Sex With a Ghost

Prologue: What He Dreamt Last Night

The sheets cling to his sleeping form. He was hot, unbelievably hot, despite it being at night in Cairo and the fact that his heart, or rather Jonathan's, hadn't beaten in a little over a century. It was confusing, of course, to the vampire. This unbearable heat that ravaged his body like being raked through coals, like basking in the blasted sun. And then, as suddenly as it had came, it left. In its wake, a deep cold feeling enveloped Dio Brando, a vampire hellbent on the destruction of the entire Joestar lineage. Ever since he first met Jonathan, that damned Jonathan. An overgrown oaf lacking the resolve to be a true lord of the house. It was so easy to tear out his legacy from under him and become the perfect adopted son in the eyes of the idiotic George Joestar. George always was a naïve fool, easily poisoned and weakened. It ran in the family, it seemed, as Jonathan (all his thoughts led to Jonathan) was as big of a fool as his father. Jonathan was all that plagued his dreams, and haunted his nightmares. Even his darkest fantasies involved him. Laying in a bed with him, sleeping with him, holding him close. He kept the man's skull, too, as a trophy. This particular dream was one of him again. But, unlike most of the other dreams, he spoke.

"Dio," he states softly, "Dio, come here for a moment, if you'd please." He was cloaked in white sheets, looking as if he had gotten extremely confused while making the bed. He looked almost ethereal, wrapped in light. Unlike the sun, it was warm but not violent. It was the first warmth resembling the sun that had graced Dio's skin in years. He looked like an angel and beckoned him over with a gentle wave.

Dio approached against his own will. He found himself unable to speak. He knew he was dreaming and yet he had no control over it. In Jonathan's hands was a glass ball surrounded by purple vines with sharp thorns that dug into the Brit's palms, causing beads of crimson blood to drip down. Peering into the ball, Dio saw something peculiar: a pair of modern Joestars, that red haired Japanese boy, the Frenchman and the Egyptian, sitting in a hotel and playing cards. It couldn't be heard, but it could be discerned that the Frenchman lost and groaned out in anger. This caused Jonathan to let out a little chuckle, "Cute, aren't they? My grandson and my great great grandson, on an adventure to stop you. Did you know that you waking up activated my great granddaughter's stand? Her stand looks just like what I think Erina's would have looked like. She looks so much like Erina, too. I suppose being enamored with blonde's runs in the family."

Jonathan looked at Dio with a gaze he had seen before. A lot of the women he had slept with and a few of the men shared that gaze. It was a gaze he had seen the Joestar use before, but then it was only used on his wife Erina and after their winning rugby match. Rugby, now that was a throwback. He and Dio had been happy then, at least he would like to have thought so. In retrospect, Dio was probably hiding his true feelings for a while, much like how Jonathan hid himself away and engrossed himself with his research on the stone mask. Archeology had been his passion for a long time. Regardless of all the torment he suffered from the spiteful hand of Dio, he held no resentment. No ill will. Not an ounce of grievance in his large, idiotic body. "Please don't hurt them, Dio. They didn't do anything wrong. You can work together to help little Holly, you are capable of being redeemed."

"You're still a fool, JoJo," Dio groans, finally being able to speak, "An ignorant fool. I renounced my humanity long ago, there is nothing good I can do now. Hell waits for me after I'm dead."

Jonathan had that look on his face, one that everyone knew meant trouble. A face that said, "I'm about to say some dumb shit, so pay it no mind."

"Well," he started, "You are technically already dead, you know. Being a vampire is being undead and you've been a vampire for ages now."

"I know that, you moron," Dio spat.

"Calling yourself a moron won't exactly help, but I'll stay here if you need someone to yell at," Jonathan chimed in.