Chapter 38: Just Let Me Reach That Place!
Two hundred meters away, in a locked airport bathroom stall, Little Victor was fuming.
"He's pathetic," he spat, his voice a low hiss. "Utterly pathetic! My idiot brother, Victor! All he had to do was watch the target, and he still managed to get made! I was in the middle of... persuading... the flight crew for our little trip, and now I have to drop everything to clean up his mess!"
He shook his head, a tiny bell on his braid jingling faintly.
"Not only will I have to kill Jonas... I'll have to beat some sense into my brother after this is all over. Still... if we can just regroup, the plan is salvageable."
But out in the terminal, his brother Victor was in hell.
His face was ashen. Behind him, silent as the grave, [Invisible Black Monster: Oni] matched him step for step.
He knows! Victor's mind shrieked. He knows! He's just toying with me! He's going to kill me right here!
He was sweating profusely, the sound of the tiny bells his only beacon. One hundred and eighty meters to the rendezvous! He tried to calm his racing heart. Calm down, Victor. Maybe... maybe he's just testing me. He wouldn't attack without proof. He can't... right? Just let me reach that place!
He walked another thirty meters. One hundred and fifty to go. [Oni] was still just... following. Victor allowed himself to relax, just a fraction.
And then, [Oni] moved.
Victor's blood ran cold. He watched, helpless, as the Stand zipped over to a passing maintenance worker, deftly swiped a bottle of industrial lubricant from his cart, and, in a single, fluid motion, emptied its contents on the floor directly in his path.
He saw it. He saw it all. And he knew, with sickening certainty, that this was a test.
If I'm a normal person, I can't see the Stand, he reasoned, his mind racing. A normal person would just... slip. To maintain my cover... I have no choice. I HAVE TO FALL!
"JONAS JOURDAN! YOU DEEEEVIIIL!" he roared internally.
He planted his foot. His expensive Italian leather sole hit the slick oil, and his leg shot out from under him. His other foot, planted firmly on the dry tile, held its ground.
"GYAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"
A sound of pure, unadulterated agony was ripped from Victor's throat as he was forced into a perfect, excruciating split. His custom-tailored, ten-thousand-dollar suit was now stained and ruined.
"Oh, mon Dieu! Sir! Are you alright?!" The maintenance worker rushed over, his face pale with panic. "My lubricant! It must have leaked! I am so, so sorry!"
Victor, needing a target for his boiling rage and humiliation, shoved the man's hand away. "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, YOU IMBECILE!" he screamed. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THIS SUIT COSTS?! I'LL HAVE YOUR JOB FOR THIS!"
He vowed, his eyes watering from the pain, that he would make Jonas suffer for this.
He pushed himself up, brushed the grime from his ruined suit, and continued his agonizing walk. The performance... it was perfect, he thought. He must believe me now.
One hundred meters... He was almost there.
He glanced over his shoulder. [Oni] was still there.
"WHYYYY?! ARE YOU MY STAND OR HIS?! LEAVE ME ALONE!" he shrieked in his mind.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself forward, just as a woman in a long skirt walked past, her arm linked with a mountain of a man whose biceps were thicker than Victor's thighs.
[Oni]... reached out. It grasped the hem of her skirt. And lifted.
"AH! PERVERT!" the woman shrieked, spinning around. She hadn't seen the Stand, of course. She had only seen her skirt fly up, yanked from the direction of... Victor.
The boyfriend stopped. He turned. He cracked his knuckles, a sound like small trees snapping.
"Hey. Bastard." His voice was a low rumble. "You're gonna harass my girlfriend... right in front of me?"
Victor was dumbfounded. He looked at [Oni], who was now crouched innocently on the floor, just... watching. He looked at the angry couple. He looked at the pointing, disgusted bystanders. He looked back at [Oni], his eyes screaming, YOU... YOU ARE PURE, CONCENTRATED EVIL!
"N-no..." Victor stammered. "You don't understand... It wasn't me!"
POW!
The boyfriend's fist connected with Victor's face, sending him spinning to the ground, his nose erupting in a fountain of blood.
From his comfortable seat fifty yards away, Jonas, who had been watching the entire show, finally lost his composure and burst into laughter.
Victor lay on the ground, his world spinning, the laughter of the crowd ringing in his ears. A white-hot, homicidal rage filled his heart. He wanted to summon his Stand. He wanted to kill all of them.
But he couldn't. [Oni] was still right there, watching. And he could hear the sound of approaching security. Security had guns.
And his Stand... his Stand couldn't block bullets.