Jorge Joestar

Chapter 3: Wounds

Tsukumojuku was missing, presumed dead, and it seemed mydays of adventure had ended. I went to school, barely spoke to anyone but Mum,and had my nose in a book all day long, at school or at home. Even though I’dhad no friends as a child, and rarely went outside, I’d not been much of areader. But being friends with Tsukumojuku and seeing how he used theinformation he’d learned to help him solve cases and increase the flexibilityof his thought processes made me incapable of remaining ignorant. But I stillhated studying and never really took school seriously, so I couldn’t reallykeep up with the other students. So I decided to start small, with novels.Mother had quite a collection of English novels overflowing our bookshelves.Since there was a detective, I started with Sherlock Holmes, but after vistingthe scene of real crimes with Tsukumojuku it just seemed so tame and stiff, soI gave up. I then tried Charles Dickens, Oscar Wilde, and Emily Brontë, but itwas H. G. Wells I fell in love with. The Time Machine, The Island of Dr.Moreau, War of the Worlds, The Invisible Man – all science fantasy, allterrific. They even made me like science. When Mum saw me reading a book onscience she suggested we hire a tutor. She’d never really been one for forcedstudy or early bedtimes, but she had a keen eye to when I might be open to sucha suggestion, so I didn’t feel moved turn her down. I had an idea who might bea good tutor; a girl Tsukumojuku and I had met on our last case, the one who’dhelped us finally catch Javier Cortez. Her name was Penelope de la Roza. Shehad a pathological fear of clowns, so when Javier had haunted her dreamsdisguised as a clown and tried to convince her to commit a locked room murder,the blow to her system had been so extreme she’d quit school and never left thehouse. She was quite the beauty, and I thought maybe sharing some stories ofgood times with Tsukumojuku might help cheer her up a bit. But when I went tosee her things didn’t go so well. She barely gave me the time of day.

“Sorry, but seeing you makes me remember the clown in my

dreams, and I get scared.” Whoops. Clearly, I’d beentactless. Now that she mentioned it while Javier had been after her Penelopehad been in a state of panic, and was perpetually shivering, even in broaddaylight.

“Oh. Sorry to just drop in like this, then. I didn’t mean toupset you,” I said, and turned to leave.

“I’m sorry too, Jorge,” she said, from the other sideof the door she refused to open.

“You came all this way. I can’t stop myself thinking aboutthe clown, but…I was glad to see you, and honestly, it’s something of arelief to talk to someone like this.” I was very glad to hear it. Also,even though nearly everyone I’d met solving cases was Spanish, they allpronounced Jorge ‘George’ – Tsukumojuku’s parting gift. That thought made mesad, but there was a warmth to that sadness. I went home. But the next evening,Penelope came to see me, looking very upset.

“Jorge!” she yelled from outside. Surprised, I got outof bed. I glanced at the clock; it was 1:30 AM. For a moment I wondered if I’ddreamt it, but then she yelled again.

“Jorge Joestar!” I cracked the curtains, and Penelopewas standing outside the front door.

“What is it, Penelope?”

“You’ve got to help! You’ve got to do something!”

“Do something about what? Calm down!”

“How can I? He’s back! Javier Cortez is back! It’s all yourfault! Nothing happened until yesterday!” Javier? This made no sense. Theislanders killed him and dumped his body in the sea.

“Okay, wait a second, I’ll be right out.” I left thewindow, went downstairs, and burst out the front door. Penelope was shiveringin a sleeveless dress and a pair of sandals. She did not appear to be harmed.Just terrified; she collapsed into my arms as I approached. Her body washorrifyingly cold to the touch.

“Aughhhh!” she wailed, clinging to me.

“I’m so scared! Javier Cortez is still after me!”

“He isn’t,” I said.

“He’s dead. You saw the body.” They’d beaten him withstones and farm implements until his skull split open. There’s no way he couldhave survived.

“It was just a dream. Don’t worry. He no longerexists.” Penelope pulled away, and glared at me.

“No, it wasn’t a dream! It really happened! He came to myhouse!”

“He couldn’t have,” I said, growing melancholy. PerhapsPenelope had genuinely gone crazy. Frustrated, Penelope yelled through hertears, “It’s true! And he ran ahead of me on the way here, jumping out atme!” Jumping out at her? “What do you mean? I’ll hear you out, justcalm down and start from the beginning.”

“Look…after you came to visit yesterday, I went back to myroom. The door was locked from the inside, and so were the windows. I couldn’tget in.”

“…..?”

“It was a locked room! I thought there had to be someone inthere at first…I was scared, so I went to the kitchen, where my mother was.But the kitchen door slammed shut right in front of me. It was locked from theinside! I got scared, and called out, and she started screaming! ‘Ahhh! There’ssomebody in here!’ Now both of us are in a panic, and trying to open the door,but it won’t open. Cortez wanted me to kill my mother, remember? She knew that,so she thought it was me again, and yelled, ‘Don’t do it, Penny! Stop! Don’tkill me!’ I would never do that! Cortez is dead, and I’m back to normal! I wasso worried about her I tried to kick the door down, but it wouldn’t open.That’s how you and Tsukumojuku used to get in the locked rooms, right?” Inan emergency, yes. If events were still in progress, we’d attempt to intervene,but normally we’d try to preserve the scene, and look for a key or another wayin. Or make another way in. People making locked rooms often took a broken downdoor into account, and would often try and use that to hide evidence. We

didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

“But my kick didn’t do a damn thing to that door, so Istarted throwing myself into it, over and over. At last it broke, and I camerushing in, just in time to see a clown in the corner before it disappeared. Ifroze to spot. I couldn’t move. Mother was hiding behind the sofa, hysterical.At last she came out and came over to me, but she blames me for everything. Shethought I was trying to kill her again. She’s sure I hate her now.”Penelope’s parents had divorced four years ago, and Penelope’s mother had fullcustody. Penelope had blamed her for taking away her father. Their relationshiphad been strained to begin with, and when Penelope started dating a man namedEdvard, a thug who beat her and sold anything she owned of value, Isabella –her mother – tried to convince her to break up with him. Edvard played the twoof them off against each other, leaving Penelope alone in the world. Hethreatened to ruin Penelope permanently if Isabella interfered. In the end,Isabella gave up on her daughter. Then the clown started showing up inPenelope’s dreams. Face covered in white, with bright circles round his eyesand mouth, a huge grin, a cheery manner, lots of big gestures and calls to thecrowd. Penelope found his ridiculous nature deeply frightening. She couldn’t move;her body covered in a cold sweat, her heart beating so fast it seemed like itwas beating right into her brain. She couldn’t even look away, and herbreathing grew so shallow she was barely conscious enough to think.Occasionally her eyes even rolled back in her head and she fainted – whilestill asleep and dreaming. The only person she could talk to about this fearhad been Isabella.

“She’s the only one I can trust. I finally realized that,but no matter how many times I tell her, she…” Penelope started cryingagain. I have no idea what to do when girls cry. I just stood there awkwardly,and waited for her to stop.

“So, um,” she continued, still crying.

“I went over to the window where the clown was – veryslowly, ready to run. And I found this.” She held out a doll, about

the size of her palm. It had no clothes, and a shapelessface with eyes and a wide open mouth stitched on. The eyes were white circleswith no pupils, and there was blood streaming out of the mouth down its chin.There was a hangman’s noose tied around its neck.

“It’s…”

“Dead. It’s supposed to be me, I’m sure. It’s a warning. I’mgoing to die. Someone’s going to murder me. Soon.”

“That won’t happen,” I said, but I had no basis forthis. And Penelope knew that. Still, I thought, this was all happening becauseI thoughtlessly went to see her. Nothing like this had happened before today.

“Why don’t you come in?” I said. I led her up on theporch, and tried to open the door. It was locked from the inside. Mum? Whywould she shut us out…? “Jorge?” Her voice came from inside.

“Run!”

“? What? Open the door, Mum.” Suddenly terrified, Ibegan rattling the knob, but the door wouldn’t budge.

“Listen to me, Jorge. You have to run.”

“Mum! Open this door! What’s going on!?”

“There’s a clown in here.” A clown? “Eeek!”Penelope squeaked. She backed away, almost falling down the two steps up to theporch.

“Oh…Jorge…sorry…I think I brought it with me…”This made no sense. Javier Cortez was dead. I didn’t believe in ghosts. Someoneliving must be doing this. I’d learned that much after four years asTsukumojuku’s friend. There were no ghosts. There was no magic. Curses onlyworked on the emotions of those that believed in them. The Chinese were notwizards, and there were no drugs or poisons with special properties thatfavored the criminals. Everything had

meaning. Everything could be explained logically. The clownon the other side of this door could be explained, too. Mysterious clowns onlyexisted in dreams! I put my back into it and kicked the door down. Crassssh!I’d kicked a lot of doors down, working with Tsukumojuku, but this wasdefinitely my best ever attempt. The door broke free of the lock, flew inwards,and did a full 180, slamming against the inside wall.

“Mum!” I yelled, bursting in. Then I saw it; a clownfloating in the air, and my Mum facing it down. The clown…did exist.

“Aiieeee!” Penelope screeched, behind me. Okay, so theclown was real. Penelope could see it too. A fat little white clown. Whitehair, white make up, puffy white clothes.

“Penelope! Wait outside!” I yelled, and grabbed anearby chair with one hand. Strike before you think! I swung the chair throughthe air, and hit the clown with it.

“Rraaaagh!” Schuuun! The chair zipped through the air.The clown vanished…no, it broke into the pieces. What the!? The chair hit thefloor. This wasn’t a ghost. I’d never seen a ghost, but this clown didn’tvanish like mist or smoke, it shattered into tiny pieces – they were hard tomake out, but they were still in the air in front of me.

“Mum, you get out of here,” I said.

“Calm down, Jorge,” Mum said, behind me.

“I don’t think the clown means us any harm.”

“? …..what makes you say that?”

“I was quite surprised when it appeared and all the doorsand windows slammed shut. But when that girl outside – Penelope? – appeared, Iunderstood. I don’t know how, but I believe Penelope is making that clown.She’s making it to protect herself.”

“…..hunh….?”

“Jorge? Are you okay?” Penelope asked. I turned around,and Penelope had come back up the steps

onto the porch, and was looking in the door.

“Penelope, don’t –” come in, I meant to say, butsuddenly the door slammed shut, and the floating clown manifested in theshadows behind it. Penelope’s shriek and my yelp of surprise overlapped. The clownignored us both, dragged a heavy side table over to the door, and wedged itunder the doorknob. Locking us in. We were in a locked room.

“Jorge! Run!” Penelope screamed.

“I’m so sorry! I brought him here!” But the clown neverlooked at me. It just stared at the door, at Penelope on the other side of it.Chair in hand, I moved slowly closer. The clown didn’t turn around. I studiedit closely. There were cracks on the surface of it here and there, and I couldsee inside; there was nothing in there. It was all surface. A hollow clown. Imoved even closer. The cracks in the clown had frayed edges. I put my faceright next to it, and could see the threads. This clown was woven out ofthread. What thread? I found a single thread dangling down from the clown’ship. I followed it with my eyes. It ran along the floor, and through the gapunder the front door.

“Penelope, step back.”

“Sniff, okay. I’m sorry.” She was crying again. Ilistened for her footsteps on the stairs, then moved the side table aside andopened the door.

“Eeeeek, look out, Jorge! Behind you!” Penelopescreamed. She must have seen the clown behind me, so I stepped out on the porchand closed the door.

“Oh! Good, are you okay, Jorge? Come over here. There was aclown right behind you!” The white thread ran across the porch, down thesteps, and over to Penelope. Hmm.

“Wait, Jorge! Your mother!? She’s still in there with theclown! We have to save her!” Penelope bravely started up the stairs again,so I put my arms around her. She was the one who needed saving.

“Wh-what are you doing, Jorge?” she said, struggling.

“The

clown!” My hands were resting on her shoulders, and Icould tell her sleeveless dress was now held on by a single string over eachshoulder. In the night air, her shoulders were very cold.

“My Mum’s fine,” I said. Penelope stopped struggling.She was still scared and confused, but she was standing still now. My arms werearound her, pulling her to me. Fighting the force of her fear. It had happenedagain, I thought. Just like Javier Cortez’s power over dreams, and AntonioTorres’ skin shedding, constant fear and suffering had given her strangepowers. I remembered how the trick Javier Cortez had wanted Penelope to use hadinvolved a thread running under the door to turn the key. A very simple trick.It would have bored Tsukumojuku to tears, but the fear it had given Penelopewas so great it had led to this mysterious power. I cursed the fear itselfsilently, holding her close.

Eventually the thread from Penelope’s dress snapped, a dollin a noose dropped behind the door, and Mum brought it out. I took it, showedit to Penelope, and unraveled it before her eyes. There was a loose threadcoming out of the doll’s hip, and one tug on that was all it took. The dollcame apart that easily.

“I know this is hard to believe, but you made all of this,Penelope. The clown, the locked room, and this doll. You are much too scared ofthat clown that wanted you to commit a locked room murder. You couldn’t takethe constant fear, and it gave you a strange power, the ability to make lockedrooms. But since you don’t want to do that, you make the clown do it, andbecause you don’t want to kill anyone, you kill this doll. And it all gets shutinside a locked room.” Penelope didn’t believe me, of course. She couldn’tsee inside the physical locked room, or into the depths of her own

heart. I just had to hope she’d get used to it in time.

But wherever Penelope went, no matter what door she drewnear, her fear slammed it shut, made a locked room, a clown appeared inside,and a doll was hung. And that just fueled her fear. I got used to it quicklyenough. I had never been afraid of clowns, or locked rooms. I explained it toIsabella, and had her observe the power in action, but she remained terrifiedand convinced Penelope had been possessed by the devil, so I talked it overwith Mum, and we decided to have Penelope come live with us. Our house wasprobably the largest on La Palma, with plenty of rooms. Mum was a majoritystockholder in a successful English company called the Speedwagon Company, sowe didn’t lack for money, and she ran a trading company of her own with shipsand warehouses in every port in the Canary Islands. She hired Penelope to workin the La Palma office. And to be my tutor. Just standing in front of a doorcaused it to slam shut and form a locked room, leaving Penelope quaking in theshadow of the clown, but I went with her to work, and walked with her aroundthe house, and in time locked rooms stopped showing up at the office and ourhouse. Frankly, I was somewhat disappointed. I mean, just standing in front ofa door made Penelope’s clothes unravel? La Palma was hot all year and nobodywore that many clothes to begin with. Penelope wore sun dresses, and maaaaybe alight shawl over her shoulders, and that’s it. Having that unravel, the surfacearea rapidly shrinking…oh my. Naturally I said nothing, pretending to befocused on the problem and not to have noticed anything, but Boys, girls seeright through this. She picked up on my furtive glances, and rapidly coveredherself with pillows or nearby bed sheets.

“I still can’t believe it, but that grin on your face makesme think it has to be true.” Eh? I was grinning? Craaap, I mean, sorry,Penelope, you’re

really scaring me here! I was all flustered every time butPenelope was never really all that mad at me, thankfully. Would I ever be aproper gentleman?

Apparently not. One day in February, six months afterPenelope moved into the Joestar residence, and a while after she’d been able togo to work on her own, she asked me to go with her again.

“Sorry, Jorge. Just for today, I promise. Yesterday I justgot this idea in my head that someone was following me. I’m scared to go on myown.” Usually my job was to go, “You made this locked room,Penelope.” Or, “The clown’s made of thread, and it’ll turn into adoll in a few minutes, so there’s no need to be frightened.” But thissounded more like actual bodyguard work. I was getting nervous already. I mean,when I was working with Tsukumojuku we used to burst in on murder scenes, andchase killers around, and catch them, but most of the work was done by Tsukumojukuand the police, while I hovered nearby shrieking. I didn’t ever really fight atall, and I still had no real confidence in my left hook. The only thing I’dreally gained from those experiences was courage? Or so I thought butapparently I hadn’t even managed that, because when I tried to stand up fromthe breakfast table and say I’d go to work with her my legs were shaking somuch I couldn’t walk straight, and stumbled into the table. All the dishesrattled. Crap, that was a little too frightened. I even surprised myself.

“Oh, Jorge…sorry. Are you okay? You don’t have tocome.” Penelope smiled bravely.

“I’ll be fine.” Augh, she totally knew I was scared.But even though I was embarrassed part of me was super relieved she said that,and looking forward to getting back to sipping my coffee. Pathetic. I hadn’timproved one iota since grade school. But before I could say anything, Mumstepped in.

“No, Jorge, you have to go with Penelope.” At least Imaintained my

dignity. Maybe. But in the sense that both of them knewexactly what I was thinking probably not at all. I suddenly had a very badfeeling about the day. But I left the house with Penelope. She thoughtfullychose to be super chatty to keep my mind off things, but my head was full ofall the times Antonio’s gang had come after me, and it felt like a dark cloudwas hovering over my head, that I was sure it would bring bad luck. Of course,Antonio Torres was dead, and his primary cohort Julio had long since lostinterest, so neither of them showed up. But on the way to the office, there wasa road that cut through the middle of an open field, and waiting for us wasPenelope’s ex, the bad bad Edvard Noriega. I froze to the spot, my mind blank.Penelope glared at him.

“Hey, Penny! Long time no see.”

“…what? What do you want?”

“I just wanted to see how you were getting on.”

“I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

“Don’t say that! I’m dying here.”

“You heard I was working for the Joestars, right? I’m notlending you money, and no matter what trouble you’re in, you’ll get no helpfrom me.”

“That’s not it…I got no money, true, but I don’t needthat. I…I saw something strange…” Mm? Strange? That word finallysnapped me out of it. Edvard was nothing like he’d been when Tsukumojuku and Ilast spoke to him. Where once he’d been an alpha male, and treated Penelopelike his property, now Edvard was genuinely terrified, his voice shaking, hisface pale. He was downright begging for Penelope’s help.

“Come on, Jorge. Leave him be. He’s a great actor, alwayswas good at making people pity him,” Penelope snapped. Really? Acting?This was a performance? “No…I’m serious! Listen, please! I saw thiscreepy guy, with wings…”

“Shut up and go away!”

“I was so scared…it was too dark to see his face, but he’s

after me…”

“I don’t care! Take care of it yourself!”

“I just know he’s gonna kill me, Penny. Have a heart…yougotta listen. He’s like a like a moth in the night, tapping softly on thewall…”

“Shut up shut up shut up! You never once listened to a wordI said about the clown! Serves you right!”

“I couldn’t be sorrier about that, honest. It was all myfault, so please, just stop a second. Don’t go digging up the past. Listen, twonights ago I went out to see this girl I’ve been seeing, Prunella…”

“I don’t want to hear about it!”

“You gotta listen! I don’t love her anything like as much asI loved you, I swear!”

“I don’t care! You’d better stop, or…!” Penelope wasso angry now she stopped walking. How could she not be? When the case withJavier Cortez broke, Edvard had split, without even saying good-bye. Even afterPenelope had shut herself in Isabella said she’d spent a while waiting for himto come back. And now he shows up, talking about his new girlfriend, eventhough he’d never bothered breaking up with his old one. The worst thing a mancould do, let alone an ex.

“So I was lying in bed with Prunella, when I suddenly wokeup.”

“Did you not hear me say stop? I don’t! Want! To hearit!” Penelope roared. I knew how she felt, but her anger was so explosiveit scared me.

“Come on now, just ignore him, let’s go,” I said,trying to calm her down and pull her away. Then I saw her face. There wereveins bulging on her foreheads. Her lips were curled back, bearing her teeth.She looked downright…mad. This wasn’t going to work. Penelope was beyond thehelp of words. But Edvard was too wrapped up in his own affairs to notice.

“He was standing at the base of the bed. Black as the devil,

but so quiet he hardly seemed real…” Something redtrickled down from Penelope’s nose. Blood. She was so furious there was bloodrunning down her chin.

“If you don’t stop talking I’ll kill you,” she said. Iwas too scared to try and stop her. While I dithered, there was burst of windaround me. Had the wind changed? No, there was a rumbling below me, and thesound was moving, coming closer. What the!? I looked around, half expecting tosee all the dogs and cats on the island rushing towards me, but nope. What wasactually happening was far more terrifying. The ground itself was moving. Scrrrrrrrrrrnch!It swirled, gathering itself around us. A mound of earth raced by, like acarnivore hell-bent on devouring the crops. It passed behind me, heading forEdvard.

“I knew he wasn’t a thief, or nothing. Thieves don’t watchpeople when they sleep. They don’t wear clothes that make them look like theygot wings…”

“I’m gonna kill you, Edvard! Stop it now, or you willdie?” Both of them kept talking, oblivious to the other. Penelope’s nosebleed had dyed her chest red, and Edvard’s eyes were focused on nothing – thevery fact that he hadn’t noticed what was going on was possibly the mostfrightening part of all this. Look! I opened my mouth to yell, but the dirt andgrass around him heaved, and four walls shot up around him. But Edvard didn’tstop mumbling.

“I was too scared to get up. Then he spoke. ‘Close youreyes, lie down, and think about tomorrow,’ he said.” He was about to beswallowed in a five meter wide square of dirt.

“I said stop,” Penelope hissed, another squirt of bloodshooting out of her nose. I took one look at her and knew this was all herdoing.

“I don’t know what he meant, but I knew one thing…thisblack winged man was going to do something awful to me…”

Just before the earth walls swallowed Edvard completely, Isaw a black figure standing behind him. It had a round nose, and a hat, and bighair. A clown. The walls closed together on top, closing Edvard in with thedirt clown. The locked room was complete.

“If you’d stopped, you’d have lived!” Penelope raged.Penelope had finally learned to make a locked room without using her clothes.And the evil clown inside. Part of me was actually impressed. Penelope’s woundhad given her concrete power, and she’d turned it into a weapon. Given thesource of her powers, I immediately decided to call it a Wound. Injury was toocoarse, and Trauma sounded too medical, and the implication that it was mentalsuffering was too strong. This wound was both physical and emotional, and grewover time. But this was no time to go naming things! Was I an idiot? I had timeto be weirdly impressed later! “No, Penelope! Stop!” I said, forcingmyself to speak.

“Don’t kill him!” Penelope didn’t even look at me.

“It’s not me.” Of course not. It was the clown.

“Edvard! Run!” I yelled, dashing towards the locked room.There was no door, or window. Just the walls. Grass woven tightly together,dirt plugging up the cracks. I tried yanking on the grass but the holes filledquickly with more grass and dirt. The walls were alive.

“Aaaaaaaugh!” Edvard screamed inside. Had the clown gotits noose on him? Fundamentally, the point of a locked room murder was to makea murder look like a suicide. But if Edvard died like this, and someone foundhim, would the police think he built a room of dirt and grass and hung himselfinside? I didn’t know. But without evidence showing how the locked

room was built, without proof it was murder, would thepolice have any other choice but to rule it a suicide? If so, Penelope’s lockedroom murder would be a success. But I wouldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t letPenelope murder anyone! I ripped into the grass and dirt walls, forcing a holeopen. I had to work faster than the automatic recovery. I got the hole largeenough to check on Edvard. I couldn’t see most of him, but his feet were danglingin the air, kicking. He was hanging.

“Stop, Penelope! Don’t make a locked room! Break this lockedroom down!” I shouted, making the hole even wider. Before the grass anddirt could fill it in I dove in.

“No! Don’t, Jorge! Come out of there!” Before Penelope’scry finished, the wall closed behind me, muffling her voice. I turned aroundjust in time to see the hole close completely. Edvard was dangling from theceiling, a rope of grass around his neck. Behind him, an earthen clown dangledupside down from the ceiling. Why had I jumped in here? “Aaaaaaugh!”I yelled. There was a snap as the grass rope dropped down from the ceiling andpulled tight around my neck. It yanked me into the air, hard. The grass duginto my throat, breaking the skin, but I barely noticed. The weight of my bodynearly made me black out instantly. Luckily, my neck didn’t break, but thenoose was choking off my windpipe and jugulars, cutting off the flow of air tomy brain. With my blood not moving, my entire body gasped for oxygen. The painwas so great I tried desperately to loosen or break the noose, but it wouldn’tbudge. Instead, more tendrils slithered down, weaving themselves into thenoose, making it stronger. I was starting to panic. The dirt clown moved itsface next to mine, watching me die. Now I was really panicking, but I couldn’t!Not now! My legs couldn’t reach the ground and this clown was going to makesure I died! I wasn’t getting out of this by brute forcing my way free! Think!I had to think!

How could I break the locked room? Penelope! Could Penelopesave me? No. She’d made the locked room. Penelope had no idea what washappening inside it. Anything that happened would be the clown’s fault, in hermind. Penelope was even less aware that she was doing all this than the clownstaring emotionlessly into my eyes. After Edvard and I were dead, she’d cry awhile, tell everyone a clown killed us in some mysterious locked room, and thenforget all about it the moment the funerals were over. I couldn’t rely on herat all! I had to think of a way to break the locked room myself! Without bruteforce!? But that just might be possible! If I could break the idea of a lockedroom, somehow! The point of a locked room was to make murder look like suicide.If I could make provide evidence that this was murder…if I could leave thatbehind somehow, so that the police would have to investigate further! Then thatwould destroy the locked room’s function! “Grrrrraagh!” I yelled, notbecause of this idea but because the pancakes and tea I’d had for breakfast hadcome up my throat and were dripping back down into my wind pipe. Shit. Mybreakfast was going to kill me before this noose did. I had to hurry. Butcarefully. I couldn’t screw this up! I pulled my knife out of my back pocket.It was a pocket knife, mostly designed for opening wine; the blade was threecentimeters long. I kept it around for selfdefense because I was pathetic, buttoday I was very grateful to have it. I pulled my shirt up, and stabbed theknife into my bare belly.

“Glrararraaagh!” I yelled, gargling the vomit in mywindpipe. My vision was getting blurry. I could barely see. I knew the clownwas still there, though. There was a shrill ringing in my eyes, and I was aboutto pass out entirely, but I couldn’t panic! I had to write! Feeling my wayacross my belly with the knife, I wrote.

A message. That the clown would have to read.

“MURDER”

Nice and simple. I barely made it. While I was writing thefinal R I lost consciousness, and the world went black before my eyes. I saw atiny light in the darkness, and wondered if that was the entrance to theafterlife. It seemed so warm. Should I jump on in? No, no, I wasn’t done withthis world yet, but…? Just as I was starting to feel rather rapturous, my asshit the ground, the ceiling opened, sunlight streamed in, and I threw up morethan I’ve ever thrown up before. Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarggh.Blrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaarrggghh. Brrrraaaaarrararrraaagggghhagggghgghgggghargh.Once my stomach and lungs and pipes were totally clear I felt so happy Iwondered if I could split this joy with Penelope, who was clutching me andcrying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Edvard was unconscious butalive. I was relieved to see it. My belly throbbed, but it would heal in time.

Or so I thought, but apparently I’d dug a little too deep,and the word murder would remain upside-down on my belly forever. When thedoctor told me this I gaped at him, and Penelope started crying again, and afamiliar voice from the hospital room door yelled, “Jorge! Who did that toyou!?” and I turned to look and saw Lisa Lisa standing there, a littletaller, her hair much longer, and even more beautiful. I hid my bare belly, andPenelope wiped her eyes and stopped crying.

“They’re still bullying you!? ‘Murder’? Is that a threat?Jorge, what have you got yourself mixed up in!?” Lisa Lisa was jumping toconclusions. Four years had done wonders for her but

the gulf between her insides and out was already getting onmy nerves.

“No, no, I did this myself.”

“Don’t lie to me! Nobody would ever do that!”

“I had a good reason.”

“Then explain it to me this instant!”

“Shut up! I don’t have to explain everything I do toyou!” I said, dismissively. Lisa Lisa clamped her mouth shit, her lipquivering, tears in her eyes. Aw, crap.

“Um, sorry,” Penelope said, standing up.

“It’s all my fault.”

“Forget it, Penelope. It doesn’t matter now.”

“But…”

“This is the Penelope Mama Erina mentioned?” Lisa Lisasaid, glaring at us.

“I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m…”

“Lisa Lisa, right? Jorge and Erina told me about you.”

“Don’t you call me Lisa Lisa. My name is Elizabeth Straits,Señorita.” I cringed. Fireworks were flying between them. Penelope lookedready to make a locked room around Lisa Lisa, and summon that clown. I had dosomething, so I forced myself to speak.

“What brings you here, Lisa Lisa? You coming home with us?Mum will be glad to see you. Or did you already talk to her? Did you go see herfirst? I suppose you wouldn’t know to come here otherwise. We kept your roomthe way you left it so…”

“Finding you here was a coincidence, Jorge,” Lisa Lisainterrupted.

“I had a question for the doctor here, and saw you’d beenhurt…I was a little surprised, that’s all.” Her tone had softened, to myrelief.

“A question for me?” The doctor said.

“Have you had patients coming here claiming to have seen aman with wings? Or a man like a moth?” So much for my relief.

I had just heard that exact story.

Listen, please! I saw this creepy guy, with wings…Edvard’s words. Penelope looked as stunned as I was.

“Yeah,” the doctor said.

“We’ve had a lot of patients wondering if they were having anervous breakdown.” Lisa Lisa nodded, as if she’d expected that answer.

“I checked with the police as well. They have quite acollection of reports of this man, and the citizens have formed a watch tosearch for him.” Eh? Really? I had no idea. I barely ever left the house,so I was out of touch with the goings on around town.

“At first I thought it was a trick of the light, or anillusion,” the doctor said, “But more and more people came, so I wasforced to conclude it’s some sort of mass hysteria. A delusion everyonebelieved.” He paused, and sighed deeply.

“But truth is, he came to me last night. This man with blackwings. He really exists. That was no delusion. I…don’t know if he’s of thisworld or not, but he is real.”

“……!” The delusion even reached the doctor? Should hestill be examining people? I looked at Lisa Lisa, concerned.

“Do you remember what happened five years ago, Jorge? WhenStraits and the others came, and told everyone not to leave their houses?”Of course I remembered. A chill ran down my spine.

“Is that happening again?”

“Yes. This time we will be thorough.” I was scared now.

“He spoke to me,” the doctor said, his eyes as glazedover as Edvard’s had been.

“’Close your eyes, lie down, and think about tomorrow,’ hesaid.” The exact same line, word for word. Even scarier.

“Don’t do as he says, Doctor,” Lisa Lisa said.

“Lock yourself in your house tonight, and if anythingfrightens you, retreat even

farther inside.” The way she put it was the scariest.

“What happened five years ago?” Penelope asked me.

“I remember locking myself in, but…” I couldn’t beginto answer.

The three of us walked home in silence to find Straits andMum sipping tea in the parlor. The mood was hardly pleasant. In fact, it was sotense I wanted to cry. There was no escape anywhere. Everything on the islandwas terrifying. After greeting them, Lisa Lisa said, “Mama Erina, I thinkit’s time Jorge knew the truth about what happened to his father.” Mum puther teacup on the table.

“Yes, I suppose you’re ready to hear the story, even if itis a frightening one.” Nononononononono I definitely wasn’t but I couldn’tsay that or even shake my head I was already too scared to move.

“Should I wait in my room?” Penelope asked. Mum shookher head.

“You should stay, too. This story concerns not just theJoestar family, but all mankind.” And then she told the story. I had knownthe name Dio – god in both Italian (Dio) and Spanish (Dios) – as the name of anuncle of no blood relation. My father had uncovered a plot of Dio’s to slowlypoison my grandfather, George, and when the police came to arrest him, he’dresisted, and the Joestar mansion had burned to the ground. That much was as I’dheard it, but the ending was different. Dio did not die. Mum’s story began withthat correction.

Dio Brando – he’d kept the name, even after being adopted bythe Joestars – had stabbed my grandfather right in front of Jonathan and thepolice, then put on a stone mask that had been found in an Aztec ruin inMexico. He’d wiped blood across the surface of it and long needles had shot outand stabbed him in the

head. What should have killed him instead turned him into avampire. He destroyed the police with ferocious strength, and fought with myfather. In the end, both survived the fire with substantial injuries. My fathermet a man named Will A Zeppeli who taught him a secret method of breathingbased on ripples, called Hamon breathing. Armed with this technique, my fatherfought Dio again in a small English town called Wind Knight’s Lot. Dio couldrob a body of all heat in an instant, and my father seemed close to losing, butmanaged to turn the tables and emerge victorious. But he failed to confirm thekill (according to Lisa Lisa’s evaluation) and let the vampire fall into thevalley. While Dio’s body had been destroyed by my father’s Hamon, he managed tocut off his own head before the Hamon reached it, and survived. He lay low fortwo months, without a body, surviving with the help of his zombies. Then hesnuck aboard the ship my parents were taking their honeymoon on, and fought myfather a third time. As my mother reached the engine room they were fightingin, some sort of bodily fluid light beam shot out of Dio’s eyes, and pierced myfather’s hands and throat. On the brink of death, my father used his lastbreath to send Hamon rippling through a zombie that attacked, manipulating thezombie into destroying the ship and the zombies on it. My mother wanted to diewith him, but he convinced her to take baby Lisa Lisa, found crying near hermother’s corpse, and climb into the special box Dio had constructed. Two dayslater she was found floating in the box by some fisherman from the CanaryIslands…

When this long, insane story ended, Straits said, “Eversince Dio opened the long lost door to the land of the dead, complex echoes offate and causality have led to dark powers rearing their heads in many lands,and we have been unable to stop the fallout from these completely. On thisislands it seems another zombie or vampire has appeared. Even though we thoughtwe killed them all five years ago.” I remembered the sunlight turning Mr.Hernandez to dust, and the…the Hamon? Lisa Lisa had used to destroy AlejandroTorres, and couldn’t stop shaking.

“This is an island,” Lisa Lisa said.

“Vampires and zombies can’t come here by land. There arelarger islands, more populated islands, but this is the second incident on LaPalma. We’re starting to wonder if there’s a stone mask on this land.”Lisa Lisa looked right at Mum.

“Mama Erina, we have a question for you. We’ve spoken to thefisherman that rescued the two of us. They said they found us 100 km south eastof La Palma, floating in a big black box that looked like a coffin.”

Ehhhh? A coffin? Antonio Torres had called me the whiteraft, but it was actually a black coffin? Lisa Lisa glanced at me quickly, thencontinued.

“It was big enough to fit a full grown man. There werecushions on the inside, and it was designed to shield the occupant fromexternal blows. It sounds a little excessive for a coffin, but that’s what thefisherman all called it. Was it a coffin, Mama Erina?” I looked at Mum,and she seemed to be gritting her teeth against some pain. She stared grimlyback at Lisa Lisa, but didn’t answer.

“The fisherman also said that when you stepped out of yourcoffin raft, you had a baby, me, and something else, in a bundle made fromfabric torn off the hem of your dress. They said you clutched it closely toyou…and that it was about the size of a human head.” …the size of ahead? Then Lisa Lisa thought it was a head? “You didn’t bring Dio Brando’shead to the Canary Islands, did you, Mama Erina?” Lisa Lisa asked.

“You wouldn’t have left Jorge’s father’s body on the sinkingship, and brought a vampire’s head with you, shielding it from the sunlight?Right?”

There was a harsh gleam in her eye. This was what she’dmeant by thorough. They were not even planning on showing mercy to family. Butthat question crossed the line.

“Mum would never leave Dad behind! Lisa Lisa, you’re beingridiculous!” I said. But Lisa Lisa never took her eyes off Mum. Why wasn’tMum saying anything? She could silence Lisa Lisa with a word! My desire todefend her was slowly giving way to anxiety. At last she broke her silence.

“That…was not Dio Brando’s head.” Thank goodness! Ofcourse it wouldn’t be, stupid Lisa Lisa. I was about to yell at her when Mumspoke again.

“That was the head of my husband, Jonathan Joestar.”

For the first time in my life I was scared of my Mum.