Best Laid Plans

1888: Truth and Lies

Jonathan was in shock.

His father…was dead? Had the antidote failed?

“Careful Mr Joestar,” Speedwagon whispered, laying a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything rash.”

Jonathan noticed that his free hand was clenched into a fist, knuckles white. He breathed deeply, relaxing his hand. Speedwagon was right—he couldn’t afford to be rash.

“What happened, Dio?” He tried to keep his voice soft, comforting—like he was speaking to a spooked animal.

Dio shook his head, burying his face in his hands.

“I—I was too late…I thought…” Dio’s laughed, an ugly choking sound. “I thought I could save him, but I was too late.”

Jonathan felt his throat constrict.

“The—the antidote? It didn’t work?”

Dio laughed again—but this time it was more of a harsh barking noise—and he lifted his face, tears shining in the candlelight.

“Oh, it worked. Perfectly. But,” Dio stopped, looking at Jonathan. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what happened.”

Jonathan frowned. That didn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t he believe Dio?

Dio stood, straightening his posture, wiping tears from his face.

“Come, JoJo, and your friend too. I’ll lead you to Father.” He turned, muttering something under his breath so quietly Jonathan missed it.

Speedwagon didn’t.

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“She should be gone by now.”

Speedwagon froze when he heard those words. That meant there was someone else mixed into this plot. Who could it be? He wondered as he followed Mr Joestar and his brother down the hall. Could it be the poisoner?

Speedwagon was now reasonably sure that Dio wasn’t the one responsible for Lord Joestar’s poisoning and death. He prided himself on his ability to read people, and he could tell that Dio was truly upset about the Lord’s death and blamed himself for whatever had happened after the antidote had been administered. But if Speedwagon was sure about one thing it was this: No matter what happened, Dio was not their villain. He was convinced of that.

Dio opened a bedroom door and Speedwagon followed the brothers through the door.

It was a large bedroom, lit by the light of a single candle on the bedside table. In the bed lay an older man—Lord Joestar—blood staining the sheets, a puddle gathered on the floor. At the foot of the bed, there was a strange mask—that looked like was carved from stone—and a shining dagger.

Dio had moved to stand by the window, looking sadly across the room. Mr Joestar had rushed to his father’s body, his face grief-stricken.

“Dio,” Jonathan’s voice was tight. “What happened here.”

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Dio looked across the bed at Jonathan sadly.

“I rejected my humanity, JoJo.” He opened his mouth wide, showing JoJo the pointed fangs that had grown there. “The mask, its not an execution device. It unlocks a power hidden in the brain, turning the user into some kind of vampire.”

JoJo looked confused for a moment, then understanding seemed to dawn.

“You—Are you telling me that you killed our father, to become a vampire?” Dio could see the rage radiating off of JoJo, filling the room with a menacing aura. He simply nodded.

JoJo couldn’t know about Erina. It would kill him if he ever found out that the woman he loved would do anything to get her clawed hands on the Joestar fortune. So, he would hide it from him. Take the blame onto himself and deal with Erina quietly. If that meant that he’d never see JoJo again—he’d do it. To Dio, his family’s happiness was the most important thing.

He turned his gaze from JoJo and saw the expression on his friend’s face. The man in the bowler hat was frowning at Dio like he knew that Dio was lying. Like he could sense there was more to the story.

Dio never got to ask him about it though, because JoJo tackled him and he had to fight for his life.

Around him, the mansion burned, along with seven years of happiness.

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Erina watched Joestar Mansion burn down from a safe distance. She’d kicked Dio off of her the second he’d paused to listen to Jonathan returning home, and retreated out the bedroom window.

She ran to her father’s hospital—faster than she’d ever run before—to prepare a hospital bed for Jonathan. 

This was another opportunity, the fortune was once again within her reach.

But first, she had to do something about this damned thirst.

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Dio felt himself being dragged from the burning wreckage of Joestar Mansion. It was still night, but the moon had set and the stars were obscured by the smoke.

“—ando. Mr Brando!” JoJo’s friend, the man in the bowler hat, was leaning over him. Dio groaned in response. He was in so much pain.

The man looked relieved.

“You’re alive! Quick,” He helped Dio stand, then practically carried him to a waiting carriage. “It will be daylight soon, and I doubt that will be good for you.”

Dio could barely nod in agreement, it was taking all of his energy to not use his talons to suck the blood from the man. He flopped into the carriage seat that he was placed in and looked at the man in the seat across from him.

“Thank you, Mr…?” Dio managed to wheeze the words out of his burnt lungs.

“Speedwagon. Robert E.O Speedwagon. And there’s no need to thank me. I couldn’t just stand by while an innocent man burnt alive.”

Dio wheezed out a coughing laugh.

“Innocent? Are you sure you saved the right man?”

Speedwagon fixed him with a piercing gaze.

“You might be many things, Mr Brando, but you are innocent in this case. You are not responsible for Lord Joestar’s death, no matter what you may have said to Mr Joestar in the mansion.”

JoJo, Dio thought, he can’t find out I’m alive. I have to stop Erina myself.

“Where—where is JoJo right now?” Dio questioned.

“I took him to the village hospital, the nurse promised to take good care of him.”

Dio’s eyes widened.

“You took him to Pendelton Hospital?” 

When Speedwagon nodded, confused, Dio slumped even further into his seat.

Unknowingly, Speedwagon had played right into Erina’s hands.