The Queen of Cups

From Another Perspective

The mansion was filled with an unbalanced tension. 

Resting in his armchair, Dio had just finished another feeding for the night. But this one was different. Instead of dining in a clean, dignified way, he played with his food, making a mess like a toddler.

 The silk sheets were stained red with blood and wine, the floors and walls were splattered with the blood of the poor men and women who fell victim to his charms.

 He silently watched as two of his servants cleaned up the mess before him.

Fuming to himself, problems had been plaguing his mind for the past week. Not only were the Joestars coming this way, but none of the stand users he sent were successful and two of them became traitors. 

Gripping the arms of his chair, his thoughts rambled on to the things he looked forward to.

The chance to finally defeat his enemies himself.

The chance to finally unlock true power.

The chance to finally feel her in his arms. 

Her.

The woman's many faces flashed in his mind, clear as day, intruding his thoughts.

Her face of determination, of relaxation when reading, and her face of wonder whenever they had an enlightened conversation.

He wanted to own that.

It didn't matter if a servant did it or not, but Dio knew that she was coming, either way, no matter what. His lips curled up in anticipation of what was to come. Eventually rising out of his chair, Dio got up to clean himself of the bloodstains. 

Piling the last body on top, the butler of the household looked on, unsure of what was on his master's mind. Is there truly a need to act this way? Ever since news of his enemies coming this way came, Dio's behavior had changed drastically.

Cleaning up now had become more of a drag. 

After disposing of the bodies, the butler was now dirty himself, stained with pink and red, reeking of bleach. Making it downstairs into the foyer, he found himself more aggravated seeing that he has to clean up more blood off the floor.

In the middle of the foyer, was an old woman wailing, dragging herself to the door, leaving a trail of blood behind.

“Enya…what on earth are you doing?”

Facing him, Enya sported a maniacal grin, blood leaking out of the many holes on her face.

“He's dead, Terrence! My son…!”

Kneeling, Terrence took out a handkerchief, handing it to her.

“I see…and I suppose your face explains how he died…such is the bond between mother and child.”

Terrence had no sympathy for her son's death, yet he could empathize with the grief of a mother ailing for her child. Centerfold never made a good impression on him.

He was simply a disgusting man.

Sniffling, Enya's demeanor changed into a murderous one.

“That Polnareff,” she growled, “he'll pay for this!”

Dashing out the door, crazed laughter followed as Terrence watched her form disappear. 

Indifferent to the situation, he wasn't completely sure if this was going to work at all. Getting up from the floor, he turned his direction to the trail of blood, knowing he has to go through the trouble of cleaning it up.

“What a bother…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was very uncomfortable.

It didn't make any sense.

Of anyone you could be sitting by, why was she here?!

It took everything in you to keep your cool, to keep yourself from lashing out at both Polnareff and the girl.

Nena, the girl who tackled you, chose to sit behind you on the bus to Varanasi. Not only that, you had to spend the next few hours listening to Polnareff ramble on and on about love, flirting with the girl shamelessly.

“Listen, I'm going to say this once!” he pointed a finger at her. “You look like a nice woman, intelligent, and pretty. Hol Horse is just a bad man who…”

Hol Horse this, Hol Horse that. Love this, love that. 

He blabbered on about how love makes people blind (how ironic) and how she should stick to good people (as if sticking with you would do any good). 

Noticing your irritation, Kakyoin directed your attention to the city of Varanasi and its jewel: the Ganges River. The sight was breathtaking. The many people praying and bathing in the water, the ancient buildings lined up around it. The sun shone effortlessly on the city, making it shine like the jewel it was.

It proved to you how rare this trip was. What you only saw in textbooks is right here before your eyes.

“Wow! This is amazing!”

Your eyes sparkled in excitement.  “Hopefully, we'll get through this town smoothly.”

Kakyoin nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that is if all of us can focus on the real reason we're here.”

Gesturing towards the Frenchman behind him, Polnareff was still bothering Nena, who was showing no interest in what he was saying at ALL.

In front of you, Joseph was busy muttering to himself about something, scratching his arm furiously.

“Hey, Hey, Old man!” you grabbed his arm hastily. “You're going to rip some skin off if you keep doing that!”

Upon further inspection, you found there to be a huge tumor-like infection on his arm. You swore it twitched.

“Ummm…Joseph? When did this appear?”

“It was itching after the memorial service then the itching got worse on the bus ride.”

“Well, you definitely need to see a doctor,” you were itching to touch it. “They're going to have to cut it off, it seems.”

“Cut it off!!!??? OH NO!!”

“Stop being a big baby, they'll put you on anesthesia or put some numbing, you won't feel a thing….maybe.”

Joseph wasn't taking any of your jokes. “What do you mean by maybe?! Don't you know my life is on the line?!”

You snickered at his dismay as he continues to be dramatic.

You'll be in and out of here in no time.