hiding the topic of his studies. From a couple of fleeting glances at the books’ titles Joanna knew it was something connected to religion and mysticism. Perhaps he was researching stands?
“I hope it snows tonight.” Giorno prodded his omelet with the fork. “I wanna see a snowstorm. We will be like explorers in ‘The Thing'!”
“I certainly hope not. How do you even know this movie?”
“We woffed iv wuv papa,” Giorno said cheerfully, mouth stuffed with food. Joanna just sighed.
***
Giorno’s hopes came true: the storm raged around Overlook the entire night and day, and so, when the boy woke up the next evening, the landscape behind the windows was silver white, glimmering under the moonlight.
“Woooah!” Giorno squashed his face against the glass. “Mama, look! Let’s go outside!”
“Fine, but don’t run away into the dark.” Joanna warned and went to fetch their coats.
Only now did Joanna realize how she, herself, missed winter. She remembered wrestling with Danny in the snow, and the snowball battles Erin and she indulged in in their childhood – and the later snowball battles between herself and Dio. Those were much more vicious and felt more like real fights rather than play, but they were still fun.
Joanna was glad to relive one of her greater moments by hurling a huge snowball right into Dio’s face, who had just stepped out of the hotel and was in the middle of a yawn. The look of utter shock on the vampire’s face made Joanna laugh out loud – and then scream as she tried to run away, chased by an enraged “WRYYYYYY!” The World caught her with his huge hands, sending her flying into a snowdrift.
“Not fair!” she yelled, floundering in the fluffy pile. “No stands!”
Dio just flashed her a haughty smirk, showing off his fangs.
“I, Dio, do not obey the rules of…”
He was interrupted by Goldie materializing above his head and dumping an armful of snow on his head.
***
The snow battles were a nice exercise, but both Dio and Joanna found themselves yearning for the warmth of the fireplace and the coziness of the couch more often than not. However, nothing could tame Giorno’s excitement for his first real winter.
The light from the hotel’s tall windows was enough to illuminate the land right around it, but fortunately, the topiary garden next to the hotel had its own lamps to light up the evergreen sculptures. It meant that Giorno could play there freely. His little figure in a colorful jacket stood out against the white of the snow, Goldie’s glimmering form following him around, so Joanna felt content with leaving him to play there on his own. She still took a look outside now and then, and attuned The Passion to Giorno’s well-being, telling her stand to alert her in case she sensed fear or pain.
Giorno, for one, loved the topiary garden. It became his own snowy kingdom, and he made his own sculptures next to the big animals – a lion cub for the lion, a little foal for the horse. And since this was his kingdom, he needed a castle!
He was in the middle of rolling a big snow boulder that was going to become the foundation of his castle’s tower, when he sensed some movement behind him. Giorno turned his head – yet there was nothing but the garden and the familiar shapes of animals. Shrugging, Giorno returned to his task. The snow was crunching under his feet and the boulder… and something else?
Giorno spun around, and his heart almost burst out for his chest as he fell back on his bottom. The animal figures were surrounding him, looming over him, blocking the lamps' light.
Giorno’s eyes widened.
“Are you… alive?” he whispered, staring at the animal shapes. And then, right before his eyes, they shifted, moving forward in a fluid motion.
“COOL!” Giorno jumped to his feet, forgetting about his castle. “Are you a stand? You must be related to Goldie!”
The animals took a step back, their massive eyeless heads tilting. They preyed on fear, which was especially delicious from little humans. Why wasn’t this little human afraid of them?
“Goldie, show them!” Giorno addressed a semi-transparent golden creature that appeared next to him. It had faceted eyes, and its body was decorated with tiny ladybugs. Was it one of their kind? The animals leaned closer to sniff it, but the golden creature did not smell like anything.
Then it made a little snowball – which promptly turned into a rabbit.
The rabbit sniffed the air, its long sensitive ears twitching, and jumped off the golden creature’s arms, running in zigzags between the confused topiary animals. Upon reaching the edge of the clearing, it dissolved into snow again.
The animals looked back at the little human. It was grinning, showing no signs of fear. Perhaps it was right, and it was somehow related to them?
“Hey,” the boy said, glancing between them, “do you want to play with me? This garden will be our fairy kingdom, and we will build a castle, and you guys will be sacred spirits protecting it.”
Protecting the garden. That the animals could understand. This was… kind of what they were doing anyway. Guarding the garden and preying on little humans. But this one had an animal ghost with it and could make objects alive.
The topiary animals paused for a moment – and slowly nodded their heads.
When Joanna came to pick Giorno up, she thought that the topiary garden looked different than before, but paid it no mind.
***
SUNDAY
Dio was lying with his cheek on the book. It was open on the page with the Tree of Sephiroth, and by now it was probably printed on Dio’s face, but he had no desire to stand up or change position. Next to him lay a thick notebook in a leather cover, open on what had to be the third or fourth page. Dio’s handwriting started on top of the page and ended there in a tired scribble.
He was. So. Relaxed.
He had never felt so relaxed back in the mansion. There, there was always something to do: read a new book, mess with the henchmen, take Joanna out, play with Giorno, call Enrico, arrange a trip to Jamaica to check out ancient Induist temples, arrange a trip to New York to go clubbing, finish the model ship…
Perhaps because of the variety of fun choices available to Dio, he never managed to finish anything. His impressions of Jamaica were left unwritten, his half-assembled model ship was collecting dust on the shelf, and Hol Horse, the dumbass traitor, was still running around somewhere in Peru. This was why he found the idea of a winter vacation spent in a secluded hotel, cut off from civilization, brilliant. He would be able to concentrate on two things as opposed to twenty two: having fun with his family and doing research on the way to Heaven.
Dio never thought that, without twenty other things to distract him, he would grow so… lazy.
He sighed, closing his eyes. Who knew that, after a lifetime of constant activity, it would be so pleasant to just… relax and not do anything? Dio had always been afraid of inactivity, especially after one hundred years spent in a coffin at the bottom of the sea. But no, the coffin was a trap. This was a pleasant vacation.
Perhaps he shouldn’t be so strict with himself. So what if he couldn’t force himself to read or write? He was on vacation, right? If he wanted to be lazy, he could be lazy. In fact, if he wanted to hit the bar at – Dio cast a glance at the clock – midnight (damn, was it early), he could do it!
Enjoying the feeling of a decision made and responsibilities ditched, Dio stood up and stretched his muscles, groaning. A glance in the mirror confirmed that yes, he had two of the eleven sephiroth on his cheek, so a short wash was in order. After the ink was successfully wiped off his face, Dio headed down the stairs, whistling a tune.
***
Giorno was skipping down the corridors of the hotel. Goldie still couldn't carry him in the air like The World could, so for now they practiced what Giorno called “moon jumps”: he skipped, Goldie lifted him as high as he could and softened the landing. So far they managed to make the jumps twice Giorno's height.
They had just turned around the corner, when he heard a familiar voice.
“Giorno... Hello, Giorno.”
“Emily?” Giorno stopped to look around, but Emily or her sister were nowhere to be seen.
Instead, the doors of the elevator at the end of the hallway started bleeding. The flow increased, until it turned into a huge wave of blood flooding the corridor.
Giorno frowned.
“Papa!” he shouted. “Stop eating like that! You know mama hates it.”
The view before his eyes flickered, as if in confusion, and suddenly the corridor became clean again. Giorno wiped his eyes and squinted, but the blood still did not reappear.
“Papa?” He called, this time cautious. When nobody answered him, Giorno headed straight to the elevator. A short check-up delivered no traces of blood. Giorno shrugged and continued his way down the hallway.
“Giorno... Come play with us, Giorno.”
Ah, there they were! Emily and her sister, holding hands as before, standing an the end of the corridor.
“Hi!” Giorno waved at them. “I thought you'd never come again! Did you see the blood? What was that?”
The girls exchanged silent glances, as they seemed to do quite often, and then their shapes flickered. Suddenly Giorno saw them lying on the floor, motionless and covered in gore. A bloody axe was lying next to them.
Another blink, and the corridor went back to normal – except for Giorno, who gasped and covered his mouth.
He had seen dead bodies – briefly, before Vanilla ushered him out of the room. Those were bad people, he had said; they tried to betray and kill your father. And Giorno had seen lots of dead bodies in the movies he watched with papa when mama was away.
But these – these were people he knew. Two girls around his age, who wanted to play with him.
Goldie's figure glowed bright next to him, giving Giorno reassurance.
“Who did this to you?” Giorno said, hoping that his voice did not waver. “Goldie and I will destroy them.” Papa always said you had to destroy your enemies, and mama said a gentleman protected those who needed help. These girls needed help!
Emily and her sister exchanged looks again, but this time it was the older girl who answered:
“You... you can't.”
“Then I'll tell mama and papa, and they will destroy them!” Giorno clenched his fists, encouraged by Emily's awed expression. It made Giorno feel warm and all-powerful. “Who did this to you?”
A creak behind him made him jump. Giorno spun around, expecting a mutant monster, but all he saw was an open door. It had the number 237 on it.
“Is it there?” He asked, but got no answer. The girls vanished, and Giorno couldn't blame them – he was quite nervous himself. His legs felt numb and wobbly like jelly.
No! He was a gentleman! He was going to protect the girls. If he did, certainly Emily and her sister would want to be his friends.
Giorno gulped, grasped Goldie's hand and entered the room.
***
During the initial tour of the hotel, the manager told Dio that they took all the alcohol away for the winter, but Dio wasn't going to tolerate this. So the bar was fully stocked with all sorts of drinks, from wine and champagne to the most expensive spirits. Dio already went through the Overlook's collection and approved of the management's tastes.
But tonight the bar greeted him with warm lights playing on the bottles' sides and a smiling face of a bartender.
“Good evening, Mr. Dio. What would you like to drink?”
Dio raised an eyebrow. There was a distinct lack of blood flow in the bartender. In fact, Dio was very sure that the bartender wasn't alive.
“Why not,” Dio said, and The World stopped time. The man behind the counter stayed frozen too, but his shape blurred; Dio could see the bones beneath the ethereal skin. Dio poked him, and his finger went right through the man; but when The World poked him, his grey finger hit something solid.
A ghost, then. Interesting.
Time resumed its flow, and Dio sat down on the stool, smiling at the clueless bartender.
“Well, since I'm on vacation, I'd go for something local,” he said, leaning on the counter and sending the man his best smile.
“One bourbon on the rocks then. Coming right up, sir,” the ghost replied and started preparing his drink. He was lanky and dry like the bourbon itself, his skin wrinkled and his eyes colorless.
At least the bourbon was good; Dio preferred Scotch whisky, but this one was pretty decent. Dio took a sip, watching the bartender out of the corner of his eye.
“Enjoying your stay, sir?” the ghost asked.
“More or less,” Dio answered, his curiosity piqued. The ghost had to appear before him for a reason; what did it want?
“You don't sound so sure, sir, if I may offer my opinion.”
Oh? Was the ghost looking for weaknesses? Well then, why not play its game?
“I have to admit, my work hasn't been going very well.” Here, have a bait.
“Sorry to hear that, sir.” The bartender paused to clean a glass. “Why is that, if I may ask?”
Dio smirked and took another sip. This was promising to be fun.
***
The room 237 turned out to be empty, and Giorno was ready to let out a sigh of relief and leave, when another creak send goosebumps down his spine. The door to the bathroom was open.
Together with Goldie hovering over his shoulder, Giorno crept to the door and peeked inside. The light in the bathroom was on, and the curtain around the bathtub was drawn closed. If someone was in the room, they were there.
Giorno gulped again. He gotta look tough, like cousin Jotaro. Giorno straightened his back and put his hands in his pockets.
“Come out!” He said, his voice squeakier than usual. “I, I'm gonna beat you up!”
No one answered, but Giorno heard the water splash behind the curtain. Biting his lip, he made a step forward, and then another one, and then another one, until he was right before the bathtub. With a shaking hand, Giorno pushed the curtain aside.
There was a naked body in the bathtub – Giorno managed to catch a glimpse of it: grey skin covered in open wounds, wrinkled breasts and thin white hair floating in the water – but then the dead woman sat up and opened her milky white eyes, and Giorno screamed.
An icy cold hand grabbed his neck, slick, bony fingers digging into his skin, cutting off his scream, and Giorno could only open his mouth, trying to gasp for air. Right in front of him he saw a face – a horrible, half-decayed face of a woman, her cheeks hollow and mouth full of grey slime. Her hand clenched around his neck, she grinned –
And then the bathroom door slammed open, a wave of warmth coursed through Giorno – and something hit the dead woman in the chest with a deafening cry:
“YELLOW SUNLIGHT OVERDRIVE!”
The hand around Giorno's neck released him, and the ghost dissolved into dust.
***
“...and then Jojo told me I shouldn't show my son such movies. What's wrong with them? They are not even based on real horrors, like hunger or disease.” Dio waved his glass to emphasize his point. “But of course she knows nothing about those, she grew up in riches.”
“Of course, sir,” the bartender nodded wisely. “Your anger is fully justified.”
“Oh, Lloyd, you're such a nice fellow.” Dio winked at him. “You understand me so well.”
“My pleasure, sir.” Lloyd put down the glass he was cleaning. “Perhaps it is time you taught that bitch a lesson.”
Clank. Dio's glass landed on the counter.
“Lloyd, my dear friend.” Dio's lips were still stretched, but it wasn't a smile anymore. His fangs glinted in the dim lighting. “Did you just call my wife a bitch?”
The bartender jerked, but couldn't do anything, because The World's massive hand suddenly clasped on his collar, holding him in place. Dio leaned toward him...
“DIO!!!” Joanna's panicked voice snapped Dio out of his rage.
“Jojo?” He jumped off the bar stool only to see Joanna run into the ballroom with Giorno in her arms.
“This place is haunted! There was a ghost in one of the suits!” Joanna was clutching Giorno like a cornered mother cat. “It tried to hurt Giorno – look!” She turned the boy towards him, and Dio saw it too – horrible bruises in a shape of a hand print around his son's neck.
His rage, momentarily replaced by fear, arose again – but this time it was even stronger.
“Where is it?” Dio growled.
“It's gone, I burned it with hamon.” It did not escape Dio's attention how Lloyd flinched at that notion. “But what if there are more...” then Joanna's gaze fell on the bartender, who was still dangling in The World's hold.
“Alright,” Dio said, his voice deceptively calm. “Games are over.” He turned to Lloyd, and the bartender froze under Dio's glare like a mouse before a cat. Dio scrutinized Lloyd for a long, drawn-out moment, relishing the fear slowly contorting the bartender's face. Then Dio closed his eyes and called for the powers he hadn't used for years, ever since he decided human henchmen were more useful than ghosts and zombies. “Ghosts of Overlook, I, Dio, command you to appear before me!”
Lloyd flinched again, his shape flickering and fading a little, and suddenly the ballroom filled with people. Dio heard Jojo gasp, and Giorno stirred in her arms, looking around. Most people appeared like party-goers from more than fifty years ago; there was a plain-looking man with a tray in one hand and an axe in the other, and two little girls, and even... a water hose?
It was not the right time to wonder about that. Dio walked to the center of the room, his stride wide and confident, and stopped with his hands on his hips. The World with captive Lloyd followed him.
“I believe it is time we established the order here,” Dio announced, looking over his audience. He saw numerous deathly pale faces turn to him, and heard soft whispers, like a breeze in tree branches far far away. The ghosts whispered to one another, their shapes wavering and mouths forming grimaces of terror; apparently, the news about one of them getting vanquished traveled fast. Dio felt a surge of love toward his wife.
“I am Lord Dio, and from now on, I am the only master over all you miserable wretches.” He started pacing, his hips swaying, his voice soft like silk yet cold like polar ice. “This,” he pointed at Joanna, “is my wife, and this is my son. To you they are Lady Joestar and Young Master Giorno, and you will obey and respect them as you do me. If one of you dares to harm at least a hair on their heads, my wife will burn you all into ash like she did with the foolish piece of garbage that attacked my son. And if she doesn't, then...” Dio allowed himself a dark smirk and silently ordered The World to stop time.
One second.
The World tore Lloyd's legs off, the undead body helpless before Dio's will.
Two seconds.
The World grabbed a random ghost from the crowd – a corpulent balding man – and tore his arms off.
Three seconds.
The fat man's arms got attached to the stubs of Lloyd's legs, turning him into a comical parody of a monkey with hands for feet.
Four seconds.
Lloyd's legs replaced the fat man's arms, Dio's silent command sealing the junctions.
Five seconds – time resumed its flow.
Lloys staggered, his new knees – elbows, actually – giving in under his weight. A moan of horror rolled across the ballroom as the other ghosts saw the chimaera, and it was joined by a high-pitched, hysterical scream from the man with four legs.
Dio's lips stretched in a sweet smile.
“Then you will deal with me,” he finished, fully pleased with himself.