I May Be Pathetic But At Least It's Aesthetic

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(Tons of thanks to netarre for the title name!)

"How much longer until we'll be there?" (Y/N) crossed her legs, leaning back into the seat and glancing upwards outside of the tortoise. The man on the screen was their only chance at defeating the boss, but none of them could know how soon that time would arrive. Everything was on a bet, all in, this could be their only hope, but it was enough to drive them forward, which is why they couldn't afford to doubt right now, they couldn't afford to hesitate on any decisions.

"It's in sight, so probably five more minutes." Narancia hummed, he was on steering duty for the time being, and the mainland was finally in reach. They knew this would not be as easy as they hoped, but they would surely make it through any challenges in their path.

The glow of the streetlamps illuminated the small fishing town, a few drunks blabbering to themselves after a long night at the bar, wasting their lives away with the simple, short pleasures of booze. Pink faced and woozy, two of them clung to the staircase, searching for a good place to piss. They would go up as soon as the drunks left, and after acquiring a car, they would be in Rome within 45 minutes. Searching for any opening to sneak through, the two drunks caught his eye again and he watched as the man in the red shirt was pried away from the water spout. But something was wrong. His legs, his legs were still wrapped around. His hand was still grasping the ledge. "Hey. How the hell am I supposed to reach like this? How am I supposed to open my fly?"

Narancia's jaw fell as his eyes trailed down to the man's torso, severing him from the rest of his body and green mold festering between the flesh and organs. Out of shock, the man dropped the body and lept over the edge, befalling the same fate as his body crumbled into nothing against the floor. This was a Stand attack, they were waiting for them, there was an enemy here!

Mista pulled his pistol up from his boot, aiming it at the two withered, infested corpses just as pain bloomed from his hand. Mold had already begun to eat away at the skin of his hand, pulsing and wobbling with a slimy texture that dug into his flesh. In the distance, a man handed his assistant a video camera. "Listen well, Secco. The thing you have to worry about most is running out of battery. Finding out later that it didn't record pisses me off more than anything else. You sure it's recording?"

The shell of his former being nodded, mind long broken until he had become just as twisted as his master. He held the camera to his face, angling it towards the two.

"What the hell is that, Mista?! When did that get on you?" Narancia shouted, staring in horror at the blob that grew on Mista's hand. No one knew, but this wasn't their priority, they had to find the enemy, but by the time Aerosmith searched the location, there were a ton of civilians already down. The enemy's range had already exceeded them, it had basically encompassed the entire village. "Damn it! I can't tell them apart!"

"Explain the situation, Mista!" Bruno ordered, staring up at them through the turtle's shell.

"My hand just suddenly bubbled up. I have no idea when this shit got on me. It's almost like mold... It's making my skin rip open... It looks like it's coming out from underneath my skin! The same thing came out of the villagers, and their bodies have fallen apart!" He answered, watching the slime continue to ooze from open sores that continued to bubble up, and (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows. Why? Why did that feel so familiar? Why did her body suddenly feel so hot and cold and not correct? Why did she suddenly fear such incomparable fear?

"This-This isn't good, Bucciarati! We can't go up on shore. There's no way we'll make it up the stairs to the parking lot. We're betting off getting away from the shore on the boat for now." He grimaced, searching around the area. So far, there wasn't anyone onshore, and he doubts anyone would be able to go there through the mounds of decaying bodies.

"Wait, Bucciarati! Until we know what attacked, it's too dangerous to move." Giorno reasoned, but if they went up on shore like the rest of them, no doubt that they will be attacked by whatever this thing is. Narancia bit his lip, leaping back into the boat to start it up, only for the mold to suddenly climb up his body in droves, eating away at his flesh and all over. The mold began to seep into the turtle, coating the walls in the slime as everyone turned up towards the ceiling in shock.

"M-Mista...!" He called, his body already disintegrating bit by bit from the rapidly expanding mold.

"Grab onto me!" He shouted, arm outstretched towards him.

"Mista! Don't stretch out your hand!" Giorno Called, and Abbacchio was quick to call him out. How else were they going to pull them all out before this slime engulfed them whole?! "No, This stand has something like a switch that gives it the chance to attack!"

"Chance to attack? What does that mean?" Mista paused his movements, his hand lowering slowly before rapidly pulling it back up as mold that wasn't there before began to climb up his fingers. "As soon as I lowered my hand, the attack began! Come to think of it, it first bubbled up on my hand after I reached into my boot to get my gun. That drunk jumped down from the stairs and got attacked. The other one had gone down the stairs... And Narancia had jumped down into the boat. So the attack begins when our bodies move down to a lower location?"

"Lower location....?" (Y/N) mumbled, inching backward. A thought came to mind. It was only a second. Only a moment. The woman in the hospital, when she turned her head to the one who collapsed from her chair. The day everything changed. Was this him? The man wearing the mask? "Him... Him!"

From Trish's thigh, mold had already begun to grow, followed by Giorno's hand, Bruno's hand, (Y/N)'s elbow, and finally, Abbacchio's calf. From the slightest of movements, they were all infected. Giorno had read about this once. There's a particular type of mold that inhabits the inside of a bug. When that bug moves to a lower location, it propagates inside it and kills it. Entomopathogenic fungus and caterpillar fungus. This is very similar to that! "If you move to a lower location from where you originally were, it reacts and attacks!"

"This is a Stand! Why in the world would it work like that?" Bruno's eyebrows furrowed.

"To expand the Stand's range even further! Just as the mold spreads from within the dead bug, the corpses produce more corpses. If the people move a bit further before dying, the mold's range just keeps growing. That's exactly what they want. This is the Stand user's unconscious will."

"Evil... He is evil...." (Y/N) whispered quietly, reminiscent of the vague, haunting memories. They bubbled like tar, an ooze that infected every single one of her thoughts in that sleek, black circular lenses of a camera, one that she could see her own pain reflected in.. "That man is nothing but the worst human on Earth, a being that thrives on the suffering of others and actively harms others just to fuel his own gruesome desires..."

"Climb up, Narancia! Get off the boat and back on shore!" This was something much harder than believed, the damage he had sustained was already far greater than expected, even standing took too much of his energy. (Y/N)'s stand could help. She could help! So why? Why couldn't she move? Why did it feel like she was strapped in place, that no matter how hard she thrashed, she would never be able to escape? Why couldn't she pull herself to do something? As he reached forward, the bone in his heel snapped. "Huagh! My foot!"

"Throw the turtle, Narancia, Throw it to Mista!" Bruno shouted, catching the attention of Trish.

Broken from her trance,  Soda City Funk pulled itself from the turtle, the stand activating and scooping up Narancia to throw them both onto the shore, careful to stay as hidden as possible. She knew it was that bastard. Where he was was unknown, but she knew this was his doing, and she didn't know if she would survive if she met him again. The aggressive toss threw Narancia into Mista, sending them both to higher ground in a smooth but painful skid. The turtle clatter to the side of them, throwing out both Bruno and (Y/N). "Well done, (Y/N)! As long as we move upward, their attack won't begin!"

"Yea..." She whispered, forcing herself to stand. She didn't want to be out here. Not right now. Definitely not right now. "Is everyone okay? Get Narancia inside the turtle so Giorno can heal them, I can burn off the mold on the outside."

Her heart pounded in her skull, unable to turn her head. She knew he was watching them. Watching her.

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Holy hell, 5k likes??? Y'all are killing me bro, I love you guys so much-

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