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Mad Father: DioBack then, he didn’t have a name. He couldn’t even remember his own name! When he was alive - before he could only see through one eye - old memories escaped him. The strange man found ways to cloud his dirtied past. A dirty life he lived, but he would redeem himself.
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He felt his own parents took the form of the kind man; brooding dark eyes behind glasses. The woman, his mother, was the man’s assistant with the eerie, green eyes. True, he ran once, but he had forgotten how when that fateful winter came.
All of the other victims were housed here and nameless. They were just them. A boy was just a boy. A girl was just a girl. Some adapted to German and others used gestures to communicate.
What intrigued the youthful boy, what this one-eyed child came to be known as, was the Greek man always muttering about multiple gods. A culture of the Olympians, he would tell the boy. The storyteller told him many myths, but the main character he related to was Hephaestus. A god who
Burning God Dio watched the little dark haired girl leave as the world around him burned. He had grown attached to her as the night progressed; she was so brave, so smart, so beautiful. He could see why her mother was so desperate to protect her, if Aya were turned into a doll that proud spirit she had would be destroyed. Dio didn’t want that. So he protected the younger girl, just like her mother asked. He hadn’t expected to grow fond of her though.
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He wasn’t a fool, he knew it was impossible. Dio was dead, a corpse given life and sustained by the power of a curse cast by a scorned woman; once the night was over and the mansion burned to the ground he would be gone. Even still, he couldn’t help his thoughts. He still asked himself that awful question. What if? What if things were different? Would he have stood a chance then?
Dio was burning; he didn’t much care, he was already dead; it hurt, but only a little, his thoughts hurt far more. A small,