arrivederci giogio

Chapter 4- brutta serata

He had gone into a cold sweat, his body aching and shaking as he ran. His legs trembled, but he knew he couldn't look behind himself anymore. Giorno just murdered Bucciarati, there was no doubt about it. He sniffled, wiping his tears away with his arm. There wasn't any time to grieve over one of the only parental figures in his life, no... He had to keep on running as much as it hurt him. And what about the rest of the gang? What was going to happen to them? A million questions ran throughout his head, none of which he could answer. It felt as if Giorno was a god, staring down at his tiny prey with beady, red eyes. Narancia's life was in his hands, and he knew that.

The clock read afternoon. The beautiful scenery that was once present disappeared, the grass was dry and pokey on his feet. It was colored a burnt yellow, very obviously dead. As for the sky, it was now painted a golden yellow, flooded with smoke. The trees were dead, yet alive, hugging poor innocent people to them. They were surely going to die, there was no doubt about it. The flowers had either grown eyes or mouths, sometimes even fingers, to whom would grab undeserving pedestrians and leave them to die. The flowers laughed and danced as Narancia ran past them, finding his suffering to be hilarious. The black haired boy continued to sob as he closed his eyes and ran forward. That was until he saw the figure himself...

Here Giorno was, standing beside one of his wretched creations. Narancia about froze in his tracks, realizing he was very much so living in a nightmare that had come to life.

"G-Giorno...," He stutters as he inches closer. From the back, Narancia could see the familiar golden braid, along with the magenta shirt and pants.

Giorno's neck cracked as he turned his head. His eyes were black with bright red pupils, and his skin had paled. His hair matched the awful dead grass yellow, rusted gold just as Narancia had remembered. And his clothes... They turned black in almost an instant. "Remember... This?" He questions with a grin upon his lips.

The spiky haired boy didn't even have a moment to think. Before he knew it, he was in Alba, to which was completely on fire. Narancia coughed as he inhaled and exhaled the smoke, the only air that was available to him. He was sobbing uncontrollably now as he ran through the fires, feeling the pain of his now singed skin.

"A-Aero... Agh, ugh...!" He coughed, running once more to try and escape the incalescence heat. "Aero... Smith...!" He manages to cry out, his stand coming forth. Narancia uses his stand to blast bullets behind him, launching himself further into the collapsing streets. He sits there for a moment, before he hears the familiar voice call out to him.

"How about... A game? Since you refused me asking so kindly. Heh...," The voice is harsh and sinister. Is it even possible for this to be Giorno anymore? That he cannot answer.

He feels the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he coughs out the smoke, his shoes melting right in front of his eyes. Before he can even comprehend it, Giorno starts running at him at extremely high speeds, reaching his hand out for Narancia. Narancia continues to have Aerosmith blast behind him, trying to escape Giorno as quickly as he could. He didn't have time to think of what could have happened to him, he just knew he had to get away. He continued to cry and cough, grieving over Bucciarati all the while. And what about the rest of the gang? Are they dead, too?

"You have to stop this...! What has come over you?!" He sobs as Aerosmith drops a large bomb, causing even more smoke to appear in the sky.

"Oh, Narancia... I'm just trying to have a little fun," The rusted blonde chuckles, continuing to chase him.

No matter what Narancia does, Giorno seems to always be behind him. Whether that is if he uses Aerosmith or not, it may not matter either. Giorno has never, ever ran as fast as he is now.

Some flowers laugh at Narancia while others just stare with three pairs of eyeballs. They're quite mocking, he decided. Eventually Narancia has Aerosmith throw himself onto the small plane, to which flies far above Giorno. The sounds the airplane makes calms him for a moment, bringing him back to the old memories of when he would go on missions for Bucciarati. That was, until...

"How foolish can you be, Narancia?! Even when I explain it to you over and over again, you don't seem to understand!" Fugo's voice ran throughout his head in that moment, something he wanted to hear over his own scream.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" A loud, piercing scream escapes his throat. The spiky haired boy had been foolish, and he and the plane both ran into a tree with just about four mouths. It bit Narancia's arm off, causing him to scream in terror, along with one of Aerosmith's wings disappearing. He could only run from here on out, and he looked behind him to see if Giorno was still chasing him. He wasn't. Was the coast clear at last? He's lightheaded. He feels as if he can barely think anymore, nor can he breathe. But this realization causes him to form a smile upon his lips. That was until...

"AGH!" He cries out in pain, tripping over his own legs. Narancia skids across the ground, right in front of a wretched plant. He feels as if he can't move anymore, just lying there as he cries and tries to get up using the one arm he has remaining. It is his right arm, the left had been removed by the tree. He can't lift himself up. Instead of trying to get up, he decides that all he can do is hide. He drags himself underneath the plant closest to him. The plant behind his body looks Narancia up and down repeatedly with its six eyes. He lies there sobbing, knowing that Giorno was most likely going to catch up to the poor boy and kill him. He accepts his fate, knowing there's no way he can escape. He hears Giorno's fast footsteps once again, covering his head with a hand as he hears them get closer and closer. Then suddenly... They stop. He blinks a few times, trying to decide if this was reality or not. Narancia simply gets up from the ground, running forward.

"Dead End." A wooden sign reads.

He turns around and starts running the other way, until the eye plant starts looking side to side repeatedly again.

He scratches the side of his head quizzically.

That's when it was heard. A thumping noise behind him. Giorno appeared again. This was it, he decided. This was his end.