Chapter Text
Jonathan struggled against the two large men dragging him forward, arms locked behind his back. One man who had ambushed him in the streets of Cairo was certainly a vampire. Like has a habit of recognizing like, and whatnot. However, there was something about this man, something that went beyond the skills of the average vampire. If it wasn’t for the strange little Boston Terrier waiting for him back home, Jonathan wouldn’t have a ghost of a chance guessing what he was dealing with. The other man was definitely human and dressed like some of Speedwagon’s friends from America back when he was starting off his business ventures. He was a formidable opponent, though it was a bit humorous watching his expression as he littered Jonathan’s body with bullets to no effect. It wasn’t until Jonathan was completely frozen to the ground when the tides of the battle changed. By the next time that Jonathan was fully aware, he was inside a dark building being dragged forward. Once the two noticed that Jonathan was coherent again, they forced him to walk on shaky legs.
After stumbling up a long set of stairs, Jonathan froze at the sound of a familiar low voice.
“Jonathan Joestar. It’s been a long time. A century, almost?”
“That sounds correct, Dio. What an odd existence we live,” Jonathan said, with a hint of a laugh.
The men threw Jonathan forward to take position at the door, which gave Jonathan the only option of walking into the center of the room. Dio stood in the shadows, poised with every ounce of dignity that he fully believed he deserved, rather than the amount that he's earned. Despite the darkness, Jonathan could see his adoptive brother perfectly well, and he knew that it was the same for Dio. There was no hope of Jonathan taking advantage of the shadows when the inevitable fight starts, using the guile that one can only develop when raising a young Joseph Joestar.
“I’m surprised that you’re still around,” Dio said. “I would’ve expected that you would’ve walked into sunlight or extinguished yourself using that Hamon of yours.”
Jonathan had to fight back a grimace at those words. When the Stone Mask was planted on his face, he lost all access to his Hamon. It was a theory he held for years, only for Straizo's attack on Joseph to confirm the destruction that Hamon could wreck on his body. It was heartbreaking, having to abandon the teachings of Baron Zeppeli before Jonathan could fully heal from his loss. However, his mentor was more than just lessons in martial skill, and Jonathan was able to move forward with the memories of Zeppeli in his heart. Yet, it didn’t make Dio’s reminder sting any less.
“I’m surprised that you didn’t test the limits of your immortality,” Dio continued, with a laugh. “Imagine, being the first vampire to die of starvation. And yet, you’re looking quite hearty, Jonathan. Tell me, how long did it take for you to fall to depravity?”
“You always seem to underestimate Erina, Dio,” Jonathan said with a shake of his head. “She was a brilliant nurse, always trying to stay at the forefront of medical practices before she retired. I am never short of loved ones willing to help me with my condition.”
Dio laughed with a clap of his hands. “Oh, I almost missed that puppy-like earnestness. No one wears that nobility quite like you.”
“Speaking of wearing, I see you’re still wearing someone else’s body. Is it the same priest’s from the shipwreck or have you sampled more over the century?”
“Oh, this old thing?” Dio looked down, like he needed to remind himself that he had a body beneath the end of his neck. “I can’t even remember who this belonged to. None of them were worth my attention in the first place. Not a single one of them earned my respect.” His eyes locked onto Jonathan. “Truly, there has always been and always will be one body worthy of my control.”
Jonathan curled his hands in fists, ready to drop into a boxing stance the second Dio made a move. He winced at the slight sting in his hand, which immediately drew Dio’s attention.
“Aw, are you hurt Jonathan? Do we need to take a moment for you to convalesce?”
“Just a scratch from a disagreement at a dig site.” A little more than a scratch. The Italian man on the dig team actively stabbed the back of Jonathan’s hand clean through with the an arrowhead from the dig after being confronted. “We had differing opinions on the sale of historical artifacts. Especially ones that hadn’t been properly documented and researched.”
“You always were quite passionate about your trade,” Dio said, turning as a door on the other side of the room opened. He walked into the light cast from the door and addressed a small, old woman on the other side. After taking something from her, Dio returned to his spot across from Jonathan. “In fact, I have some lovely artifacts that I think you might enjoy.”
Jonathan barely blinked before he found himself on the ground, one of Dio’s feet firmly pressed on his chest. In his hand, he twirled what looked like a long wooden pike. The carvings were so intricate that they made the wood look warped when viewed from a distance. Dio stopped twirling the pike after a moment, looking it over like he was inspecting its craftmanship.
“It’s a beautiful piece, isn’t it? I discovered it over the course of my travels. It has quite the interesting effect when exposed to the undead.”
With a wide grin, Dio slammed the pointed end of the pike into Jonathan’s elbow. He couldn’t bite back a scream as the wood pierced straight through muscle and bone. No matter how much he thrashed, he couldn’t make the pike budge. He could move his arm up the length of the shaft, but the pike had pierced too far into the floor for him to move with strength alone. Jonathan squinted at the weapon, trying to find the right angle to knock it from his arm; however, his eye was soon drawn by subtle movement. Blood, usually a fuel source to be burned away by his vampiric powers until he can feed again, was flowing upwards along the pike. Bloody trickles twisted and turned along the carvings, fully displaying the details. Jonathan would admire the lovingly carved artifact if the pain hadn’t intensified ten-fold. It was as though his body had recorded the pain from the initial piercing and wouldn’t allow Jonathan to forget it.
“It’s a neat trick, isn’t it?” Dio grabbed the pike and started pulling it back and forth, expanding the diameter of the hole in Jonathan’s elbow. “It saps away the lifeforce of the undead. In all the zombies that I tested the weapon on, it left them in a state of perpetual agony. It got to the point that even those feral beasts were begging for death. It seemed quite perfect to subdue that indomitable will of yours.”
“Ha,” Jonathan breathed. “It’s troublesome, but do you think this is really enough to break me?”
For the first time since their reunion, Dio’s smile dropped. “No.”
In his pain, Jonathan hadn’t noticed the other vampire standing behind Dio, offering him an armful of the pikes. One by one, Dio stabbed each into Jonathan’s body. His knee. His thigh. His shoulder. His ribcage. His abdomen. By the time Dio was through, Jonathan was little more than a butterfly pinned to a board. His mind was swimming in pain, becoming less coherent with each second. He couldn’t even hear Dio’s words at this point, nor could he read his lips. All he could do was watch as Dio’s hands approached his throat.
Despite his shock and delirium, Jonathan didn’t have the luxury of passing out from the pain. Not when Dio’s claws scratched at his throat, and especially not when a series of black vines crossed over Jonathan’s skin to block his hand. The vines steadily increased in thickness, overlapping and interweaving until Jonathan was encapsulated in the shadows of the dark, thorny cocoon. Overhead, he was aware of screaming, paired with strikes against the pikes. But that was the limit of his understanding, his mind slowly deteriorating under the pain.
In the final moments before his thoughts were completely sacrificed, Jonathan thought of his loved ones, wishing them safety from Dio’s power.