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FC/OC VS Battles Wiki

Note: This is a story set in the Paradise City universe after the main storyline. It is highly recommended that you read the rest of the threads and the blogs containing the conclusion before reading this.

One month after Final Countdown

Michal grumbled under his breath. Figured they'd sent him out for a mission as petty as this. Despite it all, while Mister Joestar trusted him, his "superiors" still didn't. So he was sent on frankly menial job that while important, could've easily been relegated to other, far less essential personnel.

In this case, the real estate mogul himself had sent him. And, a string of disappeared cattle in Kansas had to have been, by far, the DUMBEST SHIT he had ever heard in his professional career. Which, granted, had not been very long, but there had been some pretty dumb shit during that all.

The only thing to go off that indicated this wasn't any number of other natural or unnatural phenomena leading to disappearances of livestock was the founding of one of the corpses: it had been already rotting by then, but one wound was distinctive enough to make it into the local newspapers, and therefore catch the Foundation's attention.

"Mister Joestar, you don't think it's really her, right? I mean just look at how bad that photo is, it could be anything, literally anything els-"

"Right now Michael, I don't know what to believe," Joseph had said, voice stern. "All I know is that I need you, one of my best agents, to look at it."

Michael grumbled again under his breath, partly because of his, and partly because of the sheer awkwardness of navigating around in a wheelchair. Thankfully, here, alone, he could just use Shoot to Thrill to push him around. It would simply look weird if he did in a street full of people. Wheelchairs tended to not move on their own after all.

He arrived at the location pointed out by the locals, only to find...yep, absolutely nothing.

Go figure.

He had to at least give the place some credit though. It was definitely eerie, like something ripped off Night of the Living Dead. But he didn't care. He had a job to do.

He was distinctly surprised when he actually found something.

"What the-oh shit."

Shoot to Thrill automatically manifested fully after that, a distinct fear response. He'd simply bumped into a large lump, which he was just beginning to realize was a cadaver. A rather large one at that. And fresh as well.

"What happened to you?"

The more he looked at it, the more Michael had to agree this looked suspicious. The cadaver had almost no outward visible signs of trauma, and the same went from the inside from what he could discern out of hist Stand. But what it did have were five distinct healed tissue lumps around it's neck, roughly the size of a finger each.

Alright, yeah, definitely time to call in fo-

He saw the corpse twitch once. That was impossible. At this range Shoot to Thrill would've heard it's heart beating.

He had the Stand rocked him back just in time, as the cow lunged at him, jaws rowed with teeth bovines should never have.

"Well then..." Michael said. "Guess the only crazy one here is me; Hell's Bells!"

Before the creature had any chance to even move again, it was utterly vaporized in an instant by a flaming fist.

But that wasn't even the beginning of it. Soon, smelling fresh meat, more of the corpses give life gathered around him, surrounding him.

God there has to be like six of these bastards.

The zombified cattle moved toward him. If they had been human zombies, he might've actually been scared. But as it stood, he had a small smile: finally some action. It would mostly be a cathartic beatdown, but it was still appreaciated.

Just as Shoot to Thrill was poised to strike however, a blurr crashed out of the surrounding trees and dove into the lot. The light illuminating them from the Stand's flaming fists was not enough to make any sense of the mixtures of shadows and silhouettes that the situation became however, and Michael was forced to watch for about a few seconds.

By the time everything had been settled, six more corpses were littering the ground, now looking very much dead, with a sight that brought not fear but sadness into his eyes just a bit beyond them.

Her eyes were blood red and shining through the darkness, her robes were ragged and torn, stained with both old and newly-spilled blood. She had no shoes or socks, and she overall gave off the appearance of a feral something, with vicious nails and jagged teeth.

Yet despite all that, that face was still very much recognizable. As was the blue hair, no matter how wild it looked now.

He brought up his portable phone and called the number.

"Speedwagon Foundation, this is Agent Prince," he said. "Yes, no confirmed anomalies in the area. No, absolutely nothing. Yes. Yes. Very well, I'll see you at HQ."

He said, as he hung up and pocketed the phone. She was now averting her eyes to the floor, and he could she was sad. But he knew he couldn't really help yet. He was sure she had barely even heard him.

"Hey," he said. No response. "Hey!"

Her head snapped up and he almost flinched.

"The Sun is going to be up real soon. You uh, might wanna...you know."

A pause that lasted too long. Then a nod.

And just like that, she was gone. He caught her sprinting away, but beyond that, it was just shadows and more shadows, with her melting into the darkness.

Right on queue, the horizon began to light up from pitch black to a dark, beautiful blue. He let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry Steph."

He turned and wheeled away. The trip back home was going to be long. Too long.