"Giorno? Boss? You okay in there? You haven't touched your breakfast out here." asked Guido Mista his right hand man and trusty comrade with a sharp knock the mahogany door of his bedroom.
"I- I'm fine, Mista. I'm fine. I just didn't want to eat right now." He lied. His stomach churning from hunger and growling with an audible sound .
"Right now? Giorno, you've been like that for the past few weeks." Mista said in an as a "matter of fact"-ly tone with his arms crossed across his chest.
"I said it. I don't have the appetite. Did I stutter, Mista?" Giorno said quite being irritated with Mista always knocking on his door to force him outside for almost a week now.
"Fine! You rot in there stronzo." Mista frustratedly mumbled under his breath then turning around to walk away.
Giorno is not going outside especially on what happened to him from a past few weeks.
It happened when his weird changes started to show. He suddenly crept inside Trish's bedroom and tried to stab her while she's sleeping in the middle of the night. Thankfully Giorno gained consciousness to his actions and managed to stop himself before his blade pierce deeper on her skin. He pulled out the knife and left a long and thin cut on her neck. She didn't woke up, fortunately for Giorno. Then the night after that he unconsciously tried to suffocate Mista with a pillow luckily, he gained control and fled from Mista's room before he could wake up.
From that night, he became afraid of himself. He tried to eat normal food in hopes to get rid of the urges to consume flesh and blood. But his taste buds refused to take it in and decided to make the food he ate taste like rancid shit so he would vomit it out. It's been a while since he have eaten properly. Water is the only thing that is palatable and tolerable for him. His weight dropped considerably and his skin became pale. Everytime he looks at the mirror, he would see a fluctuating reflection of a scrawny, pale and disheveled person with sunken, tired emerald eyes which brought him to smash the mirror into bits.
Trish and Mista were very much worried; he hasn't gone outside for weeks.
"Mista, we should come inside his room now. He needs us." Trish said with worry on her tone.
Mista turned his gaze towards Trish and stood up from his seat and then pulled her hand. "Let's do it. C'mon." he said for he was starting to get annoyed and worried by Giorno's attitude lately.
She nodded and then the two proceeded to go to his room. They took a sharp turn and ended up on his doorstep.
"Trish. Open the door with your stand. You should be able to soften the lock"
Trish agreed and then summoned her stand- Spice Lady. Her stand is the kind of stand that could change the surface, malleability, and a structure of any thing that she could touch.
The lock melted which let them inside. "Mista, I want you to ready your stand." Trish said quietly.
"Why?" Mista asked.
"You know that there's definitely wrong about him now. We must be cautious, this must be caused by an enemy stand."
Mista gulped and nodded.
The two felt a very heavy aura inside his room. It's cold and unnerving like an abandoned cemetery in the dead of night. There lay Giorno on his bed rolled up in his blankets and shivering. They never saw him like that before.
Trish moved further towards his bed but even before she could place a finger on his long and disheveled lock of hair, Giorno caught Trish's hand with such grip that her hand bled out under his grip.
His hands were pale and cold just like a corpse. His nails were long, black and sharp that it can slit a bloody wound. Trish let out a loud scream from his grip. Mista tried to remove Giorno's grip but it's futile.
"Giorno! Stop!! You're going to break Trish's hand!" Mista called out to Giorno while still trying to help Trish to break free from his hands . Instead, he hardened his grip and sunk his long black nails deep into the flesh of her hand.
Mista tried his best to pull his hand away but Giorno raised his other hand to hit Mista with such force that it made him hit against the wall. Trish felt his nails pierce her and her warm blood trickle and stain his hands and sheets.
Giorno seemed to be tranced, unconscious and is not aware about what he's doing. Mista tried to stand up then took his gun and slammed it into Giorno's head and knocked him out of consciousness. The hit loosened the grip which let Trish to pull out from his hand. She was exhausted. Like he had sucked the energy out of her.
"Are you okay?" Mista ran towards Trish and then wrapped her hand with the bandages he retrieved from Giorno's room. "Yes I'm okay. But he's not. This is not good." she said while looking Giorno's unconscious form on his bed.
Trish and Mista walked towards his bed again and looked on Giorno.
His face, it's paler and is thinner, his hair undone and dull, his teeth bore sharp fangs as if it were a slightly gaped mouth of a serpent.
"Mista, get a washcloth and a basin with warm water and goat's blood. Quick!" Trish commanded she remembered what that weird Marine Biologist had instructed her to do just in case this happens.
...
.
.
.
.
.
"Listen Ms. Una, Haruno... I mean Giorno is different. The Speedwagon foundation has been watching him and found out that his father is Dio Brando, a super Vampire that's lingering around this Earth for almost hundreds of years. And we're afraid that Giorno will soon become one and cannot control the power and the darkness in him. He maybe dangerous to you and to everyone." said Dr. Kujo; the strange man from an organization approached me while I was just strolling the streets of Napoli.
"And why would I listen to you? And why talk to me? I may or may not be the person to talk to. I may or may not know who you are talking about."
"Why not? And to answer the remaining questions, we know you— we're just watching and observing that's why I know that you are the right person to talk to. I can see that you are the person that would not leave someone and would rather not have casualties if there's another way around. And besides you won't listen to me if you don't care. So Ms. Una, I'll leave you for now. Call me if you want to save your friend. Ignore me if you want but I'll assure you that boss of yours has darker things inside him." he ended his sentence and left me alone at the cafe.
.
"Trish! Here's what you need." Mista said while staggering towards her. "Good. Place that over there."
Trish took the basin and then poured the pitcher of blood then added a few drops of her own blood in it. "What the fuck are you doing Trish?" ,Mista asked in an outraged tone. "Saving his life."
Trish soaked the wash cloth then let it drip in Giorno's mouth.
His eyes sprung open when the blood came down in his mouth. Giorno quickly grabbed Trish's hand and then suckled on the blood soaked washcloth on her hand like a lost man in the desert for days and longed to taste water again.
Slowly, Giorno's complexion gain back its normal color and his body suddenly regained its old form. He suddenly fell back to his bed, his breathing were heavy while his eyes were darted to the ceiling with it's color fluctuating from crimson to torquoise before falling unconscious again. After a few hours, Giorno gained consciousness with a minor headache from the blow that Mista gave him.
Giorno's PoV:
What happened? Trish and Mista? They seemed to be asleep.
I sat on my bed and saw my reflection reflected on the silver vase on my bedside table. It's back. But... Traces of dried blood was on my sheets and in my clothes. What happened?
They seemed exhausted. What did I...? I slowly got off of my bed and then walked towards my washroom. I really need to freshen up. Locked the door behind me and removed all of my clothes. I stepped in and opened the shower. Encased by its warm water I felt calm and then I started to rinse off the dried blood off of my body.
While washing myself I saw a shadow moved from behind my shower curtain. What's that? Ugh. Maybe I'm hallucinating again. I shrugged off the feeling and then proceeded my business. I turned the water off and got the towel hanging outside the curtains. I dried myself and looked at the mirror to see something on my ear, what? When did I have this moles? I saw three moles aligned on my right outer ear. Shrugged it off again and proceeded to take my spare clothes inside the bathroom cabinet and proceeded to clothe myself.
"Haahhh... Ru...no..." a voice rang into my ear with such softness that it's eerily calming.
"Haaahhh... ru... nohh..." it said again. It said the name I have sworn to forsake.
It's the name that reminded me of the pain, the trauma and the pit of desperation that I have to go through just to endure the burden of living under the feeling of fear.
The hair at the back of my neck rose and goosebumps appeared on my arms. It's like there's someone or something and it's calling... Me.
I was not able to move for a moment but I gained my composure and proceeded outside where I was met with an awaken Mista standing right in front of me with a frown while folding his arms above his chest
"Mis—...!", I was startled with his hand hitting me across my face.
"Don't you Mista- Mista me! You worried us sick Cazzo! God!" Mista yelled towards me while holding the collar of my shirt.
"Im sorry..."
"What? You're sorry? Listen Idiota. Don't apologize to me cause I understand your pride and shit. Apologize to Trish. She's been restless since you shut yourself in here and never spoke a word to us. You even almost broke her hand, Giovanna," Mista said while releasing my shirt collar. He grudgingly turned his back and sat at the foot of my bed.
He looked exhausted too. Then I looked at Trish's still sleeping form. Her right hand were heavily bandaged and there are small stray wounds that are near her wrapped up arm.
"You did that... Really... What's up with you?" Mista asked with a seriousness that are unusual to see in him. Mista had changed a little since Bucciarati and the others had lost. He's still the same old tetraphobe that I knew but the recent events had made him a little bit serious.
"I... Don't know... I do not know."
"Dio mio, Giorno..." Mista sighed. "Well... I guess you are very bizarre indeed.", He continued his sentence.
I shrugged and sat on the chair where Mista sat earlier.
" You're lucky that I didn't used Sex Pistols to you. Who knows that you're hiding some batshit crazy quirks behind yer donut looking ass." Mista joked towards me with a small grin.
I really don't understand... I just can't get a grasp on what's going on with me. I have to agree, batshit crazy is the right word.
"Ugh... Giorno? You're awake!" Trish said after waking up. She approached me with a very worried look and caught my face in-between her palms. " Are you okay? Hmm.. you eyes had returned. Thank goodness." , She sweatdropped after examining my eyes and letting go of my face.
"Trish, I'm okay. I'm sorry to cause you any trouble. I didn't mean to... I really don't."
Trish slumped beside Mista and sighed with relief,"That's okay. This hand will heal. What's important is you are safe."
Mista looked at Trish and saw some kind of uneasiness etched in her expression. "Trish, tell me. What do you know about this? I don't need to be Bruno to know that you know something."
