Davis pulled away, a single strand of saliva connecting him to Joules.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” he purred. He licked his lips.

Joules would have wretched if he could. He could still smell and taste Davis on him, lingering like an unwelcome house guest. He redoubled his efforts to escape, but the binds were too strong.

“We must use all methods at our disposal to bring forth your latent potential,” Davis said. “Anything less is disrespectful. But there is no change without conflict. Let us see whose will will win out.”

Joule felt his heart begin to speed up. His mouth went dry and his stomach churned. His breaths came in short, shallow gasps. Fear, anger, rage all welled up inside him, but had nowhere to go. Powerless to change his destiny, all Joules could do was watch and wait, second by interminable second, until Davis’ ‘cultivation’ came to its inevitable end.

“It’s a good thing to take pride in one’s work,” Davis said, “But it is far rarer to take pleasure in it. I consider myself lucky in that regard.”

“Don’t you dare,” Joules said, trying to put some modicum of resistance behind his words. Instead, they came out more like a whimper of a cornered dog. “Get the hell away from me.”

“Fortunately for me, your compliance isn’t a factor,” Davis said. “But it wouldn’t be unwelcome. The things go much smoother with a willing participant.”

“Fuck you, you freak,” Joules said. “You’re not going to get away with this.”

The same wicked smile broke out once more across Davis’ face. He ran a finger down Joules’ exposed chest. Joules flinched at the touch as a wave of goosebumps covered his flesh.

“I think I will,” he said. “When I’m through with you, I’ll deal with the bitch, and then I’ll be-”

Davis let out a sharp cry. He threw his hands up to his face, desperately scratching at his temples. He collapsed to the ground in a heap, writhing and screaming.

“No! Get out of my head!”

And then Joules saw it. The pink skinned Stand, [Gold Digger] stood right behind Davis, bent over and whispering in his ear. Lorelei was still alive! Somehow, she had managed to attach her Stand to Davis. With his captor distracted, Joules began violently pulling against his restraints. While they weren’t metal like the ones in the first room, the thick leather attached to his wrists and ankles chafed and burned against his skin as he struggled.

Whimpers rose up from the floor as Davis rolled around, lashing out like a wounded predator at the air. His hands passed through the impermanence of [Gold Digger].

Come on, come on Joules, this is your chance!

He pushed past the pain as he scuffed the outer layers of his skin against the cuffs. He ignored the tears welling in his eyes. He’d cried enough over this sick bastard. All the anger inside him bubbled and boiled, poisoning his blood, stealing the very air in his lungs. He’d only fought back against the bouncer in self-defense. He’d felt threatened, cornered, but he was never in any real danger. Now, a new, yet altogether too familiar feeling dominated his mind.

He felt helpless.

The cold fear snuffed out all the hate and bile inside him. He hated Davis, hated what he’d done and what he planned to do to him. But that hate was dwarfed by one even greater. More than anything else in the world, he hated himself. Everything that had transpired up until that moment had been his fault. From the moment he’d stepped outside his dorm room, his fate had been sealed.

He was a failure, and had been his entire life. He’d blamed everyone he could: his parents, his teachers, and his friend. He’d even blamed God Himself, for cursing him. His life was worthless, and it had amounted to nothing. If he died there, strapped to that table, it would be the dribbling spurt of his pathetic life, discarded into the crusty sock of the universe. Forgotten at best and reviled at worst. He would die, and the world would spin on as if nothing had ever happened.

Fuck you.

The words were directed inward, at his Stand or whatever Lorelei had called it. If he was so special, why column’t he do anything now? Was he so broken that even with some supernatural gift, he couldn’t perform when it mattered the most?

Fuck. You.

Nothing Davis could do to him now could compare to the abject loathing he felt for himself. He deserved this. He deserved to be punished. He added nothing. He only took from others, leeching off of them like a parasite. He wanted to die.

FUCK YOU.

He screamed, a blood-curdling impotent howl against the heavens. He cursed the world with every breath. His blood began to boil, melting the hopelessness. No, he’d been life’s bitch for too long. He wasn’t going to die here. He was going to live, if only to spite the malevolent God who’d placed him in this nightmare.

Another light shone through the darkness obscuring his brain. Lorelei. If he failed here as he’d faile everywhere else, it wouldn’t just be him that was punished. Davis would finish him off then destroy the one person who might have real answers for what was happening to him. In that moment, he didn’t care anymore about Stands, or ‘stones’, or spirits. He didn’t even much care for himself.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

But, for the first time he could remember, he cared about someone else.

Nobody had ever depended on him before. Until now. He had to escape. He needed to break free. He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted to breathe. And the only way the two of them were getting out of this dungeon was through M. Davis.

White hot pain erupted in his left shoulder, far worse than anything Davis had ever done to him. It was as if he’d been shot by God himself. His screams echoed throughout the room, drowning out Davis, struggling on the floor, until he was sure his lungs would collapse.

Davis managed to grab hold of the table and pull himself up to his feet. The lustful glee in his eyes had been replaced with pure bloodlust. Blood trickled from his ears and nose. [Yellowcard] appeared on his shoulder. It began to flood the room with yellow gas. Joules saw [Gold Digger] fade away as Davis resisted its attack.

He found the knife from his pile of implements and jammed it into his thigh, gasping in pain. But it had the desired effect. [Gold Digger] disappeared completely.

“Those who stand in my way deserve to die!” he screamed. “I don’t care how much you beg! I don’t care how much you yell! It’s not fair!”

He pulled the knife out of his thigh and pressed it to Joules’ heart. Blood welled up as he pricked the skin. Joules couldn’t feel it, however, all sense of pain had fled from him, only to be replaced with a pure calm, like the solitude of the womb.

“Fuck you,”

A massive hand appeared beside Joules faster than Davis had time to register. Golden knuckles adorned the heavy hand as it curled into a fist.

“Ora!”

The fist connected with Davis’ face, demolishing the look of terror. He flew backwards, blood spraying from his nose before colliding into the nearby wall.

“What!?”

“You were right about my potential, you son of bitch,” Joules said. “Congratulations, you’ve helped me unlock my true power. [Do Dope Fuck Hope]!”

Now fully materialized, [Do Dope Fuck Hope] crossed its muscular arms. Its entire body was the color of a moonless night sky. On its fists were two golden plates, one labled ‘Do Dope’ and the other ‘Fuck Hope’. A bandolier of syringes crossed its wide chest. On its face, it wore a long beaked mask. The jaw seemed devoid of skin, giving it the look of a skull. White fire billowed from what looked like exhaust pipes extending from the back of its face.

“No, no!” Davis shrieked, clutching his broken nose. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way! It’s not fair!”

Joules yanked on his restraints, and this time they came undone as if they were made of tissue paper. He swung his legs over the side of the table, rubbing his bleeding wrists. He cracked his neck.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Joules said, embolden by the sudden turn of events. “You’ve been skating on thin ice for too long. Each person you tortured, each innocent you killed just got added to your tab. This is as fair as fair gets. You get off on the suffering and fear of others. I’m just here to give you a taste of your own medicine.”

“I don’t care if you’re the grim reaper himself!” Davis shouted. “You can’t beat [Yellowcard]! In my world, I get to decide what’s fair! Soon, the room will fill with gas, and no matter how powerful your stand may be, I’ll kill you with my own hands!”

“That’s the thing about fair, asshole,” Joules said, taking a step closer towards Davis. “It’s not up to pieces of trash like you.”

“[Yellowcard]!”

The creature continued pumping gas into the room. Despite his newfound vigor, Joules’ legs grew weak, and his eyes watered. He propped himself up with his hand as he fell against the table.

“When you meet the devil,” Joules said between coughing fits, "be sure… to ask him… about what ‘fair’ really means.”

[Do Dope Fuck Hope] unclasped a syringe from his bandolier. He launched towards the enemy Stand, catching it in his fist. [Yellowcard] let out a deafening whistle that brought Joules to his knees.

“You fool!” Davis shouted. “You should have gone for me! Any attack against my stand is useless! There’s no escape now!”

The effects weren’t as instantaneous as he thought. He felt [Do Dope Fuck Hope] freeze, then, slowly, the fire inside began to burn away the chains that this time bound his own spirit. Inch by spiritual inch, he annihilated [Yellowcard]’s hold over him like a wildfire consuming dry brushland.

[Do Dope Fuck Hope] jabbed the syringe into [Yellowcard]. Blood erupted like a broken faucet from Davis’ mouth as he gagged. The syringe pulled back, filled with the sickly yellow of [Yellowcard]’s gas.

“Impossible!” Davis roared, spraying blood with every word. “It’s not fair! You can’t do that!”

“I’m sick and tired of people telling me what I can and can’t do.” Joules said. “But I think I understand you more, Davis. I’m curious now. I still don’t know everything about my Stand, but I’m eager to learn. I think I could learn a lot from you. So, that being said, I guess I have to thank you. In the end, you were right; I don’t know if I’d ever unlock the power within without your help. Your contribution will not be forgotten.”

Joules got back to his feet. He couldn’t even smell the gas anymore. It was as if his own aura burned the toxin from the air. It smelled clean, like home, like a fresh start. There was just one asshole rapist sized problem left to be dealt with.

“What do you think will happen when I put this in you?” Joules asked, mocking his helpless foe. “Who am I kidding? A wise man once told me that your compliance isn’t a factor, but it would not be unwelcome. Be sure to thank me before this is all over. If you think about it, I’m just doing you a favor. The responsibility of the strong and all that.”

Davis lunged towards Joules. In th space between seconds, Joules saw in his opponent’s eyes the same helplessness and rage that had once plagued him, once held him back more than any shackles ever could. He recognized it like walking through a childhood house. At one point it had been his, had shaped his life, his memories, his experiences, but it belonged to someone else now.

The result was never in any doubt. [Do Dope Fuck Hope] was impossibly faster than Davis. It caught the man in his hand by the throat and lifted him straight off the ground. Davis clawed at the iron vise gripping him, and he began to turn blue.

“Can’t breathe?” Joules chided. “Let’s see if this helps.”

“Curse...you,” Davis managed between desperate gasps for air. “Curse… you… Jojo.”

Joules shook his head. “Like I said. My name’s not Jojo.”

[Do Dope Fuck Hope] plunged the syringe into Davis’ chest like a shot of adrenaline, pumping the yellow gas inside in one fluid motion. Summoning the last of his power, Davis screamed before his eyes bulged out of their sockets until the orbs exploded in a shower of gore. The man’s screams turned to gurgles of a drowning man. His skin began to rot and sag, until it sloughed off the bones like clothes three sizes too big.

M. Davis would never hurt anybody ever again.

To be continued...