Deeper Than Blood, Heavier Than Gold(Under Editing)

Capitolo I. Giorno Giovanna

"Giorno? Boss? You okay in there? You haven't... Touched your breakfast out here.", asked Guido Mista, his right-hand man and trusty comrade with a sharp knock the mahogany door of his bedroom.

"I'm fine, Mista. I'm fine. I just didn't want to eat right now." He lied. His stomach churning from hunger and growling with an audible sound.

"Right now?! Giorno, you've been like that for the past few weeks." Mista said in an as a "matter of fact,"-tone with his arms crossed across his chest.

"I said it. I don't have the appetite. Did I stutter, Mista?", Giorno said, irritated with Mista always knocking on his door to force him outside for almost a week now.

"Fine! You rot in there, stronzo.", Mista mumbled under his breath then turning around to walk away.

Giorno is not going outside. Not after what had happened to him from the past few weeks.

It happened when his weird changes showed. He crept inside Trish's bedroom and tried to stab her while she's sleeping in the middle of the night. Giorno gained consciousness of his actions and stopped himself before his blade pierce deeper into her skin. He pulled out the knife and left a long and thin cut on her neck. She didn't wake up, fortunately for Giorno. Then, the night after that he unconsciously tried to suffocate Mista with a pillow luckily, he gained control and fled from Mista's room before he could wake up.

That night, he became afraid of himself. He tried to eat normal food in hopes to get rid of the urges to consume flesh and blood. But his taste buds refused to take it in and made the food he ate to taste like rancid shit so he would vomit it out. It's been a while since he has eaten. Water is the only thing that is palatable and tolerable for him. His weight dropped noticeably became pale. Every time he looks at the mirror, he would see a fluctuating reflection of a scrawny, pale and dishevelled person with sunken, tired turquoise eyes which brought him to smash the mirror into bits.

Trish and Mista were very much worried. He hasn't gone outside for weeks.

"Mista, we should come inside his room, now. He needs us.", Trish said with worry in her tone.

Mista turned his gaze towards Trish and stood up from his seat as he pulled her hand. "Let's do it. Come on," he said, for he was getting annoyed and worried by Giorno's attitude.

She nodded, and then the two went to his room. They took a sharp turn and ended up on his doorstep.

"Trish. Open the door with your stand. You should be able to soften the lock."

Trish agreed and then summoned her stand- Spice Girl. Her stand is the stand that could change the surface, malleability, and structure of anything that she could touch.

The lock melted, which let them inside. "Mista, I want you to ready your stand," Trish whispered.

"Why?" Mista asked.

"You know that there's definitely wrong about him now. We must be cautious, an enemy stand must cause this."

Mista gulped and nodded.

The two felt a very heavy aura inside his room. It's cold and unnerving, like an abandoned cemetery in the dead of night. There lay Giorno on his bed, rolled up in his blankets and shivering. They never saw him like that before.

Trish moved further towards his bed but even before she could place a finger on his long and dishevelled lock of hair, Giorno caught Trish's hand with such grip that her hand bled out under his grip.

His hands were pale and cold, just like a corpse. His nails were long, black and sharp that it can slit a bloody wound. Trish let out a loud blood-curdling scream from his grip. Mista tried to remove Giorno's grip, but it's futile.