Chapter 39: A Familiar Face

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I couldn't find the artist but it gives me serotonin 🥲
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Something was wrong. Something was... gone. No, someone was gone. The witch could feel it. The despair clawing its way through her mind, through her body. The absolute emptiness of someone that was once there, and then isn't.

"My son..." She murmured, her sultry voice flooded with misery. "My dearest son..."

The witch crumbled to her knees on the hard stone floor, staring blankly at the limestone walls. Her body was weak. Tired.

"J. Geil..."

She screamed in agony as holes were punctured into her flawless skin, seemingly by nothing. There were no people or weapons near. Just the screeches of sorrow and pain tearing through the woman's throat. Blood trickled from the wounds, coating her tan skin with a dark red.

"My precious boy!" She cried to the walled sky. "You perished with your body covered in wounds like these!"

She fell to her hands, her armlets clanking together against her thin wrists. She screamed once again, though not just in pain, in anger. In fury.

"I can feel it. I suffer the same agony, my son! You were magnificent as you fought for Dio-sama, my dearest J. Geil!"

Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her own trembling form.

"How could they do it?" She muttered furiously. "How could they murder such a noble and pure soul? They must have done something underhanded."

A deafening silence came over the room as she rocked herself. So deafening, that ringing filled the witch's ears. Even her sharp breaths of pain were kept quiet. Then, the woman began to giggle. That giggle turned into chuckles. Then, into cackles, overflowing with pure insanity.

"Damn them!" She cried, shooting to her feet and planting both of her hands on the round table in front of her. Blood rolled down her arms and face and legs. She looked to her left hand. The left hand that was a right. The hand that her son had been passed. She smiled. "They will atone for their crime with a stand that brings an unhurried death. My stand...

"Justice!"
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"Thank you, Jojo," You smiled gratefully as you turned over your shoulder.

Noriaki and Jotaro were with you in your shared hotel room. Jojo sat cross-legged behind you as he finished stitching up your wound with a suture kit Joseph carried around with him. He had used Star Platinum to make sure there were no mistakes. Noriaki sat in front of you for moral support, wincing when you reacted to the needle piercing your skin. Of course, you felt no pain at the needle thanks to your Angel, but it was an odd and unwelcome sensation when it was pulled through.

"No problem," Jotaro grunted and rose from the mattress. He faced away from you as Noriaki helped to pull on your uniform top.

Although you had taken a shower, you still needed to disinfect the wound. You figured heat was as good as anything, and with that, you came in an abundant supply. You heated up the area of the wound just enough to kill the bacteria, though not enough to burn your own shirt. Noriaki commented on how warm it was getting as you headed out the door to the lobby, and you laughed under your breath.

Joseph and Polnareff were waiting for the three of you in front of the hotel. Joseph had finally acquired a vehicle, a large Jeep, and was planning to drive it all the way to the Indo-Pakistan border.

"Alright!" Joseph exclaimed, gesturing to the Jeep. "Let's get going! I wanna get out of this damn village."

"Agreed," You muttered as you clambered into the back seat.

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