Best Laid Plans

1888: Seconds Too Late

“So, Mr Joestar,” Speedwagon was sitting across from Jonathan in the carriage. “Do you really believe this brother of yours to be innocent? Because running to buy the antidote when poison is suspected seems pretty suspicious to me.”

Jonathan looked up from bandaging his arm and frowned at Speedwagon.

“How do you mean Speedwagon?”

He shrugged, resting his foot on his knee.

“Well, it seems pretty suspicious to me. The minute you suspect that your father is being poisoned, he runs out to buy the antidote? To me, it looks like he’s trying to make it look like he’s innocent. Besides, how did he even know what antidote to buy? You said yourself that you hadn’t confronted him before he left.”

“A good point Speedwagon, but an invalid one.” Jonathan leant back in his seat. “Why would Dio try to remove suspicion from himself if he didn’t know I suspected him? Besides, Dio has seen this poison at work before, it makes sense for him to recognise the symptoms. He could have been planning to make this trip for weeks, while I just happened to discover the note last night. Now that I look at it, its unlikely the poisoner is Dio. Its more likely to be one of the doctors.”

Speedwagon frowned.

“I don’t know Mr Joestar, it seems to me that if he could poison one father, why not the other?”

Jonathan sighed.

“Really Speedwagon, Dio’s not that person anymore. Besides, if you were in his position I’m sure you’d have done the same. If you’d watched your mother die to protect you, surely you’d have avenged her?”

Speedwagon nodded and Jonathan smiled slightly. In his eyes, while what Dio had done wasn’t right, he also understood his reasoning. Besides, Dio had changed and become a better person now.

“Very well Mr Joestar, if you’re certain. However,” Speedwagon held up a finger. “I’ll reserve my judgement for when I meet him.”

Jonathan nodded.

“Of course.”

He supposed that was fair enough

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Dio ran through Joestar Mansion, antidote gripped tightly in his hand. The hallways were a blur as he ran up stairs and around corners, towards the hall where his father’s rooms were. He skidded to a stop outside of his father’s room, reaching for the door handle.

Before he could turn it, the door creaked slowly open, a familiar figure standing in the doorway.

“Erina.” 

She smiled, turning to face him, closing the door behind her.

“Hello, Dio.”

Dio clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

“Let me through Erina.”

Her smile turned to a sneer, eyes cold and piercing.

“No. No, I don’t think I’ll let you through. Because,” She leant in and whispered in his ear. “That was the last dose.”

Dio’s eyes widened. Surely she couldn’t mean…?

Erina laughed softly, still speaking directly into his ear.

“That’s right Dio. If your father doesn’t get that antidote in a few minutes, he’ll die. How...tragic.”

Panic hit Dio. He had to move quickly. He reached around Erina, grasping for the door. She tried to push him back, but he was stronger. Still, he barely managed to open it. Pushing past her, he rushed into the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Father!” Dio called, rushing to the bedside.

“Dio…?” Lord Joestar tried to say more, but a coughing fit took over his whole body.

Desperate Dio looked around, spotting a glass of water next to the bed. He poured the antidote into the water and handed it to his coughing father.

“Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better. Please.” Still coughing, Lord Joestar nodded his head, taking the glass from Dio.

Dio anxiously watched as he drank it down, and breathed a sigh of relief as Lord Joestar finished the water, placed the cup down, and fell asleep.

“Now, that wasn’t very polite.” 

Dio turned to see Erina leaning against the doorframe, eyebrows raised.

“How am I supposed to frame you for murder now?”

Dio scrambled to placed himself in between his father and Erina, settling into a defensive position. He had to protect him from her. He didn’t know what her next steps would be, but Dio could be assured that it was something nefarious.

Erina laughed.

“How cute. Do you really think you could stop me if I tried to kill him? Please,” All traces of mirth left her face and she straightened up. “Don’t insult me. I don’t respond well to insults.”

Erina shut the door behind her, moving slowly towards the window. Dio watched her carefully, keeping his distance. She didn’t look particularly strong, but who knows what she had learnt in her time in India. It wouldn’t do well to underestimate her. 

Erina paused at the window, seeming to drink in the late afternoon sunlight. She sighed, then roughly pulled the curtains closed, plunging the room into near darkness.

For a moment, Dio lost sight of Erina in the blackened room. Then—just as Dio’s eyes had started to adjust—there was the sound of a match being lit and the room was bright again. When Dio’s eyes had readjusted to the bright light, Erina was standing beside Lord Joestar’s bed—knife pointed at his chest, Stone Mask on her face—a lit candle on the bedside table.

I have to stop her, what is she doing, why does she have the mask, what is going on here, what am I missing? Thoughts raced through Dio’s head and he reached out trying to reach Erina before she could do anything.

He was seconds too late.

Blood sprayed and the spikes shot into Erina’s head.

Dio froze. What was happening? Surely Erina knew what the Mask did? Unless…she knew something Jonathan’s seven years of study had failed to unveil. 

Erina seemed unaffected by the spikes piercing her brain. Her knees buckled momentarily before she righted herself, her presence growing even more menacing than it had been a moment ago. Casually, she tossed the knife onto the bed, Lord Joestar’s blood staining the white sheets red, droplets splattering the floor. 

Dio tried to process what was happening. Wasn’t the Mask an execution device, made to instantly kill its wearer? Clearly, Jonathan’s hypothesis had been wrong—Erina was still very much alive and was making her way across the room towards him.

“I wasn’t going to do this so soon, but even the best-laid plans go astray,” Erina removed the mask, tossing it to the floor as if it was nothing more than a stray hair she’d found on her skirt. “Now, Dio, I do believe you were planning to fight me? Something about protecting your father, I presume. Its a bit late to protect him, but I suppose vengeance would be the next best thing, hmm?”

His father was dead. 

Dio must be cursed. He was directly responsible for the deaths of every one of his parents. First his mother—who’s died protecting him from a beating—then Dario—who he’d killed with his own two hands—and now Lord Joestar. Just another person he’d failed. Another name on the list of deaths Dio was responsible for. He swallowed, gritting his teeth, and reached up to wipe away the tears rolling down his face. Erina would not get away with this. Whatever the mask had done to her didn’t matter, Dio would add her name to the list.

Hopefully, her name would be the last.

But Dio doubted it would be.