Abbacchio's Daughter Scenarios

Jailbreak Pt. 3

WARNING: Hinting at rape

You pressed your ear against the bottom of the metal vent. Through the whirring of miscellaneous mechanical things, you could hear someone. You tried to recognize the voice, but it wasn't a familiar one. Perhaps a good sign. 

"-...Yeah-. Don't worrry!...Yes, I'm aware. Okay, okay! We'll shoot them at 5 o'clock, okay? Fine, fine..." the officer down below slipped his phone back into his pocket. He mumbled something as he walked away, but you didn't quite catch it. 

"Ngh..." You turned your head back to find Diavolo, a hand tightly pressed against his forehead. His teeth were dug deep into his lip, partly smearing his black lipstick.

"Hey, are you good? I can't have you leaving me too," you nervously chuckled to cover your inner panic. He swallowed hard and wiped sweat from his forehead.

"...I'm...I'm fine. Just a bad feeling of nostalgia. Like, he's back...or something of the sort." He nodded his head. Frowning, you gave him a quick hug and decided not to let the question of 'who' be asked.

Your watch read 2:00 p.m., and the illusion of copious amounts of time left before the supposed shooting stuck itself inside your brain. The silence got louder as the two of you made your way through the ceiling vents. You hummed along to the tune of a song you had heard an American once play on the piano once. Something called, "Coffin Dance," or a name like that. You'd have to do research later if you didn't end up with a bullet in your head like the others would if you failed. 

Every once and a while, you would crawl over an opening in the vents where a grate would be placed. Occasionally, you would see a passing cop, sometimes carrying a dead body with them, or hauling someone off to their death or for extensive torture. This was no prison, but rather an underground organization, though, what their goal was remained a mystery. You were about to say something, but as you passed over a grate, a voice could be heard. So many voices to be heard, but this one stopped Diavolo in his tracks.

"N-NO, P-PLEASE! STOP IT! I-I DON'T WANT THIS, PLEASE! I-IT HURTS! NNGHAAAHH!!!" Terrible sounds emitted from below. Diavolo said nothing. lined himself up with the grate, and swiftly kicked down hard. The grate loosened and fell from the vent. It was like instinct. His eyes glimmered with concern as the cries of something familiar emitted from below.

"What are you doing?!" You harshly whispered. You jumped from the metal vent to follow him, only to find quite the scene. Darkness lingered in the room, with only the white light of a lamp used for interrogation. A young boy with the same color hair as Diavolo, but messily put into a ponytail picked himself off of the table the now unconscious man on the floor had bent him over. Blood was streaming from his fear-stricken face, and his shirt was ripped, shredded almost, clinging to his beat up body. His pants were loosely on, but clearly loosened by someone else.

"...Doppio?" Diavolo whispered in unbelief, his eyes locked on the boy.

"Boss?" His eyes were choked with tears, and his face crumbled into relief. He ran forward and launched himself at Diavolo, wrapping his arms around him. "You came for me...Y-you came..."he nearly collapsed in an emotional mess. Diavolo himself had to resist the urge to let a tear slide. "You never called me...Not once, but, you came for me...Y-you...-," Doppio shut his eyes, and let his body fall to the ground as stress overcame him.

"My sweet Doppio..." Diavolo mumbled and picked him up, setting him gently on the table. He turned to the unconscious man with a murderous sneer.

"W-wait. Diavolo, what are you-,"

His leg launched into the man's stomach.

You screamed, "Diavolo! You don't have to-,"

His quick stare at you silenced your mouth. "I saw him..." he launched another kick into the man's head. "His hands were on my Doppio..." he grabbed the man, who's eyes were slowly peeling open. "I'll kill him...HE'S A DEAD MAN!" Diavolo revealed King Crimson, and with one swift punch through the stomach, and a few more punches to his face for sheer enjoyment, he dropped the corpse to the floor. His final move was to break the neck of the man.

Your eyes were fixed to the ground. Everything else brought terror to your heart. "Well...that was bone chilling." You snickered at your own joke, but it was the only laugh you heard. Diavolo made his way to the table, and checked up on Doppio. You took a glance at your watch. 4:50 p.m..

"No, no, NO! Diavolo, we have to go! They're going to kill them in ten bloody minutes!" You searched desperately for a door and made your way out of the room. Diavolo stood still with Doppio. You groaned, "take him to the car! If you finish your emotional breakdown, come back in and give me a hand, okay?" He solemnly nodded, picked up his missing piece, and ran in the opposite direction of where you were heading.

You turned the corner, only to hear the sound of guns clinking, and preparing for fire. Eight men stood with guns ready. One by one, you saw the tortured bodies of your family and friends walked in. Giorno...his legs were so brutalized from bullets. You wondered how he was still on his feet. Bucciarati was the last to come in, his arms bloodied along with his ripped and bloody clothes. Abbacchio entered the room, the worst looking of all. You had to hide the view from yourself as you winced trying not to make noise.

"Leone!" Bucciarati turned to him, trying to wrap his arms around his husband. BANG! A shot was unloaded into his leg. He fell to the floor, wincing. The others looked like they desperately wanted to help, but stayed still in fear of what might happen. Abbacchio didn't even turn his head. "L-Leone..." Bucciarati whimpered as he regained his footing, this time staying still. Still, no response. Bruno turned back towards the firing line with a dead expression. Maybe he was a corpse standing at this point. 

"Ready your fire!" You heard a gravel-like voice call. 

I won't leave them to die again...You sprinted into the room and launched your left fist into the mouth of one of the officers. Creed took down three more and the chaos began as men were launching fists and feet into your body. How many snapping bones you heard, you weren't quite sure. Tibia honest, I wasn't expecting this level of pain. You laughed at your stupid joke as blood dripped from your mouth.

"FIRE ON THAT LITTLE BRAT!" you felt a plethora bullets launch into your chest, but you kept punching your way through. At this point, the others had joined you, pummeling and pounding the sadistic monsters until they were either dead or close to it. Your hand was gripping your bleeding chest, but there was nothing to be done at the moment. 

"GRAB ABBACCHIO, SOMEONE!" they did, and the nine of you ran for your lives. Weaving through the endless halls, avoiding gun fire, and keeping track of everyone was certainly a task, especially with your vision blurring. The car was in view. You felt your feet hitting the ground with each quick step, but something tripped you. Your face met the ground. And that was all you could take.

————

Roses. That was the sweet aroma filling your nose. Your (e/c) eyes snapped opened. Everything was dark which brought about a spasm of hyperventilation. Crickets were chirping and the moonlight was peering into your bedroom. You were safe. But, was everyone else? What had happened? Your chest wasn't aching with an unbearable burning pain, and the skin was healed, but how? Where was that...Rose smell coming from? Your head turned to the right, only to see Giorno, his head drooped in his chair along with his crossed arms. Sleeping quietly with a cup of tea on your nightstand, you identified him to be the source of more than just a rosy smell. If he healed your chest, that meant he had to stick his hand down your shirt...You felt strangely violated, but at the same time, your nose was beginning to bleeding. 

The way is golden hair shone in the moon reminded you of an angel. His pale skin reminded you of something like a vampire. He was so loving and kind to you...You felt helpless when you looked at him. Stupid bastard...

Imagine that. Liking the mafia boss... this isn't legit every 'original' fanfic...get real here (Y/n). But... you looked at your blood stained palm. A small smile arose as you kissed it and quietly blew it his way. Giorno's hand lifted instinctively and caught the kiss. He opened his eyes and looked at it suspiciously, throwing a smirk your way. You were sanguine in color. He put it in his pocket.

"H-hey! What was that for?!" You slowly slid into your covers further to avoid his embarrassing stare.

"I'm keeping it for when you're older..."and with that, his eyes shut, and he went to sleep again.

———

Stay tuned for Jailbreak: Aftermath and Aftermeth

Sorry for another update! I know it's really close to the other one, but I want to make up for the time I was away...