Chapter 1: Sleep With the Devil and Then You Must Pay
Bonnie Brando stroked the hair strand that now was blonde. A short bang to the left side, shining next to the dark purple neighbors all around it. It looked perfectly natural, like a really good dye found its way to her without her knowledge. She touched the short hairs the way one touches a deep wound, then pulled it as if it were a sticker and not rooted to her scalp. She thought it must’ve been a prank, but by who? Dad was in England on a business trip, Mom didn’t like hair dye, and no siblings in the house left the only culprits as a very cognitive sleepwalking version of herself or the dog. She decided to google cases similar to her’s during her first period, 8:00 was getting dangerously close and she hadn’t even gotten in the car yet.
Pulling into the parking lot, Bonnie grabbed the flash drive her group’s project was on. Each group in the class had been assigned a different Steel Ball Run racer to study, she had been lucky enough to cover her ancestor Diego Brando. Opening the car door, she saw her friends and partners Chandler, Duke, and McNamara chatting in a more mature manner than most sophomores would use. They were gathered around Duke’s car, a beat-up challenger hand-me-down from his father, with eyes resembling a funeral attendant's. Duke’s check had a tear rolling down it slowly. Bonnie moved quickly to them with oppressive curiosity at what the macabre subject was.
“Everyone ok?” Bonnie entered the conversation darting her eyes between each member
“God, Bonnie it's so fucked just totally fucked.” Duke choked out before cracking his neck and letting another tear roll.
“What is? What happened?” Bonnie’s voice was tense now, she pushed her words out without delay.
“Duke was supposed to pick up the Mercury kids and give them a ride today. When he got there the door to the house was open and inside was, fuck I don’t know how to say it. Duke?” Chandler had his hand on Duke’s back and a drained facial expression that got worse as he spoke.
“Their parents, I couldn’t even identify them. One had their head down to their chest just missing. It's like someone carved them out, left the arms hanging by what remained of their shoulders. The other was just the bottom half of a person collapsed on the floor.” Duke was now fully in tears, snot barreled out of his nose and pooled on his upper thighs.
“What about their kids? What about Jacky, was Jacky ok?” Bonnie imagined Jacky, her friend since grade school, balled up on the ground and unidentifiable with huge sections cut off, as she spoke.
“He wasn’t there. Louie was though, the poor kid was just in his bed crying about, shit man, about the sounds. The sound he heard scared the fuck out of him, just totally spooked. I couldn’t get a word out of him, not even the police could.” Duke scratched at his wrist and spit a large clump of spit onto the ground. Every word must’ve burned on its way out.
“Go home Duke, I’ll cover your part of the presentation. I don’t think anyone here would say your in good shape.” McNamara talked while taking a 20 out of his wallet. “Take this for gas, call me once you’re home.”
Duke took the bill and walked into his car without words, pulled out and drove away. The group of now three walked solemnly into class, they were close together as if afraid the be attacked at any time.
The day seemed to rush past, contrasting with how Bonnie’s thoughts seemed to stick around forever with their constant nagging questions. She wanted to know where Jackie was, what Louie heard, why their parents were killed in such a manner and, of course, why it had to happen here. She got home before her parents, as always, and went straight to her room. She went to her closet and retrieved a Nike shoebox, inside were a collection of treasures from middle school. The one she took out was an artsy college she had made with Jacky during their emo phases. It was black paper with lyrics written in white crayon, pictures of them in black and white, album art, and a shard of glass they splashed red paint on to symbolize blood. She stared like it held some secret clue about what happened in that house she felt would haunt Duke for years to come. But it didn’t hold any answers, but it did reflect a new question. In the reflection of the glass shard, she could see her head but it seemed alien to her. Like staring at a counterfeit of a famous painting, it was like something small was off by a little bit that most people would miss. But the problem seemed to grow the more she looked at it the way a creeping fear does, it was like some invisible yet gigantic blemish had caught her attention for just a second but the red splash made it difficult to make out. She got up and went to the bathroom, she didn’t have to turn on the light to notice it. The light from her bedroom didn’t sink into her head the way it always had, it danced off it. The whole of her hair had turned blonde, the same shade as that first bang had. Her scream caught the attention of her dog who came to her side. Bonnie held her dog for comfort, she didn’t even notice that her nail had poked into his back, nor that his eyes dilated at the same time.
Bonnie threw her hands onto her scalp and scanned for any sort of bumps or pests, anything she could pin the color change on but nothing seemed to stick out. Bringing her hands back, she saw the small arrowheads her nails had become. Bonnie was shocked by this but also saw the opportunity of clipping them to be good for stress-relieving. She had to actually put a decent amount of force into clipping them similar to clipping her dog’s.
Why is everything today so weird? She thought to herself as she heard the door to the house open then close. How the hell do I word my problem to my parents? I woke up with a gold spot and it spread? I’ve suddenly lost control over my own damn hair?
She spent a while longer studying the change, it went to her roots and even the hair that wasn’t on her head. Pulling out her phone she typed in “hair color changing naturally” and found an article describing another person going blonde. The writer mentioned that it took a few years though, not a couple of hours. The same problem was found within each article she clicked on the subject, this was not something anyone had seen before apparently.
Mom, I promise I didn’t use any dye, you can see that it's in my roots and dye doesn’t do that. I just woke up with one patch and it grew I guess? She shook her head at the craziness of that sentence. Maybe it’s just a one in a million late puberty thing? Thinking about it made her hot and sweaty. Of all the things she could lose control of, why was it her own damn hair? No one else in her family (at least the part she’d met) had blonde hair or even anything lighter than dark purple. Deep breaths, it’s just hair .
She wasn’t going to get anywhere trying to think up an explanation, it was just best to face the music and think on the fly. Bonnie opened the door and walked to the staircase between the floor her room was on and the entry room. One deep breath and she quickly went down the stairs and to her mom.
“Hey, mom…” Bonnie began before her mom was even in sight, “I have a major hair issue.”
“What's wrong?” She said turning around and getting his first look. “Did you dye it without permission?” Her stern tone warranted a slight fear.
“It's not dye, it goes down to the roots see?” Bonnie displayed the proof quicker than she thought she could. “It started today and just spread so fast.”
Bonnie’s mother walked over and tugged on the hair, testing for if it was a wig. She then stepped back in disbelief, this was unexplainable. She circled her daughter while checking every hair and root. Then she stepped back again and observed with her head cocked and lips pursed. Bonnie stared at her mother with no guess at what would come, she feared the lack of control she had over this entire ordeal. The fear was released when her mother began to giggle, giggle and then let out a small laugh.
“Stay here while I get something.” Bonnie’s mother walked downstairs after taking off her work heels. Sounds of carboard boxes accompanied the several minutes she searched. She came back up with an old frame surrounding a picture of stoic looking young man on horseback, his blue uniform and khaki riding pants were caked in dirt as if they’d gone forever with no wash. His riding helmet was broken but nevertheless, he held it in his hand with pride. Next to him, on the ground near his horse, was a young woman with pink hair and a pink and black military uniform with gold lining. She also had a helmet in her hand but it was intact. Bonnie noticed why her mother brought it up, the man’s hair color matched her’s down to the shade. She also saw the trophy in his other hand and the wreath around his horse, clearly, he had won some race or sport.
“Is this, Diego?” Bonnie had heard of her famous relative but never seen a color photograph. Did they even have color photos back then?
“It is, it's him and his future wife a day after he won the Steel Ball Run. A sponsor paid very good money to get a color photo, an expensive process at the time, because he thought the event deserved it. He even got a Russian chemist to run the operation after being taken away by his color photos.”
“But didn’t Diego die over a century ago? He’s such a distant relative, it can’t have a connection can it?” Bonnie was still in awe at the striking similarity.
“To be honest I don’t know what caused this Bonnie. I’ll set up a doctor’s appointment to check this out, I just thought you’d like this.” Her mother spoke as she gave her the photo. “Just let me know if anything happens or if you feel sick.”
Same notes as before, please tell me what I can improve on! <3
Bonnie took the photo with her upstairs, she just stared and stared at it. Was there some gene passed down and lying dormant until now? She set down the photo and went to her bathroom to relieve herself. Walking in and sitting down, she turned her head and saw that her dog was still by the door where she last saw him.
“Ozzy, what are you doin’?” She loved to baby talk her puppy and he normally responded excitedly right away. But now, he just sat like a statue. “Ozzy are you ok? Can you come here?” With that, Ozzy sprinted over and stopped on a dime next to Bonnie.
Bonnie just giggled and scratched his ear, Ozzy was a silly dog by nature. When she was finished, Bonnie went to wipe but stopped suddenly went a sharp pain bit her. Her fingernails had already returned to their state of arrowhead like points within half an hour of her cutting them. She couldn’t make sense of it but finished wiping, with great care, and washed her hands before cutting them again with a knot of fear growing in her. She patted her leg and Ozzy followed her to her room where she let him up on the bed with her. She took out her laptop and began to finish her english essay when the photo of Diego wrangled her back in. A new color was present now, a deeper yellow made itself present behind Diego’s head. First, it was a blur, but as she blinked and examined closer it came into focus. It was a man in the most bizarre hat and armor she’d ever seen. He clearly had large muscles on him, and his golden helmet kept a defined jawline and strange triangular top. Were those oxygen tanks on his back or some jetpack? Why did his outer frame bear such large padding all along with it?
Bonnie suddenly had a much larger question, why was this man floating? She doubled checked the photo, it wasn’t a weird angle and there was nothing he was standing on. This man was floating. Did her mother know about this? Who was he and how did he do this? She turned to her laptop again and searched for more photos of Diego, and the mystery grew. In some photos, the yellow man was still there and standing behind Diego, but in others, he wasn’t there at all. She began downloading the photos and sorting them to try and find some date where the yellow man appeared. It took around an hour of thorough research but it seemed like the man began to appear in photos after the second stage of the Steel Ball Run but nowhere online could she find any mention of this figure. It was like he was a total hallucination.
Bonnie reviewed her notes over and over, looking for some mistakes. She tried term after term in google but no results came, she even asked her mother who just laughed like it was an odd joke. This scary monster-like ghost was totally invisible. Bonnie made herself dinner and went back upstairs to continue looking into Diego as if it would yield some results, a fruitless endeavor as had been proved when she noticed Ozzy was acting totally off. Ozzy’s hair stood on end and, had he gotten bigger?
“Oz?” Bonnie stuck out her hand and moved slowly towards her furry baby who now had teeth like razors. “What wrong buddy?” She could feel that knot of fear from before return to its former power and then some.
As her hand reached outwards toward Ozzy, Bonnie found that not only were the nails back but that they had brought with them thick hairs along her entire limb. Bonnie froze and felt her head go light while her vision dimmed, this was not real to her. She shook herself back into things and decided she needed help from someone that wasn’t her mom. Picking up her phone she called Chandler, a medical geek if there ever was one, and explained what was going on.
“You finally hit puberty?” Chandler giggled quietly as he said it.
“I’m serious. What the fuck is going on?” Bonnie felt like crying out of humiliation and fear, only amplified from the sudden growls and barks from Ozzy.
“No, you aren’t. This is the lamest prank call I’ve ever heard.” Her last-minute medical advisor clearly wasn’t up to the task.
“Are you home right now Chan?”
“Yeah, currently trying to clip my super nails.”
“I’m coming over, I don’t care if you don’t want me to I have to show you this and get out of this house.” The walls of her home felt like an alien world of horrors she had to escape from.
“Sure, cool. Bring Toto as well and maybe we can all go for a run at the dog park.” Chandler hung up with that response.
After the day she had, Bonnie would’ve killed Chandler if he hadn’t had the same sober story to start it off with. As her initial anger grew after the hand up, Ozzy seemed like he was ready to kill but Bonnie had tuned him out at this point. Putting on her shoes she began to think about Chandler must also be shaken up and out of the norm and she began to simmer down as Ozzy started to stop growling and crawling at the bedspread. Bonnie lived not a mile from her destination and began her walk while keeping her arms and hands concealed by an old hoodie. 10 meters into the walk and she heard the sound of breaking plastic and little feet sprinting, Ozzy had burst from the screen covering his doggie door and come running for his master accompanied by Bonnie’s mother opening the door with a look of shock and surprise. The mother and daughter glanced to the dog and then exchanged a look and shared feeling of “Guess he really really needs a walk.”
And the mystery builds OwO. Same request as the last two!
Ozzy gave Bonnie’s shadow a run for its money as he followed without distraction. His behavior contrasted this good behavior as he snarled and snapped at all other life that crossed their path, but he never gave chase. Even as a squirrel ran out from under a pile of leaves the hound just watched it sprint past. While most pet owners would be thrilled at this obedience, Bonnie just felt her knot grow and twist her organs into itself. Her steps grew shakier the closer she came to Chandler’s home, at the final steps to the front door she needed to debate them into moving.
I feel like such a jackass. Bonnie was obviously aware she had all the proof needed to convince him, he couldn’t deny the hair and claws that warped her appearance into something so much more removed from herself. She knew that Ozzy’s slight transformation gave away something unnaturally convincing to even to the most stubborn of skeptics. So why was she so scared?
Her hand raised to hit the doorbell but froze with fear. Her bowels felt like giving way at any moment while her breathing and legs agreed to tremble like enraged tectonic plates. Her eyes fluttering and darting about was a give away that her head was filled with thoughts flying in and out like a well-ordered subway station, this foreign invasion of her mind by thoughts that came from outside paranoia that secretly was cranked out by her brain. Sensations of cold and itches flew through her chest like billions of spears as the whole world seemed to become so much more overwhelmingly observable. She tried to move her fingers to the doorbell but it felt like snapping bones with each attempt. Though her fingers were covered by the hoodie she could still see them twitch along with her arm. This burning cold sensation of a yet unnamed emotion held her in bondage as tears ran down her face and splattered the welcome mat below. But then, she felt nothing.
Everything around her blossomed into a more painted and beautiful version of what she had known providing a breathtaking scene while all her pains and stress flowed out faster than any river or waterfall. Just as she began to feel like a woman reborn, Chandler opened the door and wiped his eyes.
“Come to show me Fido’s fearsome force?” Chandler had been rehearsing that one.
Bonnie didn’t even speak, she felt a gush of bravery force her into his home with Ozzy barreling in behind her. She closed the door and marched in front of him as she ripped off her hoodie, her tank top could not hide the mounting hair. Chandler was speechless, but his gaze was not hinged to her arms.
“What kind of fucking freaky mask is that!” Chandler began to pant and grip at this chest while his feet picked up but didn’t move.
“Grrorgh” Bonnie gripped her throat and then shot her hands back, they weren’t hands at all but two large paws.
She tried to speak but couldn’t make anything more than growls and barks. She looked down at her body and noticed her hunched spine was unchangeable. Her chest no longer had breasts, just fur coating her from the neck down, she couldn’t even see her tank top. Her pants also seemed to have been lost, had the fur burst through them? Then came the worst, her shoes were gone and what rested at her base were two large dog feet. She again tried to scream but only managed to yelp like a dog beaten, as her fear grew she felt like she was about to fall.
“Y-your clothes. They…” Chandler didn’t finish his sentence, he fell to the floor and then scrambled to run away.
Bonnie hit the floor as well, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t stand upright. She threw her head around and stopped when her gaze met a rabid beast that laid behind her. Its hair was standing and was salt and pepper. Teeth, no, haphazardly placed knives were present through its snarl and it drooled onto the ground. Bonnie noticed something stuck in its neck, a metal bar that read “Oz”. It was sucked inside of the beast as Bonnie was trying to comprehend that that same name tag was present on Ozzy’s collar. Was this monster, Ozzy?
Bonnie didn’t have enough time to realize what was happening, she smelled Chandler coming back towards the entryway. She walked around the corner into the kitchen, the beast behind her, and gazed up at the barrel of a Colt Python. Chandler was handling it and shook like a leaf, his feet visually begged him to run.
“Bon you better cut this shit out or I’m firing. I’m serious this isn’t funny this isn’t even something you should be able to pull off!” Chandler had tears welling up as his two index fingers wrapped around the trigger.
The beast behind Bonnie leaped onto Chandler, knocking the gun from him and pinning him to the floor with a vomit-inducing impact. No thought had to pass by Bonnie for her to act, she slammed into the big bad wolf, sandwiching him with the fridge. This gave Chandler enough time to scramble away before Bonnie came bounding as if she could explain it to him or be comforting in this form. Chandler grasped around for anything to protect himself and found a candle holder, it may have been older than him but even the engraved antique was better than nothing. Bonnie stopped in her tracks and tried to howl out a plea, then over her head flew the beast towards Chandler as if the previous tackle hadn’t affected it at all. As it came down for another attack, out of the air a suit of red armor trimmed with gold seemed to just grow around Chandler. As the wolf made contact, it just as fast flew backward through a wall. Thought the armor had moved during its reversal, Chandler hadn’t even twitched. His hands still faced towards Bonnie, wielding the candle holder that bared his family name: Polnareff.
Y'all know the drill.
Chapter 5: Hit Me With Your Best Shot
Chandler turned to see the beast lying on its side, wounded after flying straight through the wall. Panting from fear and sweating from the dire situation, he got back up slowly and straightened himself out as the armored apparition once again overlayed itself with him.
“I don’t want to it to hurt you Bon.” Though the armor fully covered him, Chandler’s emotional state was easy to read. “This ability is called my stand, you can see it can’t you? That means you must have one of your own which would explain this dog act.” Chandler was stoic in his voice but cracks of wobbles managed to leak out as clear evidence he was still shaken. “Call off this transformation, if it is a stand power, and we can work out how to control it.”
Bonnie felt her lips twitch and curl with fear while she listened to Chandler’s breathing slowly come back into rhythm. As it did, his stand seemed to become more opaque. Bonnie could still sense the presence of the beast from before (was it also part of her stand? Did she have a stand?) and panted hard with fear.
“Calm your breathing. If you stay afraid or stressed your stand will stay up and then I might have to take desperate measures. Just calm down Bon.” Chandler’s stand had a light red consistent through it with silver linings on the outsides of its armor and gold outlining of what would be its muscles.
Bonnie closed her eyes and tried to get calm. All I have to do is breathe, if I breathe I can have control again. Just breathe. As she repeated this to herself, she could feel her body shrink in size and her bones snap back into place. When she finally opened her eyes again, she was human again.
“Has anything cut or pierced you lately? Bite marks appear anywhere? Did you find anything that resembled a corpse?” Chandler called off his stand and knelt down to Bonnie’s level. “Has anyone else in your family had strange abilities or behavior?”
“I, I don’t know. What the hell just happened, Chandler what the hell was that? What was that other monster?” Bonnie began crying as snot poured down her nose onto the ground. Terror gripped her while a safety blanket of ignorance and doubt hugged her gently, almost as gently as Chandler was hugging her.
“Its ok Bon, I think you have the same thing my family does. It won’t hurt you, it can’t hurt you, it's like a superpower. They’re called stands and they’ve been a part of humanity for centuries.”
“What are you even talking about? I turned into a monster!” Bonnie was now sobbing so hard it left dark marks on her clothes which were somehow unharmed by the transformation.
“Stands can manifest as anything, even as a transformation. I call mine 『Best Shot』, it reflects any damage thrown towards me if I call it in time but can’t attack on its own. My dad taught me how to control it and find out what it does, I can do the same for you.”
Bonnie didn’t want to learn anything more today though, she didn’t even say a word as she got up and left. As she stepped out the door, she noticed little Ozzy come trotting to her side. She had already put together that he was the beast for before and that it was an effect of her “stand.” Let's go home boy, I’ll patch up your wound there, she thought while examining the hole made by her finger nail for any infections.
Getting to sleep was not an option that night. Bonnie kept scouring the internet for any information about stands or real life werewolves. She wasn’t expecting any academic thesis paper or 30 year study to pop up but even then the results she got were…less than trustworthy. A folk story of Napoleon’s finest general was the only result she got and that was after drastically changing the search terms to “ghost powers” and nearly 4 hours of study. Entering her 5th hour of study, she felt no less curious or determined. This was a hunt for the truth and one she could not stop. Finally something came up that caught her eye, a conspiracy blog that had an article titled “Joestar Family Guilty of more Anti-God Crimes.” The name “Joestar” was one she knew well, Jon Joestar was the wrestling team captain for her school and a child of the richest family in their state of Georgia. The website had photos of nearly every family member dating back to 1988 with aggressive captions about their supposed “demonic powers” that had been the subject of scary stories since before Bonnie was even a sperm cell.
She clicked through the gallery, nothing much came up for the first few. Her sleep deprived eyes kept jumping at small floaters she hoped would be oddities like in Diego’s photo. Was that golden man Diego’s stand? Then she spotted something real, behind a young Jon was a child sized humanoid. Its skin was cracked and dried, parts looked rotten or infected, around its neck was the slipknot of a noose and covering its face was a black bag. In almost every photo of Jon from ages 5-11, there was that corpse not far behind him. Then, a memory hit Bonnie like a bullet through the heart. JoJo’s monster?
Stand Name:『Best Shot』
Stand User: Chandler Polnareff
Stand Type: Close range
Ability: Anything that makes direct contact with Chandler or 『Best Shot』has its energy reflected back at it with an extra boost to it. For example, if you were to punch Chandler then『Best Shot』would punch you with a greater amount of force. This stand cannot attack on its own so it is reliant on others attacking first.
In kindergarten, Jon (or JoJo as he was commonly teased) was awkward and often told other kids he had a “dead friend” who only he could see. Bonnie remembered how one day some kids would throw dirt at him telling him to bury it and ask if the friend was his mother’s ghost or his sister’s ghost. Carrying on into elementary school, JoJo was still shunned and seen as creepy by most of his classmates. Bonnie only kept up a nice act because JoJo and Jackie were close friends and she would’ve hated to have Jackie upset. But there was one incident that nearly broke that facade for her, one she couldn’t explain until today. During the last recess of fifth grade, Jackie bought Bonnie along to see JoJo’s magic trick. The three went behind a tree line where JoJo eventually found a snake and held it up for his audience to see.
“With this snake, I will make my magician debut!” The young Houdini had such a sparkle in his eyes and a naughty giggle in his voice.
Lowering the snake down to chest level, JoJo spat out several cliche magician phrases as the snake desperately tried to bite at him and break free. Bonnie had thought before that JoJo was just keeping a good grip on the snake, but now she doubted it was only him involved. Suddenly, the snake’s skin began to bubble and then turn black with decay, even its eyes evaporated into the air. What was left were bones, bones without a strand of meat on them.
JoJo’s dead friend was a stand! Bonnie had finally reached something resembling an answer to a question, but that only opened more doors. How many more Joestars had stands? Were the Joestars and Polnareffs related? What about the Brandos? Bonnie got a second wind of energy as her phone’s morning alarm blared. Quickly she cleaned up and ate a few fruits before taking off not to school but to Chandler’s house.
She had never ran so fast before, and she wasn’t even sweating! She slammed her hand into the door over and over, but there was no reply. She could see Chandler’s car parked in the street so he cleary home, but minutes passed with no one coming to the door. She knocked again, even harder this time, and then kept knocking until she was practically punching the door. She felt so compelled to get the door to open, to take full control of the situation, she wasn’t even aware of small dents left after every few knocks. Then her phone buzzed, Chandler sent a message.
“I can’t come to the door. Stop knocking so damn loud!!!”
On a normal day under natural influences, Bonnie would’ve gone to school and apologized over the phone. But today was a revelation and Bonnie was under the same state as an excited dog. She got an instinctual desire to sniff for anything out of the ordinary. She pointed her sniffer up and got a good few whiffs of the air. For the most part it smelled like Chandler’s house, but there was another scent in the air. It was the smell of a suburban home, fabric softeners and faded smells of cleaning supplies, but an added ingredient kept her sniffing. Was this a sense she had experienced before? It seemed familiar but not in the sense of having first hand knowledge of it but rather like carrying a second hand memory of it. Like having it described many times but never really living it. It was warm and strong but not inviting like pumpkin or vanilla, it carried a dreadful linger with it. This was the smell of something dead and rotting.
Bonnie felt her legs move before she even commanded them to, the death stench was coming from within the house leaking out through cracks in the windows and doors. Is Chandler in danger? She bolted around the back and tried to open the patio door, it was locked. Any entrance she could’ve used was locked and even in her manic state Bonnie refused to just kick in a door or break open a window. She needed someway to open the door from the inside and fast. She looked around the yard and her eyes fixed on just what she needed, an ant hill. Bonnie rushed over and stuck her nail into the hill before slowly stirring it around. She didn’t know how well she could control anything she turned but this was a good time to find out. Removing her finger, she watched as fuzzy ants, slightly larger than the average ant, marched out like an entire army stepping into attention.
She thought of her command and began to speak, but the ants began to move again on their own. One by one they slipped under the door way until each one had found its way in. There were a few minutes of failed attempts, but eventually the ants somehow managed to turn the knob and open the door. This power truly was a blessing in disguise. Bonnie kept the ants near her just in case she would need their bites but felt that an army dead within one stomp wasn’t much of an army. She ran back out and spotted a few robins sitting in a tree, with speed and height inhuman she leaped up and managed to catch the three of them. Pricking each one, she watched as they contorted into small winged beats with dog like jaws and teeth covered head to talon in fur. Her ability was quite useful, but it was still kinda gross.
She rushed back into the home only to fall face first as her vision went grey. Her head began to throb like a thumb slammed into a door while she looked around for any assailant. She couldn’t make out anything with her sight blurred into nothingness, her adrenaline rush had taken a sharp and steep nose dive. A voice reached her in the darkness of her fainting, one monstrous and demanding.
“THE ANTS, RELEASE THE ANTS.” It shouted and echoed in her mind.
Bonnie felt sweat pouring down her face like a waterfall in her haze.
“STOP OVERTHINKING AND JUST LET THE ANTS GO”
This voice had a trusting nature to it, in some strange way she felt like it was not only trustworthy but something closer than even family. She wanted to obey it but how would she let the ants go? What does that even mean? The ants began to slowly fade out of her attention as she suddenly felt the pulsing pain on her forehead from its sudden get-to-know-you with the floor. She began to feel a lot of things actually, feel and see. Slowly she returned to reality, slowly she saw that her phone screen still read the time it had when she entered the house. And, as if she had never even been under that strained state, she returned to how she was before. Behind her, the ants were now their normal size and lacked any sort of hair. But the three birds still drooled and barked above her as she rose to her feet again. Don’t overload yourself, just turn what you need.
She entered the living room, not even the family dog was around to question her. She stepped down and turned to the kitchen. From there she could see the hole Ozzy had made in the wall was still there, untouched and holding tiny clumps of fur. She then walked towards the bedrooms and bathrooms, washrooms and even checking closets. No one. The house didn’t have an upstairs but it did have a downstairs, the one place she hadn’t checked. She had her birds land on her fingers to reduce noise as she marched down into the dark down below. The smell of rot became slightly stronger as she reached the landing at the bottom, it came from a room off to the side with its lights on.
Bonnie moved the birds to one hand and held it out in front of her, if anything came around they would deal with it first. The smell wasn’t getting stronger, it was as if it was a muted version of itself. Creeping along the floor towards the room, her ears picked up on a conversation she could hear clearly.
“Then we agree, we’ll meet at 20:00 on Saturday.”
“Yes but everyone needs to stay on their guard, whatever this stand can do it’s not like anything I’ve seen before.”
“Whatever happens, 『Cannibal Corpse』should be more than capable of handling it.”
“I’d be ok with signing off on punching him, but under no circumstance are you allowed to use your ability unless he attempts to use his on you. Understood?”
Each voice came from a different speaker at this meeting. She recognized only two of the voices. The first one to talk was Chandler’s mom and the one to mention 『Cannibal Corpse』sounded like Jon from the few times she interacted with him in school. Why would those two people be in a meeting with several others discussing when to meet again? Did Chandler’s mom have some connection to Jon? Bonnie let her focus turn to the room more and more before another voice rang out
“THE BIRDS! REMEMBER THE BIRDS!” it was the same voice from the ants incident.
Bonnie whipped her head around and saw one of her birds had reverted to its normal form while she was studying the voices. I have to keep focus on them as well? What kind of shitty power comes with so many strings attached? Bonnie went to poke it again but it took off from her finger, scared of her and it’s friends gone feral. The bird was cooing and flapping its wings furiously, the noise had cut off those in the room and gotten their attention. Bonnie froze in place with fear and anxiety, she had no control over anything that would come next and that scared her more than anything. She heard feet run from inside the room to outside it, Jon and Chandler barreled out of the room with their stands at the ready. Behind Jon floated a rotted corpse that somehow maintained muscle mass in the areas least decayed. It looked exactly like what she had seen in the pictures.
“I told you keep her under watch.” Jon slid his hands into his pockets and began walking towards Bonnie as what she assumed was 『Cannibal Corpse』raised its fists and readied itself for a fight. “Any new stand user is a wild gun.”
Chandler grabbed Jon’s arm and yelled something Bonnie couldn’t hear. Her sudden fear made her legs become noodles as she felt hair wrap her body up and the birds on her finger take flight.
Stand Name:『Cannibal Corpse』
Stand User: Jon Joestar
Stand Type: Close range
Ability: Upon placing both hands upon its target, this stand can cause that target to rot and decay rapidly. It also possess strong physical attacks typical of the Joestar line. Most who are aware of the stand find it a strange reflection of Jon's personality...
Hey quick new note! This fan part will be taking a short break until after Sunday the 22nd. I have a musical I have to devote my full attention to but I will still be brainstorming ideas for this fan part and I WILL NOT be letting it die.