He strikes late at night. His target, a pretty young woman with brown curls, is walking home from class. He chuckles to himself as he thinks about what he’s about to do. Quickly, he moves from the bushes, drawing his knife and lunging at the woman.

She runs, screaming as loud as she can. He doesn’t mind; he expected her to run. She dashes for the nearest building, hoping to get away. That’s when she steps into his trap.

Her foot falls into a slipknot made thin string, so thin that she can barely make it out. She falls to the ground and feels a creature crawling on her back, creating more string and binding her limbs. Suddenly, she feels very, very tired. As she slips from consciousness she looks at her back, at the creature tying her up, and sees nothing.

He walks over to his trap and smiles. The creature abandons the woman and returns to its master, taking its place on his shoulder.

+++

Our story begins in the summer of 2011, in the City of London, on a swelteringly hot day. A young university freshman sits in the stuffy office of one of her professors, a small windowless room filled with bookshelves overflowing with old tomes. She wipes a few drops of sweat from her brow and regrets her decision to wear black. She’s been sitting in the office for ten minutes now, watching as her professor silently flips through an old history book. Then she notices it, an ice cold can of soda sitting on her professor's desk next to a tuna sandwich. Beads of condensation drip down from the can and plop on the professor's wooden desk.

The student glances at her professor, who is still enthralled by his book. Slowly, she reaches for the can of soda. The ruler moves faster than the eye can see, bursting through the air and striking the student in the hand the moment her finger touches the can. The student glances up at the man holding the ruler, her professor with an angry look on his face. “I do not recall giving you permission to touch my belongings, Miss Jonestar,” he says. “In fact, I recall instructing you to sit here quietly while I finished reading this passage, an instruction you seem incapable of following.”

“Joestar,” the student mutters.

“Excuse, me, I didn’t catch that,” the professor says. “Speak louder when you’re spoken to.”

“My name is Joestar, sir,” she says.

The professor rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he says, voice full of sarcasm. “Please forgive me for misremembering the stupid name of one of my countless students.”

The professor, an old man named Dr. Dre, is a tall, chubby man with horn-rimmed glasses. He wears a tweed jacket and a tie covered in the logo of his favorite soda brand. He has been a history teacher for thirty years now, a position he adores because it gives him a microcosm of power, a power that he enjoys abusing as much as possible, much to the dismay of his students.

He pulls the ruler back and discovers that Miss Joestar’s finger hasn’t moved from the soda can. She stares at him for a moment before slowly pulling her hand back. The professor rolls his eyes.

“You made me lose my place in my book, young lady,” the professor says with a scowl.

“I’m sorry,” Miss Joestar mutters.

“Now then, what was it that was so urgent that you felt the need to bother me during my lunch break?”

“Mr. Dre-”

“Dr. Dre.”

“Dr. Dre, I was hoping to talk to you about the recent exam.”

Dr. Dre scoffs. “Of course you are,” he says. “Every hour another one of my students comes here to complain about receiving a bad grade. It isn’t my fault that you children decided against showing up.”

“Sir, you changed the location of the test to a room on the other side of campus,” Miss Joestar says. “You also moved the time of the exam to six o’clock in the morning instead of noon. And you only notified us of this change two hours after the test ended.”

“Excuses, always with the excuses.”

“Sir, I was wondering if there was any way I could retake the exam, seeing as it is worth thirty percent of my grade.”

“Sucks to be you.”

Miss Joestar sighs. “I'm’ sorry to have wasted your time, sir,” she says before walking out of the office.

Professor Dre chuckles and grabs his soda. He pulls the tab and a torrent of soda bursts out, soaking his coat.

+++

The Joestars. This proud clan of British aristocrats immigrated to the United States in 1892 and became one of the wealthiest families in the country after earning fortunes in the oil and real estate markets. Using this wealth, they co-founded the Speedwagon Foundation, a top of the line medical research organization. Unbeknown to most people, the true purpose of the Foundation is the study and acquisition of supernatural phenomena.

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For generations, the Joestars have dedicated themselves to this purpose, transforming themselves into honorable warriors dedicated to the protection of the world. But, after more than a century of battles, the family has begun to dwindle.

Johana Joestar was born in 1992 to Foundation President Joshua Joestar. Johana’s childhood was dedicated to preparing her for her destiny as head of the Speedwagon Foundation. From the moment she was born, she spent every waking moment studying history, science, and mythology, as well as training in martial arts, so that she could one day protect the world, like every Joestar that came before her.

Johana rejected this path and ran away from home at the age of fifteen. Three years later, she moved to her family’s country of origin and began studying history at Lonely Castle University in London. She wants nothing to do with her family. But, destiny is a fickle mistress, one that few can slip away from.

+++

Johana walks out of the class building. Her friend, a Japanese girl named Kan, is leaning against the doorway, strumming a guitar. “So, is Mr. Dre still a dick?” Kan asks.

“Unfortunately,” Johana replies.

“I had him my first semester. I remember one time, he gave us fifteen minutes to do a fifty-page test. One of the guys in my class actually started crying. Does he still drink that crappy knock-off soda, Sparite?”

Johana smiles. “Yeah,” she says. “Actually, I met with him during his lunch break, so he had a can with him. I shook it up while he wasn’t looking.”

Kan laughs. “You know, people say you’re an unfriendly jackass with absolutely no sense of humor, but you can be pretty clever when you want to,” she says.

“Who says that about me?” Johana asks.

Kan ignores Johana and places her guitar in its case. “I’m putting up flyers for the concert tonight, can you help me?” she asks.

Johana nods her head and Kan does a little victory dance. She runs off to the library to print off fliers, Johana following closely behind.

+++

Johana Joestar and Kan Nijimura met their first week of college. Both freshman new to the country, the duo bonded and quickly formed an ironclad friendship in spite of their different hobbies and temperaments. Kan is boisterous, energetic, and quick to make friends. She has bleach blonde hair cut into a mohawk that hangs down over half of her head. On this hot summer day, she wears black jeans, a gold belt, a t-shirt with an infinity sign and a diagram of the evolution of man printed on it, black heels, a pair of spike covered bracelets, and a denim jacket. The left arm of her jacket has been ripped off, showing a variety of rock band tattoos.

Johana, on the other hand, dresses plainly, wearing a tank top, skirt, tights, and boots, all black. Her dark blue hair is pulled into a bun and a pair of glasses sit on her nose. She’s the quiet, studious girl who always sits in the corner of a room while Kan is the girl who yells out the answer before the teacher can even call her name.

As she chases after Kan, Johana flashes back to the night they met. She was walking home from class, late at night, when she saw a man in a ski mask following Kan, holding a knife in his hand. At first, she turned her head away and continued on her way, not wanting to get involved. Then she heard Kan scream.

She moved without thinking, dropping her books and running to save Kan. Johana jumped into action and kicked the man in the face. He dropped the knife and ran away while Johana tended to Kan.

Kan was fine, she’d screamed before the man could do anything. In fact, instead of being terrified like Johana had expected, Kan was starstruck. “You saved my life!” she said.

Johana blushed. “Well, I don’t know about that,” she mumbled.

“That was so cool! You came out of nowhere and beat the shit out of that guy! It was like something out of a kung fu movie.”

From that day onward, the two were inseparable. They ate together, they studied together, they even started living together during their spring semester. Johana taught Kan self-defense and Kan introduced Johana to her favorite bands. For the first time since she ran away from home, Johana had a friend.

+++

“I think tonight’s show is going to be really good. We managed to borrow a small stage and some equipment from the music department, so it’s going to be like a real show!” Kan says while she and Johana wait for the flyers to finish printing.

“Show’s at eight thirty on the quad, right?” Johana asks.

Kan nods her head. For five months now, she has been the bass guitarist of a rock band she co-founded called Lifeless December. “Are you coming?” Kan asks.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Johana says.

They pay for the flyers, handing handfuls of change to a library employee with buck teeth who gives them a dirty look, and leave the library to go get lunch. As they walk through the college campus, they come across something rather odd.

A large white cocoon, as tall as Johana, sits by the doorway to one of the dormitories. “What’s this?” Kan asks while reaching her hand out to touch the cocoon.

Johana slaps her hand away. “What?” Kan says.

“Don’t touch it, it looks weird,” Johana replies.

“Okay, I won’t touch it. That doesn’t answer my question though. What is this thing?”

“It’s probably just a modern art exhibit or something. Best to leave it alone.”

As the duo walk away, Johana glances over her shoulders at the cocoon and feels an aura of menace that chills her to her bones. She knows that, whatever the cocoon is, it is evil, and she wants nothing to do with it.

When she walks into the school cafeteria, she sees something incredibly bizarre. A young man with blonde hair balancing with one foot on the back of a chair and the other folded over his waist. The young man wears a tight black tank top that shows off his toned body, dark green pants covered in white stars, a striped scarf covered in hearts, and a black beanie covered in four-leaf clovers. In his left hand, he holds a green banana. He taps it with his right hand and the skin of the banana turns yellow. He peels the banana and takes a bite.

“What’s that guy’s deal?” Kan asks.

Johana doesn’t say anything. She knows exactly what the guy’s deal is. It’s been years since the two saw each other last, but she’d recognize that dumbass smile anywhere. And, even if she couldn’t, she’d still recognize the star-shaped birthmark on the man’s left shoulder.

The man notices Johana and smiles. He does a backflip off the chair and walks over to Johana. “Cousin!” he says, arms spread for a hug.

Johana groans.