𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘂𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗱 ⌜𝗱𝗶𝗼 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿⌟

03. 𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 03. 𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦? 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦?

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗨𝗜𝗟𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗔𝗡𝗗 eerily silent. Rows and shelves of books lined the inside, towering over anyone who walked beneath them. A clock ticked above a desk, the time reading well over midnight. Pillars stood in the center, spiraling all the way to the ceiling. Lights hung down, dimly lighting the area. The arched ceiling caused any movements to echo, yet it remained silenced. The ceiling itself had a large mural painted on, no doubt one that took years to complete.

Nestled between two bookshelves, you sat, surrounded by books. Your eyes skimmed the pages, your brain absorbing the information you were reading. You closed that book, placing it to the side before grabbing another one. You’d done this for hours, since the moment the library closed, at 6 p.m. exactly. You’d read at least three dozen books by now, catching up on the past thirty years you’ve missed.

Jonathan Joestar died in a boat explosion in 1889. His new-wed wife, Erina Pendleton, escaped, pregnant, and saving a child from the flames. She gave birth to a boy, George Joestar II, who went on to marry the girl Erina saved from the crash, Elizabeth. They had a son, Joesph. However, after George died from an attack in the Air Force, Elizabeth disappeared, leaving the babe in the custody of his grandmother.

This boy...could he have known where Dio could be? You highly doubt the blonde bastard would be ballsy enough to go after the third generation, but there was the possibility that he did. From what you could find out, Joseph left England and went to New York with his grandmother. You could travel there, however, you would have to factor in the day. You could only move during the night when the sun was down.

A boat, perhaps? If you stayed below deck, you should be alright. You were small enough to easily hide away, and it’s not like they could hear you. From England to America was roughly around 3000 nautical miles, which was equivalent to 3452 land miles. The average ship travels around 23 miles per hour, so divide 3452 by 23, which is roughly 150 hours, which is about 6 and a quarter days.

Placing the books in their original spots, you slipped from the window you entered through, leaving the library. Cloak swaying behind you, you walked down the street, hand tracing the chain of your pocket watch as you thought. There were many different ways you could think of this and many different outcomes. If you traveled by ship, you could risk being exposed to sunlight, however, if you were to travel--

“Y/n!”

You jumped at the sound of your name, whipping around to face the voice. Your gaze landed on the shaggy-haired boy, who rushed up to you, repeating your name in a shaking tone.

“What’s the matter with you?” You frowned. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“It’s Michael,” He breathed. “Somethin’s happened to him. I-I don’t know what to do,”

Your lips turned into a frown. “Where is he?”

“Dad’s...but Y/n, everyone else is there. None of us know what to do. H-He’s acting...w-weird...l-like a sick animal,” He murmured. You flipped your hood up.

“Let’s go.”

You followed him back home. You didn’t want to, but your compassion was too much.osw You’d seen these children grow up--you raised them. If something was wrong with them, and even after Harry swore on his life, you knew it was serious.

“Helen! I’ve brought a doctor!” Harry exclaimed, pushing open the door.

“He’s in here! Hurry!” She called back. You followed after him, eyes narrowing. What the hell was that smell?

Suddenly, Harry rushed forward and caught the dark-haired girl as she was knocked back from the room. You ran inside of the room, immediately spotting the boy. He was standing in the middle of the room, hand over the side of his neck. He saw you and stumped forward with the intent to drive the hammer in his hand down at you. You caught his wrist; his movements were so sluggish and delay it was child’s work. He dropped the weapon after you hit the pressure point in his wrist, then the spot behind his ear, catching him as he fell.

“Everyone, get out.”

“Come on, Helen, you heard the doctor,” Harry said.

“B-But...Harry...th-that sou-sounds like…”

“Come on now, don’t be foolish. Let’s get you some water. You’re tired, darling,” He said, flashing you a glance before leaving, closing the door behind him. You laid the boy on the bed, moving his limp hand from his neck. A puncture wound?

Michael couldn’t have...no...right?

You checked over him for any additional wounds. You cleansed the cut, and much to your own disliking, you made the wound a little bigger with your nail. You squeezed some of his blood into a vial, before cleaning it again and closing it. As you were weaving the sutures through his skin, the door creaked open.

“It’s me,” Harry whispered. “May I come in?”

You nodded. He crept inside, softly closing the door with a click. He walked towards you, spotting the vial on the dresser.

“Is that his?” He asked quickly.

“If you think I’m going to consume it, you’re wrong,” You said, placing a bandage over the wound. “I’m taking it to the college to analyze it under a microscope. I’m going to test it against some of the blood in his finger.”

You pricked the top of his finger and dripped it into a different vial. “What for?”

“His behavior is different, but I’ve seen these kinds of wounds before. I’m going to compare,” You said.

“Compare it? Against what?” He asked.

“My own blood,” You replied, standing up. Carefully, you placed each vial into a pocket.

“Now what the hell are you going to do that for?” He frowned. “You don’t think he’s a vampire too, do you?”

“No, I don’t believe he is,” You said, opening the window. “But the wound is consistent with such. I don’t think Michael has turned, and I don’t think he will. It’s almost as if his body is rebelling against it, and is like fighting an infection.”

“Can you even get into the college?” He asked, pulling the sheet over Michael’s chest.

“I can get into anywhere I want,” You said, quirking a brow. “I’m the best thief in London. Just because I was dead for a few years doesn’t make any of my skills lack off. I’ll be back in a few days. Until then, keep that wound covered, and Michael hydrated. The best we can hope for is to flush out the disease.”

“Alright. I’m counting on you, Y/n.”

“Yeah, I know you are.”

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 03. 𝗘𝗡𝗗
𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗘: 20 𝗠𝗔𝗬 2021
𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗗