(Images do not belong to me in this chapter, they belong to Hirohiko Araki of course. Also I am not very good at Italian as I only just started learning the language recently, if I make mistakes please correct me!)
Warning, this chapter deals with murder and also mentions suicide (? sort of?), I mean it's JoJo are we really surprised with the murder part?
It was late October when the incident occurred, the night cold and dreary, maybe even indicative of the fact that the spark of life that belong to a person was about to be snuffed out. And you? You blew out the candles, stepping on the flames and stamping it out, violently.
Do you have a name? Why yes. It's...of course... Yeah! It's that of course... ahaha...of course you remember that. Future? Occupation? Current friends? None of that would really matter anymore. It stopped mattering the moment you ever so cruelly swung down that weapon that loosely hung in your hand, the bloodied one you know, the one you used to kill. Who's blood was on it at this point? You didn't know. But you suffered some pretty bad wounds too. Amateur was your dirty work. You weren't used to doing something like this. How would you be? But you do faintly recall that during the struggle you were jabbed by something sharp in retaliation.
You fell to your knees, scraping them on the freezing cold concrete, you were absolutely exhausted. The blood rushing through your ears really made it feel like you were going to pass out at a moment's notice. And you probably would if you weren't so desperately clinging onto your consciousness consciously. A strange feeling enveloped your being, filling your heart with a strange sensation, and your mind with a strange cloudiness.
Dread? Despair? Depression?
No.
Excitement.
A sort of thrill, the adrenaline pumped through your veins almost felt like it could kill you, but it felt better that way. You wouldn't want it any other way. No. Absolutely not.
A small smile tugged at your lips, before pulling and stretching into something that resembled a grin, but looked too inhumane. What had you done? Now nothing could possibly matter anymore. You just didn't want to stop feeling this strange high. This strange cathartic feeling that almost convinced you that it'd be almost perfect to die right now. But that wasn't going to happen; was it? Because you were another piece in the game. No matter what happened: you had another role in plan for you.
An exhale left your lips, and then another and another, before you realized it they became gasps. Desperate tugs and grasps for air, like the weight of the world had been placed on you and now you were just crashing down, your life was going to be over. You'd end up going to prison... Jail! Maybe even get executed. And on that October night, despite your manic grin, something peculiar happened. It was a cold sensation that stung your cheeks, like freezing crystals that wet your skin and dampened your clothing even further: you cried.
Of course you'd cry, why wouldn't you? Your miserable life would be spent rotting and tormented behind bars rather than living it to the fullest like you'd hope to. And something deep inside your very core twisted with repulsion. Despite loving these strange and new feelings...they were terrifying, almost devouring you whole with sickness and other negative feelings.
Had you really allowed yourself to become this emotionally aggravated? You killed another person.
How Pathetic, you thought, grin dissipating almost as soon as it came.
Pathetic pathetic pathetic.
"Hello? 911? Yeah I'd like to report a murder. I just did it and I don't know what to do now. Come get me already."
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𝔸𝕞𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕒 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖 | Stone Ocean x Reader
Fanfiction"Amnesia was her name; she had beautiful eyes" Y/N couldn't remember everything she was supposed to, and that was a problem in itself, nevermind the ones caused before she'd lost her memories. And these problems extended to the many people who end u...
