JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Twisted Destiny

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 10 (v.1) - The Stranger on the Phone

Submitted: July 20, 2019

Reads: 16

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Submitted: July 20, 2019



Chapter 10: The Stranger on the Phone


Nero pushes open the door to the incinerator room. It’s deserted. Small puddles, remnants of the now melted icicles that filled the hospital, dot the floor. The arrow sits next to the incinerator.

The arrowhead is golden, with a carving of a beetle with a single red eye.

Kan stumbles into the incinerator room. She’s changed back into her normal outfit, and a bandage covers her broken nose. “Hey,” she says.

“Miss Nijimura, how are you feeling?” Nero asks.

“Confused, mostly. This guy showed up to attack Mylo. He elbowed me in the face,” Kan says. “Last time I saw Mylo, he was running to the second floor.”

Nero frowns. “He’s dead, isn’t he?” Kan asks. “You said the ice would go away if he died, and it's gone, so-”

“Mylo has passed away, unfortunately,” Nero says.

“And the man chasing him?”

“Johana defeated him.”

“Where is Johana now?”

“She’s with Mylo’s body right now. I told her that I’d grab the arrow so we could leave.”

Kan shoves past Nero and grabs the arrow by its head. “Let’s get out of here, Johana shouldn’t be alone right now,” she says.

As Kan and Nero leave the incinerator room, a drop of blood falls from Kan’s finger and falls on the wet floor.


Johana leans down and closes Mylo’s eyes. She sighs. “I'm sorry I couldn’t protect you,” she says. “The man who killed you, I broke every bone in his body. He won’t hurt anyone else for a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Johana spots something shiny by Mylo’s foot. She reaches down and picks up a silver bracelet with a small red gem in its center. Johana glances at Mylo’s foot. Two small holes dot his ankle.

Slowly, Johana puts the bracelet on her wrist. Two metal spikes emerge from within the bracelet, stabbing into Johana’s wrist. Johana screams and summons her Stand, who punches a wall before disappearing. Johana stumbles back and attempts to rip the bracelet off, to no avail. The spikes are lodged too deep, making it impossible to remove without damaging her wrist.

Johana hears a cellphone ringtone. She looks at the wall, at the hole in the drywall created by her Stand. An old flip-phone sits within the wall, ringing. Slowly, Johana grabs the phone and opens it.

“Miss Joestar, how nice of you to pick up,” the voice on the other line says. “May I call you Johana?”

The voice on the other line unnerves Johana. It doesn’t sound like the voice of a human. Rather, it sounds like a crowd of people all talking at once, their voices echoing and mixing together into a chaotic cacophony.

“Who is this?” Johana says.

“Someone very interested in the events of the past night, Johana,” the voice says. “Tell me, were you afraid when Mr. Burnham ripped you out the window? Or were you calm as you soared through the air, because you knew that you would be the victor?”

Johana doesn’t respond. “Rest assured, Johana, your victory was not a fluke. From the moment that battle began, there was only one possible winner,” the voice continues. “Not because you were stronger, or more intelligent, but because fate declared that you would be victorious. Just as fate decreed that Mylo Xyloto would die at the hands of Mr. Burnham, it demanded that you survive this ordeal.”

Johana clenches her fist. “I’m going to ask you again, and I expect to get an actual answer this time,” she says. “Who. Are. You?”

“Forgive my rudeness, Johana,” the voice says. “You can call me Woodstock.”

“Woodstock?” Johana repeats, flashing back to the things Mr. Burnham said before killing Mylo. “You’re the one who gave Mylo this bracelet, right?”

“Admittedly, that could have gone a bit smoother. He forced me away before I could explain the significance of that bracelet to him.”

“What do you mean, forced you away?”

“Normally, when I bestow a Stand upon someone, it takes a few hours for it to fully manifest. Mylo’s, on the other hand, materialized almost instantly. My fingers froze together as I placed the tracker bracelet on his ankle, leaving me unable to retrieve my arrow.”

“You’re the one who shot Mylo?”


“Why? Why did you force him into this madness? What did he do to you?”

“I didn’t give Mylo a Stand out of some petty revenge, Johana,” Woodstock says. “I gave it to him to see if he was worthy. As it turns out, he wasn’t.”

“We won’t let you get the arrow back,” Johana says. “No one else is going to suffer for your entertainment.”

“If I needed the arrow, there wouldn’t be anything you could do to keep me from taking it. Fortunately, I have already created more than enough Stand Users for what comes next.”

“What comes next?”

“War. Not literal war, of course, but something close enough for our purposes. Soon, the Stand Users in this city will begin hunting one another. That bracelet, the one that was around Mylo’s ankle and now is now embedded in your wrist, it is more than just a piece of pretty jewelry. It’s a tracking device. I distributed them to each of the Stand Users I created or found. Using these trackers, I am able to pit Stand Users against one another and see who comes out on top. For example, I sent Mr. Burnham to that hospital tonight so he could fight Mylo Xyloto.”

“I don’t understand. Why would people kill one another just because you tell them to?”

“I envy your naivety, Johana. Violence exists at the center of man’s heart. All these people need is a little push.”

“What kind of push?”

“The promise of power. I possess a method of unlocking a Stand’s full potential, a way to turn even the weakest Stands into unbeatable warriors. Most people would kill for that kind of power. Take Mr. Burnham, for example. Three months ago, he was a timid office temp with anger issues and mood swings. I gave him a Stand and he transformed into the man you met tonight. He robbed banks, he killed those who wronged him, he flew through the air with a power most people dream of, and still he wanted more. I told him I’d strengthen his Stand if he killed a few Stand Users and brought their bracelets back as proof. You know the rest.

“Why are you doing this?”

“To find the strongest Stand User in London. To find the individual fate has chosen to win. To give the power of God to someone worthy of its might.”

Johana rolls her eyes. “Have fun with your little death game, Woody,” she says. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to not having my life threatened every three minutes.”

“If only it was that simple, Johana,” Woodstock says. “You put on Mylo’s bracelet. You’re a part of this now.”

“Like hell I am!” Johana shouts. “I don’t care about Stands, or power, or your stupid little game. I just want to go back to my normal life.”

“You can run away, if you’d like. It won’t end well for you, though. I told my Stand Users that I’d give share the secret to unlocking a Stand’s ultimate potential to the one that brought me all of the bracelets. The spikes in that bracelet won’t retract as long as you breathe. Best to try and win, rather than die while running away.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Johana says before snapping the phone in half.

Kan and Nero walk over, carrying the arrow with them. Johana glances over at Mylo’s body and sighs. “Let’s get out of here,” she says.



Chapter 11: Guns N’ Roses, Part 1

© Copyright 2019 Eugene Conard. All rights reserved.


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