Prologue

Glorious Sonic Cabal Prologue

The hotel room was dead silent, not even a rattle from the AC system, nor the bustling life of the New York City Street below graced the atmosphere. A figured stood blanketed in the protection of darkness, yet it’s cat like eyes shined as it thoroughly surveyed every inch in sight. Rage warred in them, as their movements became more and more frantic. Desperately scouring for something they had long desired a mere glimpse of, and with every long crawl of the third hand their fury swelled. Where was it? Where was the treasure they had long sought?! Where did they hide it?! Where?! WHERE?!

Cl-Click.

The door began to creak slowly, the silence of the room finally challenged by the echoes of life, and gingerly the light from the hall seeped into the room. The eyes slowly turned towards the door, overflowing with hatred for this intrusion, and longing to kill the interloper; yet now was no time for mistakes. No the intruder will be spared for now, for the eyes still had a vital mission that only they could accomplish, and there would be another chance to seize it’s objective.

Within seconds, light claimed the room, making the hapless maid victim to its ghastly contents. Before her three men’s bodies had been cut to pieces and sprawled across the room, only the three different heads and skin tones gave any indication of the number of the deceased. The crimson pools and splatters seemed to scream out to her, or rather it was her own scream, which she didn’t realize until her throat felt hoarse. Needless to say every living soul on the 35^th floor was made violently aware of the tragedy’s presence. Many gathered around, some became physically ill, others documented what they could with their phones, but there was one thing each of them had in common. They all asked, whether in their minds or aloud, who or what could have done this?

It was not long before New York’s finest were called in, but by that time more bystanders had gather, despite efforts to shoe them away, and their annoying attempts to catch a glimpse of a world they could not hope to understand, but loved to gasp about. The detectives had their own headache to deal with, namely what the evidence they had, and what it implied. A shattered lamb, cluing to there indeed being a struggle, the lack of hesitation in any of the wounds suggest the work of cold-blooded killer who was very familiar with the act. Yet, they could not find any trace of this killer. From what they could see there was no tampering with room’s windows, no trail of footprints in the shards of glass, only a bloody tarot card left soaking in one of the pools of blood, more than likely a calling of the killer; the card in question was of the World. The only conclusion that these seasoned, and rational, detectives could come to, was that these three men were murdered by some sort of ghost, and desperately searched for something to contradict this belief.

However, there was one soul amongst the bystanders that was also there to survey the room with a keen eye, a young beautiful Asian woman in a dark business suit and glasses. She was the only one in the crowd not gawking at the horrid scene; instead she felt a heavy burden, as she recognized the handy work. Anxiety filled every fiber of existence, as she knew that this was not the first, nor the last of a scene such as this, and just what the entire thing could be connected to despite her disbelief. Thirty Years, and still the world was feeling the impact of the monster the Crusaders had slayed in Egypt; his frightening influence had not even wavered once since his death, if anything it just accumulated. The woman silently followed the police’s request to vacate the floor, and being the only one to do so, allowed her to be the only occupant of the elevator she called; something that worked greatly in her favor. Once inside, she pulled out her cellphone and hit her first speed dial contact, and closed her eyes as she placed the humming device to her ear. Some part of her wished the line would not be answered; bad news was never pleasant to share.

“Yes?” No such luck for her, as the man’s voiced rang in her ear, and she let out a gentle short breath before responding.

“Its was as we feared, sir,” she said matter of factly,  “It seems that a Follower of DIO’s has surfaced and with a Stand. I also believe they are searching for the same artifact as us; the Well.” There was a long pause of silence, and within it she could feel the man’s dishearten expressions.

“I see,” he slowly replied, “Than I trust in your judgment on how the Speedwagon Foundation shall proceed throughout the course of these events, Ms Joestar.”

“Thank you sir. I already have a plan in mind.” She responded before gently ending the call, and her blue eyes shimmered with steadfast resolve. Once more, the responsibility of managing the damage from her family’s ancient feud, fell once again on their shoulders; her shoulders to be exact. With her nephew and his daughter still in physical therapy from their mission five years ago, her father’s advanced age, her brother being unavailable, and her great-uncle being estranged from the family, she was the only one able to face this new evil. But she would not face it alone, and she would see it defeated, or her name wasn’t Shizuka Joestar.

Disclaimer: Shizuka Joestar is a character from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure created and owned by Hirohiko Akira, I do not own the rights to her, or any other character of the series. This is a fan project, in which I make no form of profit from, and is purely a passion project.