Dio Brando

Dio craved power more than he should have, letting people perish and allowing all those who supported him to get away with it. That's why, as soon as he felt power creeping in, he amassed so many henchmen who, just as they were, suffered from a certain cruelty that the world rejected, that people repulsed... that he loved to control in order to rise above them.

London taught him to be charismatic and to easily deceive so many idiots fascinated by power and evil deeds in order to get what he wanted. This happened with the patriarch George Joestar, whom he detested despite all his attempts to give him an education and refined manners above his son, that fifth-rate rich kid who dared to question him and oppose him in the name of everything "right" and everything good for which he fought.

He hated Jonathan Joestar… correction, he hated everyone in his lineage for their convictions against all that is good, and if this were a hate letter, he would write thousands more words explaining what he wanted to say. But, no, unfortunately or fortunately, it wasn't. This point connects to where, of course, Jonathan Joestar, by leaving him badly wounded, managed to lower Dio's defenses, causing him to fall and temporarily cling to the body that one of his henchmen had thrown moments before, all in an effort to survive.

And the pain was unbearable; the nerve endings connected to that body made him stifle his loudest scream as he felt, in part, the bones of that sick individual pressing against him. The pain was so excruciating that he lost consciousness. He awoke who knows how many days later, bandaged up to parts of his body he didn't even know he possessed, unable to move of his own volition.

"Where... am I?" was all he managed to say, given how cozy and calm the place was, which apparently offered a window overlooking the day, a day that would eventually burn his perfect skin with its special vampiric characteristics.

She couldn't lose her composure.