He was sat in the velvety chaise longue sofa, rubbing his temple as his teeth barred, his book forgotten on his lap as his stomach twisted and churned in the familiar cramping he got every month

Ridiculous.. He, who had slaughtered many without hesitation, who had clawed his way up the latter with no care for whom he hurt along the way, DIO fucking Brando, was reduced to pitifulness as his Monthly’s creeped up and make him feel sickly. Even with the Mask and the Vampirism it came, damn it all..

A knock on his door jostled him out of it, glaring at the heavy wood in irritation

“ Who is it?” He grumbles, not wanted any visitors while he was like this