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Chapter Text

The end was drawing near, and Simon knew that perfectly well.

He had seen many hunters go through the nightmare, curiosity leading them far, only to become succumbed to the madness of bloodlust, as any hunter had been fated too. Yet, the hunter that Simon met now was different. From their swift execution of the once proud and exuberant Ludwig, to the slaying of Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower amongst other beasts that stood in their way.

Now Simon had finally reached his acquired destination thanks to them. And he was thankful. He was met with the quiet gloominess of the rain mixed with the ghastliness of the broken and torn village he was now upon, the sounds of quiet yet piercingly noticeable wails coming from each corner, alongside the multitude of villagers that were shells of their past selves. Simon knew to be careful around them, lest he have face smashed in by their brutish force. One by one he took them out, whilst making his way amongst the roof tops to avoid the larger, brutish ones, carefully watching his steps with grace. His mind wandered to the good hunter, surely they were further ahead than him or at least somewhere, yet he didn’t seem to mind now. He would catch up to them like he did before.

His journey seemed to be going smooth sailing, and despite the bitter weather, Simon found a strange peace in it all, even despite the underlying pain that enveloped the hamlet. Yet that peacefulness dropped dead when Simon heard that familiar sound. A bell. It rang and rang and each time it did, Simon’s heart beat faster and faster. Before he knew it, he saw him. The beast-hide assassin. With swift motion Simon transformed the elegance of his blade to that of a bow and made his mark, Brador quickly closing the distance between them. A quick and light silver arrow sunk into Brador’s shoulder, yet he continued to run towards Simon with his bloodletter in tow. Before he could make the right timing, Simon swiftly dodged, all the while lodging yet another arrow into the back of that beast.

The two fought in tow amongst the rooftops, the sky and the bottomless pit of the sea being their only witnesses. Simon took care into where he dodged and where he shot, juxtaposed to Brador’s wild and brutish motions of force as he slammed his weapon into the shaky and unstable ground underneath them both. From Simon’s point of view he thought he could easily outrun him this time, if he just continued to shoot at him from a distance as a distraction. However, his thoughts would be proven wrong, When with all his might Brador launched himself into Simon. One of the many jagged and sharp points of his bloodletter cutting Simon's leg deep enough to cause commotion, causing Simon to cry out, and before he knew it, both of them fell from the roof into one of the decrypted rooms that lay amongst them. Simon winced as he saw the depth of the cut that was now on his shin, but even then he forced himself to get up in order to get away from Brador, but not before being met with a forceful kick to the face by the latter and being knocked down onto the floor yet again.

Simon’s whole body was shaking as he attempted to drag himself away, the gentle sounds of heeled footsteps approaching him slowly. Now Brador was standing upon him, his eyes were dull and as dead as they ever were, yet Simon could sense the beastliness in them that he had sensed so many times. They were both backed into a corner, the two stared at each other silently, before Brador slowly crouched down to Simon’s level. Simon was now truly face to face with him, Brador gently grabbing his chin to motion him to stare back. The two’s silence was finally broken when Brador spoke.

“Only a fool would have continued to brazenly roam in the dark to find the answers to the unknown” he muttered, continuing his eye contact with Simon. Simon’s eyes were shrouded in a ragged garb, yet Brador could sense his fears, even without Simon’s trembling. He forced Simon to look at him further when he tried to get free from his grasp, his head becoming limp.

"Only someone foolish enough would have done what you did, for all these years. Yet even despite so many warnings you continued, and for what?” he spat. Despite this question, Simon didn’t answer. His head was still staring at the ground. They both sat in silence, before Brador asked once more.

“And for what?, just so you could prove something?”

Brador waited patiently for Simon to respond with something, whether it be a plea or bitter insult. He waited. Finally Simon raised his head to look at him. And yet Brador’s question was only met with a disgruntled spit to the face and snarl from Simon. Brador stood still for a moment, before letting out a long sigh. He stood up, causing Simon to attempt to crawl away, but not before grabbing the bloodletter and lodging it deep into Simon’s already damaged leg. Simon let out a pained cry, the sounds of bones breaking rang in his head as he looked up at Brador in pleading pain. There was nothing behind those eyes, only the darkness that seemed to envelop him whole.

Simon’s body shook with pain as Brador pressed down, a large snarl looming over his face. Simon’s thoughts were racing rapidly in his head. That was until he noticed the loose arrow that lay near him, that Simon knew what he needed to do. As Brador continued to press down his bloodletter into Simon's leg, Simon with all the strength grabbed that remaining arrow, and with all his mighty force stabbed it deep, deep into Brador's chest. Brador halted his pushing motion as a steady stream of blood seeped through his chest. Simon's hands were trembling, whether from pain or fear, he couldn't tell anymore. Brador loomed over him quietly, the patch of blood further bleeding through his shirt at a rapid pace. Simon looked up at him. nothing. There was still nothing in those eyes. There was no need for Simon to continue pushing his arrow into Brador's chest, yet the high speed of his adrenaline pushed him further. The two made eye contact, the bandages that covered Simon's head were slowly starting to become undone, and the fear in his once hidden eyes became far more visible. Both remained quiet as Brador slowly began to cough up a heavy amount of blood, his eyes were still locked on Simon. Before long, Simon's hand stopped pushing his arrow, and Brador's body slumped, and before Simon knew it, he was gone.

Simon was now left all alone with only his thoughts and the paralysing pain. Sheepishly, he attempted to sit up, but the sudden shock of exhilarating pain stopped him in his attempts. He winced as he saw the battered leg upon him. It must've been completely shattered, and Simon knew that something as simple as blood vials would not help the situation he was in. He lay there quietly for a moment, his thoughts were racing as he understood the direness of his situation. With every attempt Simon tried to at least sit up, but was only met with excruciating pain, causing him to curse quietly to himself. After so long, Simon started to lose his strength, causing him to lay there hopelessly upon the floor. "What a pitiful sight" he thought to himself, the gentle sound of rain pattering against his surroundings. Simon laid there in silence, the once rapid fear beating in his heart slowly dissipating as Simon felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, despite his desperate attempts to keep his eyes open. Suddenly, Simon was alerted to the sound of footsteps approaching him. Quietly, he prayed for safety as they grew closer and closer. And his prayers were answered, as he looked up and saw the familiar face of that hunter he became accustomed to. There was rapid concern in their eyes as they looked upon his desperate situation, their hands were on his shoulders as Simon's eyes grew heavier by each minute. With that last futile bit of strength he had left, he spoke gently to the hunter, their eyes meeting his.

"…Please, I need you to do something…"

They looked up at him, listening with both patience and concern as Simon attempted further to speak to them. He felt so tired, but the words he wanted to say needed to be heard by them, lest he die in silence.

"…This village is the true secret, testament to the old sins... it feeds this hunter's nightmare" he muttered quietly. The hunter continued to listen, all the while looking up at their surroundings in case of any intrusion may appear.

"Please, bring to an end the horror..." he pleaded. His breathing got slower and slower, and he could see the anxiety of the hunter's face grow more as they attempted to foolishly help Simon in anyway they could. As Simon's posture became more slumped, he continued his eye contact with the increasingly disquieted hunter.

"So our forefathers sinned? We hunters cannot bear their weight forever"

There was a long pause as Simon's voice grew weaker and quieter. The hunter sat there quietly, the deep blackness of their eyes were strangely comforting.

"It isn't fair, it just isn't fair…"

And with that, Simon's vision grew dark and soon he too became enveloped in that familiar void of darkness that every hunter was destined to follow at some point.

Chapter Text

It was difficult to remember exactly when the first outbreak of the hunt began, or even who was the first to succumb to beasthood.

It had been so long since the first hunt, and many citizens of Yharnam became accustomed to the drill of the hunt. Yet even despite this, the fear of beasthood and the flesh hungry beasts that roamed the streets made its mark upon the city continuously. When the scourge did occur, the church acted swiftly to combat this, the occupations of hunters growing large in size. One of the first hunters that became recruited by the church were two hunters, Ludwig of the Holy Blade and Gehrman, both rather quaint gentlemen in their own right who both shared an equal amount of differences between each other. Whilst Gehrman seemed more isolated in nature, often hanging around the presence of the church's vicar, Laurence and the equally quiet Lady Maria, Ludwig appeared more outgoing compared to Gehrman. Despite their differences, both seemed to hold an air of mutual respect towards each other, even if the two rarely stayed for casual conversations.

Alongside their differences, Ludwig led a small group of church hunters, unlike Gehrman, who usually stuck with only one or two people during the hunt, each with their own variety of skill, whom Ludwig trained with honourability. Whilst many of his hunters showed a similar amount of outgoingness towards Ludwig and other members amongst the group, there was one member that caught Ludwig's eye more and more with each hunt. A younger gentleman by the name of Simon, who compared to most other members showed an air of isolation. He was a difficult man to describe, often separating himself from the group as soon as the hunt had been cleared, all the whilst being aloof in nature in the cases when he was around, the mocking nickname of 'harrowed' being crowned upon him by his peers. Furthermore, Simon showed a strong distaste for firearms unlike many of his compatriots, leading him to create a weapon more suited for his fashion, an elegant blade that split into a bow, and whilst an impressive feat, most showed an underlying sense of mockery when speaking of it. Perhaps it was for this reason that Simon tended to isolate himself. Whatever the reason Ludwig was unsure, but at this moment was not the time to ponder on this.

The hunt had started once again, and the chill bitterness of the winter air provided it with an extra layer of grittiness. Each member knew what to do, and set off in each direction in small groups to clear the streets from beasts and other ghastly night creatures that crept amongst the hollowed street once Ludwig gave his instructions, agreeing to meet back up upon the great bridge once the hunt finished. Simon was the first to head off, alone, as per usual, despite Ludwig's best attempts to convince him to at least stay nearby one of the small groups that set off. As he disappeared into the shadows, Ludwig sighed to himself. One of the members, a slightly older looking gentleman, looked up to him and spoke.

"Rumours are going around that rouge hunters are growing larger, you know" the older hunter muttered with a breezed tone, Ludwig looking down at the older hunter, but not before looking up at the city. They were far from the Cathedral ward, which was often gated up on nights of the hunt, providing greater safety compared to the rest of the city. Ludwig could only hear the harsh howling of the wind. Ludwig gave no answer before the old man spoke again. "If you want i can follow him, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid". Ludwig could sense a tone of mockery in his voice, but still he responded with an air of politeness.

"I'm sure that won't be needed '' he replied quietly, all the while checking his surroundings. The older gentleman shrugged. “suit yourself” he responded, before awaiting further orders. Ludwig motioned gently for the hunter to catch up with the last group that set off, and watched as the compatriot set off. Now Ludwig was left to himself, the howling of the wind being his only company. He sighed quietly as with gentle care he detached his blade from the large sheath that lay upon his back. Wherever Simon was, Ludwig would surely bump into him sooner or later.

There were distant, beast-like screams that echoed amongst the wind, the smell of burning fire and ashes was most poignant. Ludwig looked up towards the sky, a yellow tint was smeared across it from the fires nearby. There were no other people around, and that was for the best, yet even in his mind Ludwig knew the fate that was set in place for those who dared roam during the night of the hunt. As Ludwig slew each beast that came upon him, his mind drifted for a moment. He thought for a moment, about his church hunters. He had already lost a few to the hunt, either from the bloodlust or succumbing to mortal wounds sustained from larger, hulking beasts. And whilst his current members seemed strong enough, Ludwig knew at some point, one would succumb to the bloodlust, like any other hunter had.

Then his mind wandered regarding that tone the older hunter conveyed when mentioning Simon, that sense of mockery that seemed to follow him wherever he went, no matter what.

Ludwig's thoughts were soon distracted when he heard the sound of low growling. He crouched quietly behind the wall nearby, all the while creeping closer to where the sound echoed. As he crept closer, the sound of squelching grew alongside the quiet sounds of beastly growling. Ludwig looked over from the corner, and caught sight of it. A scourge beast. He took care to keep himself hidden from sight, all the while keeping eye contact with the beast upon him. He couldn't see what it was eating, but he didn't need to. Slowly Ludwig crept from behind the corner, taking care to where he stepped. The beast paid no attention to him, as he closed the distance between them slowly. Ludwig was now close enough to perform a visceral upon the beast, yet before he took his chance the beast whipped its head around to face Ludwig, its bright blue eyes piercing against the moonlight. Quickly Ludwig attempted to dodge away from the beast's lethal swipe as the beast lunged towards him.

The two stared off at each other, the warmth of the scourge beast's growls melting into the cold air. Ludwig kept his eyes on his target, all the while keeping a steady grip on his blade. Without further thoughts the beast once again launched towards him, Ludwig dodging with swift motion before wedging his blade into the hide of the beast. It let out a pained howl and Ludwig attempted to lodge it deeper. That was until Ludwig was hit by the beast's flailing limbs before being knocked down onto the floor. With haste he attempted to get back up on his feet, but not before the wolfish fiend threw itself at him, its deadly grasp being halted when Ludwig put the large sheath in between them both. Its large teeth snapped as it attempted to get a hold of Ludwig, all the while Ludwig desperately continued to guard himself from its bite. With all his might, Ludwig managed to push away the beast, but as he attempted to stand back up it prepared itself for one final lunge.

But yet, that launch was interrupted, when Ludwig heard a whistling sound in the air, and before Ludwig could have time to react, the beast fell pitifully onto the floor with a large thud. He looked up to see the beast laying amongst the floor, a steady puddle of blood began to form at its head from where a large, silver arrow was lodged deep into the socket of its eye. Ludwig looked behind him, where stood before him was the familiar face of Simon. Ludwig sighed a breath of relief and he stood up from the ground.

"Am i glad to see you" Ludwig spoke, whilst dusting himself off. Simon simply responded with a gentle hum before unsheathing his bow back to its bladed form. Ludwig looked up at him, noticing the fresh scar that lay underneath his bottom lip. Simon watched as Ludwig gathered his things, looking away quickly when the latter made brief eye contact. He looked down upon the beast that lay underneath him, gently prodding its head with the tip of his blade to assure it remained dead. The sound of distant howling whistled in the air as Ludwig gathered himself and looked up at Simon.

“I didn’t think you were so close by, with how quickly you left I thought you’d be on the other side of the city by now” he replied with a gentle chuckle, as Simon crossed his arms together.

“I could hear the commotion nearby,” he responded coolly, his eyes still set upon Ludwig. There was a sharpness in his eyes that Ludwig noticed. Not a hostile type, but rather one that seemed to convey a quiet curiosity. As the two began to make their way back towards the central street of Yharnam, the bridge that would have normally led to the Cathedral ward being blocked off entirely was in their sight. Simon looked up at the sky, light particles of ash and dust gently fell from the fires nearby, blending in the darkness of the night above. His thoughts were interrupted when Ludwig spoke once more.

“I see you’re not going back off alone” he said in a hushed tone, as if all the beasts could listen to every word that echoed in the wind. He looked back to Simon, checking in case he disappeared as Ludwig spoke. He was glad to see that Simon still remained close, though as aloof as ever. “You seem to do that a lot, just from a small observation,” he added. There was no hint of mockery in his town, just one of awkward politeness. It took Simon back a bit, but he simply carried on walking.

“I guess tonight is different” Simon responded softly, slowing his pace each time he overtook Ludwig. “I guess it’d be fine to have company, just this once” he added. Ludwig smiled a bit, he hadn’t heard Simon talk much, and whilst his responses were simple, it was at least enough for Ludwig.

“Another one taken by the hunt, I can only assume” he said, regarding the corpse that the beast was feeding on. Ludwig exhaled tiredly, he had just hoped whoever it was died before the beast got to them first, or at the very least died quick and swiftly. He had hoped that for many, yet always seemed to be proven wrong each time. Simon looked back at him.

The two made their way closer to the central square of Yharnam, near one of the bigger clinics, where soon a group of hunters were seen. These ones weren’t from their group. Their attire was different, possibly part of a different faction like the powder kegs, or at the very least a private group. As they got closer, the strangers caught sight of them and raised a hand to motion towards them.

“Didn’t think we’d be seeing the holy blade around these parts” One of the hunters said in a rugged tone. As the rest of the hunters grouped closer, Ludwig looked around in case of any other beasts that had not yet been dealt with. “Well at least you’re here now” One of the other hunters said. His accent was foreign from Yharnam. “The situation here has gotten… messy to say the least”. There was a mild concern in his voice that Ludwig noticed. Simon was slightly further away from the group, as usual.

“Care to explain what’s happened?” he asked. The group of hunters looked at each other, before the supposed leader of the group spoke once again. “We arrived here a while ago, maybe 2, 3ish hours. Heard news of a supposed mid-transformed beast breaking into one of the clinics. The usual. So we were sent here.” the hunter paused for a moment, there were quiet murmurs amongst the group. Ludwig turned back to Simon, who appeared to be focusing his attention to the bent and torn bared gates that led towards the clinic. Ludwig turned his head back towards the group leader as he continued. “Well we arrived, saw the state the gate was in and sent off two other members to investigate, whilst we cleared the surroundings. An hour passed and none of them have come out yet, and we have reason to believe something else is going on in there” he murmured.

Ludwig looked back towards the clinic, all the lights were out, indicating the worst. “No hunter takes that long to take care of a bloody beast, let alone two hunters” the more rugged hunter spat. A look of subtle concern flooded the group, murmurs continuing discussing the fate of the two hunters. Ludwig gripped his sword tighter.

“We’ll investigate it, for the time being, i insist you continue on your hunt, make sure no other beasts get in” Ludwig answered. The hunters looked at each other, before nodding slightly. As Ludwig turned back, he noticed that Simon was gone from the gate. The sight of Simon’s reckless actions swept a slight annoyance into Ludwig, as now he had to go after him, lest something happen to him as well.

As Ludwig crept into the clinic, he noticed the door had been broken into, and much like the outside gate, beast-like claw-marks scarred deep into the old wood of the clinic door. Whatever this beast was, it certainly was no ordinary beast. Ludwig continued on his way deeper into the clinic, the smell of fresh blood tainted the air, a bad sign to say the least. There was no sign of Simon, indicating he must at the very least be upon the upper floors. Wherever he was, Ludwig just prayed he hadn’t found the beast yet. The clinic was in a mess, both from the start of the hunt, when the clinic doctors must have hurriedly evacuated each patient into a safer location, and now. Ludwig felt a wet squelch underneath him as he noticed a small pool of blood that seemed to trail towards the stairs. Ludwig followed the trail, all the while keeping his quietest, keeping his ear out for any beastly sounds. As he followed the trail, he noticed the stench of fresh blood grow stronger, until Ludwig saw something in the distance. It was someone laying amongst the floor.

Ludwig winced as he came closer, the smell of blood became almost unbearable. This hunter was surely dead, As Ludwig leant down to inspect his wounds further. The hunter’s mangled body was marked with three large and ghastly claw-marks, each mark written freshly deep into his chest and stomach. Ludwig inspected the corpse further, until suddenly he heard something nearby. Quickly, Ludwig grabbed his sword, preparing himself for whatever was coming his way. His motion was stopped though, when he heard someone’s voice.

“Ludwig?”

It was Simon. Ludwig felt a flush of relief flood over him as the younger man’s figure became clearer. It wasn't until Ludwig looked closer and noticed another figure slumped against Simon. It must’ve been the second hunter, and whilst he remained alive, his wounds were severe. Ludwig got up to help the two, a pained groan came from the second hunter, his blood staining Simon’s attire quite heavily. He was just thankful that the man’s guts were still intact, unlike the latter.

“You shouldn’t have left without me” Ludwig reprimanded, as he lent another hand to help the battered hunter. Simon sighed as the three made their way to some place safer away from the open corridors. “Well, I'm still alive in case you were wondering” the younger man quipped back. Ludwig rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but at least feel relieved he wasn’t in a similar state as the wounded hunter they hauled. The two managed to reach a smaller room that was hidden away from the winding hallways, carefully laying the injured hunter onto one of the empty clinic beds. Simon jabbed a few blood vials into the man’s chest.

“That should be enough to stop the bleeding, but he’ll need more for the rest,” Simon said in a hushed tone. Ludwig leaned into a nearby chair, this night was more exhausting than usual. The injured hunter’s breathing became less heavy than before, thanks to the few blood vials injected into him. The three remained quiet, as Simon attempted to mend the hunter’s wounds.

“Any sign of that beast?” Ludwig asked, finally breaking the silence between the two. Simon looked up at him, the sharpness of his eyes piercing into Ludwig. The man responded with a simple shake of the head, before going back to his business.

“This isn’t a regular scourge beast we’re dealing with” The younger man stated, his eyes were still fixated on the wounds of the hunter. Ludwig watched him work, a sense of admiration came over him slightly.

“Whatever the case is, there’s still a beast roaming around that needs dealing with” Ludwig replied.

“Really? I had no idea” Simon replied in a sarcastic tone. Ludwig shifted slightly, his eyes were still set upon Simon. He tried to change the subject slightly.

“I didn’t know you knew how to deal with these types of wounds” Ludwig responded, as he continued to watch Simon. Simon looked back up at him, all the while finishing off his inspection of the hunter that laid amongst him.

“You need to, in these kinds of nights” he stated simply. Ludwig simply nodded as he shifted in his seat. Simon looked back at the hunter, keeping an extra eye on his now stable wounds. Ludwig stared at him, there was something in his eyes, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. From a glance, it looked like a mixture of pity and something else. He stared at the hunter that lay amongst the clinic bed, his breathing was quiet.

“He should be safe here for now. Come on, we should get back to the task at hand” Ludwig announced. Simon didn’t respond, but nodded slightly as he took his blade into his hand and followed the taller hunter. The two hunters crept quietly up the clinic hallways, where more blood was found, indicating the first hunter was just one of many. They soon reached the second flight of stairs, slowly making their way up, Simon having a much quicker, yet careful pace compared to Ludwig. Whilst the heaviness of their footsteps produced quiet creeks from the floorboards, Simon suddenly stopped in his tracks, before raising up a hand in the air.

“Do you hear that?” he whispered. Ludwig stood silently, listening closely. Somewhere, upstairs, there was the sound of rapid banging and scratching amongst one of the many doors that led to the patient's rooms. Ludwig and Simon looked at each other, before carefully and quietly, the two made their way towards the end of the stairway. Simon, who was in the front, looked from around the corner before halting. Ludwig looked up at him curiously. Simon motioned his hand in a pointing direction to where he was facing.

“Looks like we found our target”

Ludwig crept gently towards Simon, looking out from the corner where Simon pointed. Further away near the end of the corridor, there was a man. Yet, not so much a man as that of a hulking wolfish beast. It was lean and hunched in figure, with protruding blood-stained claws that stuck out from both hands. From the two hunter’s point of view, it appeared to be clawing one of the patient’s doors, producing low growls of frustration as with each swipe it attempted to break down the door.

Ludwig went to grab his sword, but not before Simon laid a hand on him to stop him. With quick care, Simon transformed the blade in his hands to that of a bow, as he edged closer away from the corner, tension filled the room. The beast paid no attention as Simon crept closer and closer, slowly reaching for an arrow. As the beast continued clawing at the door with bloodthirsty determination, Simon slowly prepared to charge his weapon. Ludwig could feel the pace in his heart grow faster, gripping the end of his sword tightly in case anything went wrong.

Tension would soon be broken, as when the beast slowly turned its head, the swift sound of whistling filled the air as one of the large, silver arrows flew from Simon’s grasp and lodged itself deep, deep into the beast’s neck, the disgusting sound of blood gargling breaking the silence. As the beast fell to the floor, bloodied claws slashing the air, its pained growls were silenced when Simon shot one more arrow into the beast’s chest. With the beast down, Ludwig ran up to Simon, looking down at the bleeding beast. Now up close, the beast was much larger than from a distance, its face was shrouded in bleeding fur and teeth, its claws were chipped and stained with hunter’s and patient’s blood.

Ludwig’s sightings were distracted, when the beaten and torn door opened sheepishly, revealing two deeply frightened older women, one’s head was shrouded in bandages, the other's arm was rapped in a similar fashion. Ludwig smiled gently as the women crept away from the door, fear shrouded their eyes when their eyes were set upon the dead beast.

“It’s alright, you two are safe now” The church hunter responded, a slight sense of relief shrouded the two women, yet their fear still remained when nearby the corpse that lay upon them. Exchanges were made between the three of them as they made their way back to the first floor of the clinic, Simon heading back to the room where the injured hunter still remained, thankfully still alive. One of the women explained their situation, having locked themselves in the room for safety after a clinic doctor attempted to distract the beast. The women with her head shrouded in a bandaged garb spoke no words, but rather still shivered slightly from fear. Ludwig had empathy for them, as they reached the bottom floor. As he looked around, he saw Simon follow down the stairs, the hunter leaning against him, looking slightly better compared to when he was first found. Ludwig tried to look behind the two, seeing if anyone else had been found. No one. Ludwig shook head slightly, as Simon and the recovering hunter reached closer to them. The two women huddled closer together, the bandaged women still trembled slightly.

“There was no one else I could find, my only hope is that some of them managed to get out using one the back doors” Simon uttered softly. Ludwig sighed, looking towards the broken entrance of the clinic.

“Let’s only hope so,” Ludwig responded. “Stay here, I'll go meet back up with those hunters, make sure nothing else tries to break in” he added. Simon nodded, the hunter still leaning against him. Ludwig made his way out of the clinic, looking for the group. He was relieved at least to see them in sight, with no one missing. The leader of the group looked back at him, curiosity filled his eyes.

“Took care of your beast situation,” Ludwig explained as he closed the distance between them. The hunter closed his eyes and sighed in relief, before motioning some of his members to enter the clinic.

“Ah that’s good. That’s a relief” the man responded. “We looked around, took care of any beasts, I have a feeling the hunt should be ending soon enough, hopefully” As he pointed a figure to the sky. Ludwig nodded, as the hunter tilted his head slightly. Then he asked.

“What’s…what’s the situation regarding my two members?”. Ludwig winced slightly, the hunter raised his eyebrows subtly.

“I found one of them, deceased unfortunately,” he spoke. The other hunter froze slightly, breathing in slightly.

“But, thankfully, we found the second one, and he's stable, though I'd insist you keep an eye on him,” Ludwig said. The hunter sighed and nodded, there was a slight shakiness that Ludwig could hear in his exhale. His heart twisted slightly from guilt.

“I’m sorry” he murmured quietly. The hunter simply closed his eyes and rolled his head gently.

“Don’t be. The beasts that roam the night of the hunt are not merciful. It’s an unfortunate fate that happens, but we have no control over, as much as we try to think we do,” the hunter uttered, opening his eyes once more to look at Ludwig. “I’m just glad we didn’t lose both”.

Ludwig didn’t know how to respond, and simply nodded out of politeness. Ludwig turned back to the entrance of the clinic, the injured hunter was leaning against two of his compatriots, the looks of both concern and relief was painted against their faces as they carried their friend out from the darkness of the clinic. Later on, Simon would follow, alongside the two patients, who remained close together. As casual chats waved around the group, Ludwig focused his attention on Simon, who was leaning against the bars that lead to a deep drop to old Yharnam. Ludwig excused himself from the group, ordering that the hunters remain close to the clinic as well as the patients until sunrise, as he headed towards Simon.

“Looks like the nights coming to an end” the younger man simply murmured. Ludwig rested a hand upon the railing, looking up at the sky, the dark blue completion of the night slowly turning into an orange hue. He looked into Simon’s eyes. They were a light, brownish hazel colour, yet when the light hit his face you could’ve sworn they were a light green. Simon looked away, a finger tapping an off-beat rhythm on the metal bars. Ludwig leaned forwards against the railing, as he set his eyes upon the great bridge. Hopefully by the time they got there the gates leading to the Cathedral ward would be open once again.

“We should get going, the rest of the group should be on their way by now” he simply stated, all the while turning his focus back on Simon, the latter doing the same. He spoke no words, but a small grin was starting to form on his face.

“Sure, whatever you say” he responded coolly, leaning back away from the railing. “Just don’t get jumped by another scourge beast before we get there first '' he smiled slyly, Ludwig rolled his eyes but chuckled quietly, there was a slight wheeziness to it.

“I see you’ve still got a sense of humour” he exclaimed. He paused for a moment, before speaking again, as the two hunters set off on their way once more.

“That’s good. That’s good to hear”

Chapter Text

There was a bitter rainfall that seemed to plague Yharnam two days after the most recent hunt, and whilst rain was most common in Yharnam from time to time, a slight worry regarding the sewers flooding did not go unnoticed amongst most hunters and those higher in the church. It was not outside knowledge that strange beastly creatures roamed and crawled amongst Yharnma’s aqueducts, ones that most resembled the shells of what they once were. People. Abandoned by those above. Whilst this fact was mostly known, most did not dwell on this thought too much, aside from the few ‘rebellious’ hunters, so to speak.

Gehrman sat quietly, alone, as the harsh sound of rain pattered against the paned windows that surrounded him. He could hear Laurence talking to someone in his office, Caryll, most likely, and whilst Gehrman couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, he had some ideas; most likely regarding the hunt, or at the very least other manners that needed dealing with back in Byrgenwerth. Gehrman rubbed his knee, the joints in his legs aching slightly from the previous hunt. Before long, the sounds of voices inside Laurence’s office became hushed, and the rusty hinges of the door opened, revealing a slightly exhausted Caryll. She spoke no words to Gehrman, but simply nodded before heading off her way, her eye twitching slightly. Gehrman nodded back awkwardly, before he heard a gentle voice usher him inside.

Gehrman stood up, groaning slightly, as he entered, exiting the cold hallways with a quiet shut of the door into Laurence’s office. It was a small office, but it had a slight comfort in its air, and was certainly much warmer juxtaposed to the hallways where he sat. Gehrman looked around a bit, before looking back at Laurence. He was sitting patiently, a small pair of reading glasses hung from his neck.

“My apologies for the wait, i was going to call you in earlier, but Caryll had important matters she needed to discuss” The vicar said politely, a gentle smile formed on his face, before putting both hands on the desk. Gehrman remained standing, before the vicar continued.

“I believe you know what this discussion I brought you here is about, no?” he asked.

“Yes, the clinic beast situation, i’m aware” Gehrman responded quietly, a hand still rubbing his knee slightly, Laurence looked down before looking directly at Gehrman, the small but warm smile still on his face. The vicar with a hand ushered for the taller hunter to sit down.

“I’m glad you’re aware. It's a simple situation, but no doubt one that needs discussing” Laurence responded calmly, fiddling slightly as he cleaned the pair of reading glasses against his sleeve. “I’m sure you understand.” Gehrman simply continued.

“Ludwig ordered a few of his church hunter’s to take it back for research, I'm sure you know that detail already. Turns out the beast is neither scourge beast or someone suffering mid-transformation” The taller hunter added, keeping his eye on the vicar. “One of our hunters identified it as one of the beasts we encountered in the chalices on our many explorations, from what I recall at least”. The vicar continued to listen, making no sound.

“But you want to know what makes this stranger?” the taller hunter added. “Those things were only found back in the labyrinths. This is the only time we’ve seen one of these on the surface.” Gehrman leaned back in his seat slightly, rubbing his eyes. The vicar remained quiet, scribbling something down.

“It’s a strange case for certain. I discussed this with Ludwig further. We’re not exactly sure how it got out here for say, but a few of our tomb prospectors have reason to believe it somehow managed to follow them out from their most recent expedition.” Gehrman murmured. “That’s the closest possibility we’ve come up with, for the time being,” he added. Gehrman sighed, his knee was still aching, but he didn’t want to concern the vicar.

“That could be the closest possibility” Laurence responded, leaning out slightly from where he was sitting. Gehrman looked back at him, as Laurence finished whatever he was writing down. “I think for the time being we should keep an eye on the chalices, make sure the same case doesn’t repeat itself, if that theory is true”.

Gehrman nodded in response, before the vicar stood up from his desk. “I think that will be all for now,” he said coolly. “For the time being, we’ll do further research on this. As for you, I'd recommend keeping an extra eye next time the hunt begins” he voiced calmly, his eyes still set on Gehrman. Gehrman nodded once more before standing up from his seat, making a quiet sharp noise of pain as he stood up. Laurence looked at him with modest concern.

“You’ve been rubbing your knee an awful lot recently, did you hurt yourself?” Laurence asked. Gehrman sighed, fidgeting with the torn sleeve of his coat. “I’m fine, it's just the weather. probably. I should be fine by the end of the week, '' Gehrman replied coyly. Laurence said nothing, but the concern in eyes was slowly dissipating.

“Well whatever you say. But please, if it gets worse, go visit one of the clinics to get it taken care of” he noted. Gehrman made a slight hum noise as a response, before making his way out of the vicar’s office. “I can't afford to lose one of our most skilled hunters,” Laurence hummed subtly, Gehrman stopping slightly, murmuring quietly.

“Whatever you say,” he answered. He paused for a moment, before turning back to Laurence. “If you don't mind me asking, what happened to those two patients? The ones that survived? I only know about the status of the hunter”

Laurence remained silent, simply listening as the rain outside grew heavier and heavier. He turned back to Gehrman. “They were moved to another clinic to continue their treatment” he responded, smiling politely as he watched Gerhman exit his office. His eyes turned sharper than usual. After entering back once more into the cold and empty hallways, Gehrman leaned against the wall behind him, the cold stone making his skin jump slightly. He looked up at the windows, the rain still heavily hitting against the glass, before looking down the hall, a dark shadow engulfing the end of the corridor. Gehrman stood for a moment, before silently leaving his position against the wall, cursing slightly under his breath as his knee locked for a moment, edging closer as he joined the darkness of the end of the hallways as he left.

He was greeted by the cold and wet air of the rain against his face, quickly pulling up his coat for warmth. He looked around, the sky was a dull greyish blue, the horizon being doused in dark grey as the rain grew stronger and stronger. He looked around, noticing Ludwig, who seemed to be discussing something with his church members. Whatever it was, Gehrman didn’t have the energy to find out what it was, and simply marched on his way, the sounds of echoing rain following alongside him.

Chapter Text

A week had passed since the last hunt, and rumours of the clinic beast were becoming more rampant, though most hunters took care to where they spoke, lest they disturb the higher ups of the church. Alongside most rumours, the news of Simon’s sudden partnering up with Ludwig during the situation did not go unnoticed either, though Simon like most times ignored it. It was the late afternoon, and whilst the rain was still rampant, it was thankfully less strong than the week before. Simon was leaning against the church wall quietly, fiddling  with one of his arrows, twirling it around each finger. The church assigned Ludwig alongside a few other church hunters to investigate around Yharnam, in case any beasts from the labyrinths had escaped to the surface, including Simon. As he twirled the long silver arrow around his fingers, he stopped suddenly when he heard footsteps approaching him, his eyes sharpening. Yet they softened when he looked up to see a familiar face.

“Still skulking about i see” Gratia spoke, a chunk of iron gripped by her side. Simon smiled slyly, straightening up his posture whilst putting away his arrow.

“Not much to do when you’re waiting i suppose” Simon replied quietly, stretching his arms above his head. Gratia responded with a simple hum, the chunk of iron still gripped by her left hand. Similarly to Simon, Gratia did not respond well to guns unlike most hunters, but rather hulked around a heavy piece of iron which she swiftly used to dash the brains of any beast she’d come across. She was a formidable force, to say the least, yet despite this she had a friendly air to her, often talking for hours on end when you let her. For some it could come off as a mixed blessing, but Simon didn’t seem to mind this. Her outgoingness contrasted with his quietness quite well.

The two slowly exited from the cathedral’s courtyard, Simon going his usual quicker pace compared to Gratia’s, who thankfully was not too far behind. The sky was starting to darken slightly as the two walked, the sound of the wind whistling against each building. Simon looked around at his surroundings, looking back behind occasionally to see Gratia walking behind him, her red hair standing out heavily with her dark attire. 

“Ludwig told us to check out the aqueducts, in case somethin’s brewin down there” the hulking woman said, scratching her head slightly as she walked. Simon frowned. He was aware of the rumours of mutilated beasts and other ghastly things that roamed Yharnam’s sewers, and with the recent rainfall, trouble was bound to be set for the two, especially if that beast was swifter than the both of them combined.

“Why on earth the aqueducts of all things?” Simon asked, slowing down his pace when he noticed Gratia falling behind slightly. "Why not just investigate something like the clinic?". Gratia simply shrugged as she caught up with Simon, shrouding him in her shadow. Simon sighed sarcastically forlornly, as both hunters continued on their way, tugging his hood above his head as the slow starting drizzle began to form into rain.

"It’s better to look around in the places where you least expect, 'suppose" Gratia murmured, her accent becoming slightly thicker. Both hunter's eventually reached their destination, keeping their distance due to the large drop. Gratia motioned her hands for Simon to go first, as the latter elegantly made his way down, watching his step as made the drop. Gratia soon joined him, a squelch noise emitting from beneath her, a foul scent was in the air. Simon shuddered ever so slightly, as Gratia made the first few steps into the aqueducts, her figure getting darker as she entered. Simon followed after her, wincing as the water beneath both of them got deeper and sludgier. Gratia paid no attention to this, and continued on her way, the sound of liquid pattering and echoing in the tunnels. As the two made their way, a vile smell filled the air, Simon clasping his mouth and nose with one hand.

"Fucking hell" he muffled in disgust. Simon endured many things as a hunter, yet the smell that filled the air could've made anyone puke. Gratia seemed to ignore this, simply continuing her way, before looking back at simon. "I can see why nobody goes down here much, if ever" he continued, trying his best to catch up to Gratia now as the sludge he walked amongst grew to his waist.

"Ah well, you sorta get used to it a bit" Gratia hummed, looking around her surroundings as Simon continued to trudge through. "I've bin workin at this for 6 years, I guess you sorta get used to it, at sum point" Gratia added. Simon scoffed slightly, putting more effort as he trod through thicker sludge. Gratia chuckled.

"You want me to carry ya?" She laughed, as Simon continued to trod his way through. 

"No thank you, but i appreciate the offer though" he responded back, halting when he nearly tripped over. Gratia snorted slightly in response. "Well, whatever you say, just don't trip" she replied, producing a gap-toothed smile. Simon simply nodded, as the two continued to trod through the aqueducts. The smell seemed to lessen in strength now, either that or Simon became immune to it the further they walked through the cold and unwinding tunnels. Gratia startled to whistle an off-note tune, attempting to lure out any beasts, though quickly stopping when the faint sounds of scampering was heard nearby, gripping her hunk of iron tighter.

"Let’s hope we don't bump into any pigs" Gratia grunted, looking left and right with each open area they passed. “Nasty buggers”. Simon remained quiet. 

"You know i don't think we'll be even finding anything here, other than the few discarded corpses" Simon whispered back, shivering slightly when a cold breeze blew by. "How long have we been walking?"

"Fifteen minutes, I think," She responded. "Or no, maybe twenty minutes" she added. Simon groaned quietly, still shivering a bit as the cold breeze continued. Suddenly, Gratia stopped in her tracks, her ears pricking up, listening to her surroundings, Simon quickly doing the same. Seconds passed, as a sudden rattling sound grew louder and louder, the two hunters bracing themselves for the worst. As the sound grew louder, it came to halt when a multitude of large beastly rats jumped out from the nearest piped tunnels, lunging at the two hunters. Gratia with ease swung her hunk of iron as each rat that lept at her screeched in pain as they were met with a harsh punch. Simon kept his sword in blade form, slicing each rat with elegance. The two hunters paused for breath, as the last few rats escaped and scattered away, squeaking in fear as they disappeared into the dark distance. Gratia's fists were soaked in blood, though she paid no heed to this feature, instead turning to Simon, checking if the younger man was alright. Simon lifted a thumbs up, before straightening himself up.

The two remained still, Simon looking around keenly, his eyes were widened and sharp, as he attempted to listen in on anything else that could ambush them. Gratia leaned against one of the stone walls behind her, breathing in and out slowly.

" I hate rats " she breathed out, tightening both her fists, causing her gloves to crease.

Simon kept his eye out, before responding. "Well don't worry, I hate them too" he replied coolly, his eyes still sharp, almost glowing. Gratia huffed back as a response, keeping her grip tighter and tighter as she waited for Simon. A few moments passed, before Simon finally softened his gaze, exhaling quietly.

"I don't hear anything else, i think we should be good to continue on" he said in a hushed town, keeping his grip on his blade. Gratia nodded as she moved away from the wall she leant against, this time offering Simon to lead the way. Simon obliged, the surface they walked over thankfully becoming more shallow and less sludgy. Simon was already starting to feel exhausted, both from the effort of trudging in thick sludge, as well as the genuine boredom that Simon was facing, the rat ambush seemingly being the only sign of excitement. Gratia could sense his boredom.

“Aye don’t worry, i think we should be done soon” Gratia said, hunching her arms together, as if her paranoia of more rats leaping out was taking control. Simon sighed as he continued, his pace being slower than before.

“Let’s just hope it does, or at the very least we find something” he whispered softly, Gratia following behind him. They continued their search, occasionally coming across the few crawling corpses along their way. It felt like hours as they progressed through damp tunnels, checking each creeping corner for anything unusual. It must’ve been the early evening outside by now, though Simon and Gratia had little time to ponder over this. Gratia shifted a bit, slightly uncomfortable with Simon’s silence.

“I heard you were with Ludwig,” Gratia said in a slightly awkward tone, breaking the silence. Simon halted a bit, before continuing his pace.

“Yes, I was. What about it”

“Oh nothin. Just curious. You don’t tend to talk to any of the other church ‘unters” she responded, keep her voice down as they walked. “I think it’s a good change of pace”. Simon said nothing, the tips of his ears were glowing red.

“Well, I guess it was just a special occasion,” he responded coolly. Gratia frowned slightly.

“You’re doin that thing again” she said.

“What thing?”

“That thing! You’re going all quiet” she answered. Simon tilted his head a bit, before scoffing slightly.

“I guess it’s just something I don't tend to ponder on that much,” he replied quietly.

 This motion confused Gratia slightly, but she simply nodded. She didn’t want to bother him on this too much. Not whilst they were still working. As the two hunters marched onward, a sudden slamming sound could be heard nearby, Simon halting immediately in his steps. Simon and Gratia looked at each other, before slowly making their way towards the sound, their weapons gripped tightly in their hands. As the sound got louder, the two looked back at each other, before slowly and carefully creeping out from behind the corner in front of them.

It was a hunter. He was smashing something, someone, from what Simon and Gratia could hear. Gratia and Simon looked at each other, unsure whether or not to approach the hunter. Yet their thoughts would be disturbed when the hunter looked back at them. There was a slight strangeness in his eyes, but Simon couldn’t put his finger to what it was. On one hand, the hunter appeared normal, though slightly rugged. Yet whatever it was, there was something that deeply unsettled him about this hunter. Gratia straightened herself, clearing her throat.

“You there, you’re a ‘unter right? You don’t look like a church ‘unter” she exclaimed, the three hunters keeping their distance. The hunter looked up, wobbling slightly. Something wasn’t right, and Simon knew that. The hunter finally spoke.

“I’m…i’m just a… just a hunter, i suppose” he croaked. Simon could feel a small shock go up his spine, as he watched the hunter slowly walk towards them.

“Who…w-who are ye?” he mumbled, his fingers tapping against his beast cutter.

 Gratia tightened her fists, looking at Simon before looking back forward to the other hunter. 

“We’re church ‘unters…well sort’ ov” she replied, watching as the hunter slowly approached. “What about you? You must be from a different faction”. The hunter didn’t reply, still walking and approaching them.

Simon felt a tension in the air as the hunter crept closer towards them. He was suddenly mumbling something, but the two couldn’t hear what he was saying.

“B…bl…bl…blo…”

Gratia made a look of modest concern as the hunter wobbled slightly. Simon clenched his fists tightly, looking the hunter directly into his eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“Blu…bl…blood” he mumbled louder. Gratia stood back slightly, clenching the slab of iron at her side. Simon kept his sharp eyes on the hunter. He watched as he wobbled, his mumbles suddenly getting louder. Simon’s eyes widened, when the realisation hit him.

“Blood..”

“What?” Gratia asked, making a slow step towards him. 

No words could describe the lept Simon made, as with all his strength he pulled the hood of Gratia’s cape, pulling her away as the hunter suddenly lunged towards her, instead diving into Simon, his bowblade being knocked away from him. Gratia fell to the ground, dazed slightly as the two hunters fought. The stranger hunter was growling now, eyes wide and wild as he swung his weapon wildly. Simon dodged each hit swiftly, but not before the hunter with all his frenzied strength struck Simon’s face, knocking him to the ground. Simon didn’t have enough time to stand back up before the hunter threw himself at him, his eyes growing brighter and wilder, his pupils slowly growing more dilated and collapsed. Simon with all his strength grasped onto the man’s arms as he attempted to swing his weapon down on him, struggling as the hunter’s frenzy grew. It looked like an unfair fight, as the hunter had Simon pinned down with nowhere to run. Still, Simon used his might to attempt to push away the hunter, his weapon getting closer and closer to his face.

Things were looking grim, as the frenzied hunter’s weapon grew closer towards Simon face, but not before Gratia, with all her might, grabbed the chunk of iron next to her and slammed the hunters head from the side, a horrible crack could be heard as the hunter fell to the floor. Simon gasped for air, sitting up. Gratia was breathing quite heavily, standing over the twitching hunter, before killing him with one final blow. Simon’s whole body was trembling, his nose bleeding heavily, though thankfully it wasn’t broken. After checking if the hunter was truly dead, Gratia walked towards him, checking his wounds. Simon swatted her hand away.

“I’m fine” he said, before standing up slowly, his legs still shaking slightly underneath him as he went to pick up his bowblade. He wiped his bloodied nose with his sleeve, painting it slightly with blood. Gratia simply sighed as she watched him, before turning her attention back to the deceased hunter. She prodded his head slightly with the tip of her boot.

“Well out of all things i was expectin, wasn’t expectin to see a blood-drunk ‘unter” she spoke. Simon said nothing, his nose was still bleeding quite heavily no matter how many times he wiped it with his sleeve.

“Well, at least we have somethin to report back to Ludwig,” Gratia added. “By the way; how’d you know there was somethin wrong with that ‘unter?” she asked as turned back to Simon. “He seemed normal at first, well, besides from the way he was mumblin”.

“I’m not that sure to be honest” He answered. He paused for a moment, before he spoke again. “I guess there was just something about his mannerisms that felt wrong”. Gratia nodded as the two hunters began to make their way back from the aqueducts, Simon this time tagging slightly behind from where Gratia walked. Gratia and Simon reached the surface, the sky was now dark as the rain continued to fall gently from the sky above. Gratia looked back at Simon, waiting for him to catch up before the two made their way back to the Cathedral.

Ludwig stood outside the Cathedral courtyard, his white garb standing out amongst the dark as the rain fell gently. He was waiting patiently for Gratia and Simon to return from their expedition in the aqueducts, even though most of his church hunter’s had left. He too was about to leave as the sky got darker, until he vaguely spotted the two coming towards him. As the two walked up to him, he stood upright when he saw the state the two were in, especially Simon. Simon avoided his gaze.

“What happened?” Ludwig asked in a slightly urgent tone. Gratia fidgeted a bit, Simon still avoiding Ludwig’s gaze.

“Bumped into unwanted company, to say the least” Gratia responded. “Found sum bloke in the sewers, turns out he was blood-drunk, or startin to transform perhaps”

Ludwig sighed, rubbing his eyes slightly. “Another one…” he mumbled. Gratia didn’t respond, still shifting slightly whilst looking back at Simon.

“The thing was, he looked normal. His eyes didn’t look collapsed, the only odd thing about him was the mumblin he was doing” She replied. “We would’ve been done for, if Simon here hadn’t noticed his symptoms first”. Ludwig looked at Simon after Gratia’s words, before looking back at her.

“Was this hunter one of ours?” he asked. Gratia shook her head.

“No, it looked like he was from sum different faction,” she answered. "Wasn't wearin the usual church garb, might've been from sum outsider group. He was carrying a beast cutter "

Simon sighed quietly. Ludwig looked up at the sky, it was slowly becoming pitch black as the night grew closer. Ludwig paused for a moment, before looking back to the two hunters. The two were not in the best conditions, and Ludwig worried about time. He sighed quietly once more, before speaking.

“I think it’d be better to discuss this in the morning, in the meantime, you two should go get cleaned up. We’ll discuss the rest of this tomorrow” he spoke softly. The two hunters simply nodded.

"I should probably discuss this with Laurence as well." he paused for a moment. "Did he have any insignia that indicated which group he was from?"

Gratia shook her head. "not from what i checked, my only guess is he either lost it or he became a rouge 'unter of sum sorts" she replied. Ludwig nodded. There was an odd silence between the three, before Ludwig gently waved a hand to dismiss the two hunters to leave for the night, the two hunters waving back before leaving. A s the two walked, Gratia looked down to Simon. He hadn't spoken since they left the aqueduct. The rain had stopped a while ago, and deep puddles were left upon the quiet streets as they walked. As the moments passed, Gratia spoke.

"You doin okay?" she asked, the sound of mild concern was in her voice. There was a slight pause between the two, before Simon finally broke the silence.

"i'm fine, just...tired i guess" he answered in a hushed voice. Gratia furrowed her eyebrows, before patting him on the back gently. The residue of blood was still around his face, not to mention the muck that covered both of them from their venture in the aqueducts.

"It's getting late, you should go get sum rest" she responded, in a slight awkward tone, before continuing. "And, maybe get washed up first". Simon laughed quietly, Gratia smiling a bit, before bidding her farewell for the night and walking off, leaving Simon to himself. Simon stood quietly, before looking up at the sky. It was properly dark, the only thing contrasting amongst the pitch black sky were the small lights of stars starting to form. There was a sense of peace that Simon felt as he looked above, ignoring the cold wind that was enveloping him from standing still. He stood there for a short while, before coming back to his senses, shaking his head slightly as he made his way out from amongst the dark streets of Yharnam.

Chapter Text

To describe Brador as a strange individual would be an understatement, to many. For some, they would even go as far to describe him as bizarre as the individuals you would come across in Byrgenwerth, though appearing much more relaxed and tranquil in nature compared to the manic hyperness that was present in Byrgenwerth. He was a tall man, lean, but far from thin, with a small scar that marked the bottom corner of his lip that he had a tendency to pick at. A dark shadow of tiredness seemed to shroud his dull eyes and face, that when looked directly would be enough to make a small child cry from fear. His teeth were lightly tinted yellow, most notable when he would produce a wolfish grin, showing off his teeth. His skin was slightly pale in complexion, though not as pale compared to some of the other citizens that roamed Yharnam. He rarely stayed for conversations, often slinking into the shadows once the mess of the hunt had been cleared in the waking morning.

Brador was a notable figure, to put it very simply, and this was made most prominent from his occupation as the church’s assassin, hunting down those who dared oppose the healing church using his ghastly weapon the church named the ‘Bloodletter’, a weapon that Brador was seen to occasionally stab himself with. That was how he was, and that was how it was expected for the most part. With these characteristics, Simon knew to keep a distance, yet quiet curiosity always led him nearby.

As Simon made his way through the torn yet familiar city streets that led to the edge of Old Yharnam, he thought about the previous hunt, his exploration of that darkened clinic with the holy blade, Ludwig. He tried not to ponder too much on it whilst he walked. He was covered in muck and blood from a previous encounter involving a mad and blood-drunk hunter, and Simon simply wanted to wash up and rest for however long the night would let him. Whilst he dwelt on it, he suddenly found himself stopped in his tracks, when he saw a particular leaned figure on one of the upper floor balconies. Brador. Simon stopped for a moment, as he watched the man attempt to light a small and measly cigarette, cursing quietly under his breath when each light failed to do its purpose. It wasn’t until Simon edged slightly closer that the other taller man looked up and saw him, his dull and dark eyes watching him slowly. A fresh, bluish bruise lay underneath his right eye, with a freshly split knuckle that rested at his side, either from an encounter of a beast or a hunter that went mad. The two said nothing, and simply stared at each other, like two mangled dogs in a standoff. It wasn’t until after Brador finally managed to light the cigarette that lay in his mouth, whilst waving the burning match till it's bright light faded, that he spoke.

“You look like shit” he muttered, his face being partly shrouded in smoke. This motion took Simon aback slightly, as he watched the taller man lean over the barred balcony, smoke blending and disappearing into the air. He stood there for a moment, trying to think of a witty response, but didn’t.

“Well, same goes to you but you don’t see me pointing that out” Simon replied, his eyes set on Brador’s bruised eye. Brador scoffed slightly, looking out towards the distance. The two stayed still, Simon’s eyes were as sharp as ever as he watched Brador’s every move, as if at any moment he’d lunge towards him like a beast. Brador paid no heed to this, and simply spoke once more.

“You live around here?” he asked, a slight awkwardness could be heard in his voice. Simon didn't answer, he was smart enough not to. Brador raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. Still no response. He chuckled a bit, coughing ever so mildly in the process, looking out into the distance.

“Guess you’re not one for conversation” he said smoothly. His focus was not on Simon, but instead on the distant lights in the distance amongst the city, yet Simon couldn’t rub off the sense that all his focus was on him. He crossed his arms as he watched, waiting patiently for Brador to finish whatever he was doing.

“I have my reasons,” Simon answered. Brador nodded slowly, his sight still focused on the distance as the small light near his face got dimmer and dimmer. They stood, for a moment, simply watching each other's motions. Brador spoke once more.

“What happened to make you look like that?” he asked, his voice sounding slightly hoarse. Simon stood still for a moment, before answering.

“Bad situation in the sewers, to say the least” he responded awkwardly, Brador looked at him, quirking an eyebrow as a response.

“May I ask why?” Brador asked once more, tilting his head to the side as he watched the other hunter shift slightly.

“Let’s just say there was an unwanted presence there,” he mumbled. 

There was a slight pause, before Brador barked a loud and wheezed laugh, the sound of phlegm rattling in his throat making Simon wince. He coughed for a moment as Simon watched him, before dropping his cigarette to the ground and snubbing it out with the heel of his shoe.

“You sure are one interesting person, no wonder people talk about you so much” he chuckled, his voice sounding slightly raspy before he cleared his throat. Simon was taken aback one more from this motion, his eyes moving to look around his surroundings before looking back towards Brador. He was looking back at him again, this time his eyes seemed less dull than before they met. It felt strange to Simon, to say the least. Brador stretched his arms, a slight cracking sound being produced as he stretched. Simon took a modest step forwards, flinching a bit when Brador slowly approached him, but not before being patted on the shoulder quite harshly by the latter in a somewhat friendly manner. As Brador walked away, leaving Simon alone once more, the night became the only company for Simon. He sighed quietly, a hint of exhaustion could be heard.

He looked forwards towards the distance where Brador was looking, the lights from the city slowly dissipating. Simon felt a mild sense of peace as he looked forwards, the feeling coming to a sudden stop when Simon felt a shiver from the wind. He shook his head a bit, before focusing his attention back to his journey home, the only sound being the quiet whistling of the night air.

Simon was greeted with that familiar warmth as he closed the door with a gentle shut, the cold air of the winter night being blocked away to the other side. He leaned back, releasing a small exhale as he looked up at the ceiling. It was dark, but not dark enough to render him completely blind as he slowly made his way through. He got himself washed up, wincing after witnessing the new fresh bruises that were laid upon his waist, producing a sharp note of pain every time he pressed them sheepishly. It wasn't long until Simon fell into bed, the sound of crooked groaning being produced. He lay there for a while, staring at his surroundings as he shifted from side to side, before his vision darkened slowly as the hunter fell into a quiet sleep.

And yet, once he opened his eyes he was met with the familiar streets of central Yharnam once more, a thick fog surrounding him as he squinted, attempting to see what was around him. It was quiet. Too quiet. Simon could feel his heart start to beat rapidly as he attempted to breath in and out, yet it seemed to make things worse by the minute. His eyes darted around, the only sound filling the air was the hushed sound of rasping wind. He was trembling slightly as he walked, the fog shifting around him as he moved. He stopped in his tracks when he heard something in the distance. It sounded like low, guttural growls, like that of the familiar scourge beast. Yet, as Simon's ears pricked up, it sounded deeper, more rattly than that of a scourge beast. He creeped with care as he went towards the sound, his finger's twitching with anxiety as he made his way through the thick fog. The sound got louder and louder as he crept closer, until he could finally see it. It was someone. something. 

From a distant glance, it looked like a large huntsman, as blood-stained scruffy hair seemed to stick from its back. Yet as Simon moved closer, this idea changed. It was more muscular, and its head seemed to be lopsided, looking towards its left. And it was eating something. It paid no attention to Simon, only focusing on whatever it was devouring. Simon stood there, contemplating on what to do. One thought seemed to bounce around his mind. Slowly, with gentle care, Simon raised his arm to touch the back of the beast. He could see his arm trembling, trying his best to ignore it as it edged closer. There was a tight tension that filled the small gap between the beast and Simon, until finally, he poked the beast lightly. A large pause seemed to echo around Simon, but before Simon could focus his attention on that detail, he was stopped when the beast lunged at him, its jaws clasping onto his throat as the warm feeling of blood rushed into his head.

Simon awoke with a loud yell, grasping his neck as if the large bite wound was still there. His breathing was rushed as the adrenalin shot up around his body. His body trembled for a while, as he attempted to calm his breathing. He usually knew what to do in these types of situations. Count to the largest number until he calmed down. As he breathed in slowly, he counted in his head, his heart beating at a less rapid pace than before. Slowly, with care Simon fell back into place, his eyes now facing the ceiling once more.

He listened around him, the sound of rain starting yet again outside, though he couldn't see in the pitch dark. He rolled onto his side, still counting in his mind to the highest number. His eyes grew heavy, yet Simon was terrified of falling back to sleep, in case the beast would come back once more. He cursed under his breath quietly, reprimanding himself for his childish fear over a small night terror. It wasn't unusual, Simon knew this. But yet the more he thought about it, the more that small sense of anxiety was starting to come back. He groaned soundlessly, his hands clenched into fists due to annoyance. As his eyes grew heavier, Simon could feel his heart go back to its usual pace, as he gently closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

Simon was awoken to the hushed sound of people chattering, the gentle light from the early morning creeping in from the cracked window. Simon groaned, stretching a bit, the sound of rustling filling the room as he shifted around. He blinked rapidly, attempting to blink away any sense of tiredness as his surroundings became more apparent. Simon didn’t know the exact time, only guessing it was the early morning judging from the modest sounds of small crowds talking to one another, getting ready for whatever was to come today. Simon stayed where he was, too tired to move, his bruises still aching from the night before as he rubbed his weary eyes. Slowly he leaned up, wincing when his aching bruises responded with pain. Simon rustled his messy hair, moving it away from his eyes. The room was beginning to become less dark, the faded light from outside filling it slightly from behind the thinly veiled curtains. He rested his hands to his side, his vision becoming less blurry.

He was too tired to get up, sitting still for a moment as he listened outside. It was a while before he finally gained enough motivation to get out of bed, his muscles groaning in the process as he attempted to get himself ready in a stable manner. It was too early for the usual days to begin, but Simon would usually spend his time investigating the smaller, more unnoticeable corners of Yharnam. After a few moments of silent cursings Simon found himself at the door, pausing as his hand gently rested upon the doorknob. He was feeling something strange, not fear nor normalcy, but something that felt like a mixture of indifference and contempt for himself. He shook his head as he opened the door, taking in his surroundings mentally as the chillness of the air seeped into his skin. The sky was a dusty grey, small hues of pink and orange blended in the distance. There was quiet commotion amongst a small crowd, nothing unusual for Yharnam, especially after a week or so from a previous hunt. Simon ignored this for the most part as he made his way towards the cathedral ward.

The scene was generally uninteresting to an outsider. Small groups of church hunter’s huddled together amongst the workshop, chattering about the hunt or when the next hunt should come. Others mentioned just ordinary things. Simon entered and made his way, a few hunters glancing their eyes towards him whilst whispering to one another, a few laughing hushedly. Simon rolled his eyes, paying no heed to them as he made his way through the narrow corridors. He saw Ludwig briefly, who seemed to be talking to someone. It wasn’t until he leaned in closer that he saw it was Laurence. The two narrowed their eyes slightly when they made eye contact with each other, Ludwig ignoring this motion to politely wave to Simon, as the vicar made a small motion of goodbye to the holy blade before taking his leave.

“Good morning to you” The tall hunter greeted as Simon reached him. He was smiling, Simon nodding as a reply, yawning a bit. “Good day to you too” he murmured back. Ludwig tilted his head a bit, his eyes were on Simon as he looked at his face. A slight sense of modest concern was in his eyes.

“You look tired,” he said. Simon shifted a bit, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m fine”

There was a long pause between the two. Ludwig sighed quietly, Simon avoiding his gentle gaze once more.

“Well, alright then. I have other things I need to discuss with you anyways” he responded, folding his arms as kept his stare upon Simon’s. Simon simply nodded his head once more, his eye contact between Ludwig still faltering.

“We believe we found out the identity of that hunter who attacked you and Gratia yesterday. Turns out he might’ve been with that group we saw a while ago” Ludwig stated.

Simon froze slightly, his eye twitching ever so slightly. He tried to memorise the hunter’s face, though it was difficult to remember due to the pure frenzy that happened between the two as Simon attempted to keep himself alive. He couldn't have been the leader of the group, nor that rugged hunter that tagged alongside him. Simon groaned a bit, rubbing his eyes as he tried to jog his memory. Ludwig remained quiet.

“We discussed it briefly with them, and they believe it might also be the case. Said that one of their hunter’s went missing for a bit.” Ludwig added. “Thankfully I suppose, it wasn’t the hunter that we saved back in the clinic, or the ones we met briefly for that matter”.

Simon said nothing, only murmuring silently in agreement after Ludwig finished speaking. He sighed briefly, rubbing his arms slightly.

“Suppose so” he responded. His eyes finally met back to Ludwig’s, that gentle sense of worry was still in his eyes, though Simon tried to ignore it for the most part.

“You look awful” Ludwig spoke once more, gently placing a hand on Simon’s shoulder, feeling him flinch.

“Like I said, I'm fine,” Simon said, clearing his throat. Ludwig narrowed his eyes, his hand still resting lightly on Simon’s shoulder.

“Well whatever you say, I can't force you anyways,” he replied. He paused a bit, before speaking once more. “By the way, I mentioned this situation to Laurence. If I remember correctly you were the first to identify his symptoms, no?”. Simon halted, responding with a slight hum as a yes. Ludwig smiled.

“Well, I believe that feature could be potentially useful in the long run,” he continued. Simon perked up a bit, looking directly towards Ludwig. “If you were able to spot his symptoms that quickly, we might be able to take more care with situations like these, avoid any possible fatalities that we can’t take immediate care of” he said. Simon remained silent, Ludwig’s hand was still on his shoulder.

“I guess I could take that position, if it clears things more” Simon replied in a hushed tone. Ludwig nodded, a small smile still on his face as he lifted his hand away from Simon’s shoulder.

“Great,” he responded. “I’ll notify Laurence on that”. Simon motioned his hand in a fake sense of congratulations, Ludwig chuckling quietly.

“I think that’s all for the most part, i’ll notify you on anything else” Ludwig spoke, still smiling modestly at Simon. As the two made their separate ways, Simon had that sudden feeling of being watched, the hairs on his neck pricking up. His suspicions would be proven right, when as he turned around he saw a familiar figure leaning against the stoned hallway, those familiar dull eyes looking back at him with curiosity. Simon stared back, as if long-term eye contact would frighten the other man away. He was unmoved, simply grinning slyly, his wolfish teeth showing off. Simon rolled his eyes, before walking away, Brador slinking back into the shadows from whence he came from. Most would question this motion with growing anxiety, yet Simon didn't. He had more important matters to tend to rather than question Brador’s actions, for the meantime anyways. He would worry about it later when he had the time to bother.

Chapter Text

There was always a sense of comfort that Lady Maria seemed to carry with her, hidden amongst her general aloofness whenever the night of the hunt was thrust into Yharnam, a sense that was generally shown off only to her patients or those who managed to stay close to the stoic hunter. It was difficult to describe. On one hand, it seemed to be that of warm solace. Yet, deeper in there was also something more to it, something that felt almost distant of sorts. 

Whatever the case was, it was always a delight whenever the hunter visited the patients that roamed and stumbled upon the Research Hall. More specifically, when she visited one specific patient.

The Research Hall was quiet that day, much more than usual, as the few patients made their way through the narrow and constricting hallways, choir members following behind them, like wolves to a flock of cattle. They waved sheepishly as Maria passed by, her gentle smile seemingly melting away that biting sense of chilliness that filled the hall as she made her way upon the crooked stairs that led to one of the many patient rooms, opening the rusted door with seeming ease.

The gentle sound of creaked-hinges filled the room as Maria showed her presence, that familiar scent of blood plagued her senses, though this was far less stronger than the type she would come across during the hunt. Amongst the room were two figures, a slightly younger looking doctor and one of the patients by the name of Adeline, a former blood saint who decided to partake in the church’s research. Although her face was slowly becoming shrouded in bandages, she produced a warm smile when her eyes were set upon the taller hunter. Maria simply raised a hand and waved back.

“Good evening Maria” the woman spoke, flinching slightly when the young doctor attempted to place a needle into her arm. Maria hummed as a response as she walked towards the two, the younger doctor looking up at her. There seemed to be a small sense of fear in his eyes. Adeline giggled quietly, as Maria motioned for the doctor to leave before taking a seat next to the former blood saint. It was quiet for a moment, before Maria broke the silence between the two.

“How have you been?” she spoke quietly, looking over at Adeline’s arm. “Is your arm alright?”. Adeline laughed a bit, rubbing her arm slightly as she sighed, relaxing her posture. She looked tired, but the former blood saint seemed to try and hide this feature from Maria

“I’m fine, thank you for asking” Adeline responded, her dark brown eyes still set upon Maria’s. “And what about you? I feel bad that you’re the only one here that asks me things these days” she added.

Maria cleared her throat, her eyes darting around the room a bit before looking back at Adeline once more. “I’m fine as well, I suppose”. She responded, shifting in her seat. Adeline tilted her head as she watched Maria closely.

“I heard the past couple of weeks have been rough,” Adeline replied, her fingers tapping an off-beat rhythm upon the arm of her chair. “Is everyone else okay? I’d hate to hear if something bad happened to them”. Maria leaned back in her chair, resting her head on her hand as she continued her eye contact with the blood saint.

“From what i’ve heard of, no one that we know personally” she said calmly. “Though apparently a few other hunters have been taken by the hunt, unfortunately, at least from what I've heard”. The blood saint simply nodded, resting her against her seat, her eyes shutting slowly.

“How unfortunate”

Lady Maria said nothing. She watched Adeline carefully, making sure the blood saint hadn’t fallen into an unwakeable sleep. That was a fear that went rampant amongst her thoughts during times like these. However, She felt a sense of relief when the blood saint opened her eyes once more, still smiling at Maria. There was a small sense of fatigue that was in her eyes, but she seemed to ignore this. Maria cleared her throat before speaking again, her fingers twitching in a slightly anxious manner.

“I’m worried about you” she stated boldly, pulling back a bit when she noticed it in her voice. Adeline raised her head, a mixture of certain surprise and something else was noticeable in her eyes. She laughed in a hushed way.

“Whatever for?” Adeline responded, the pupils in her eyes extending slightly as they widened. Maria made no movement, only responding once more.

“You look more exhausted each time I visit,” Maria answered. The tone in her voice was unnervingly calm, yet Adeline strangely could sense something else in it. She remained quiet as Maria continued.

“I’m just worried something might go wrong” Maria finished. “That’s all”

There was a strong silence between the two, only the sound of distant chatter amongst other patients and doctors from outside the door could be heard that filled the air that was seemingly close to bursting from tension. A few moments passed, before Adeline suddenly laughed quietly once more. This notion confused Maria slightly, to say the least. She looked up towards Adeline, the latter producing a small and gentle smile.

“I always appreciate your concern,” She responded calmly. Maria replied back.

“You know i mean well”

“Of course I do. Of course”

The two’s conversation became more relaxed, as they moved on to discussing other matters not relating to the church’s business. Maria was glad, for the most part, that the two still had their general close bond, even if the two did not have the right amount of time to talk due to church duties. An hour or two must have passed as they talked to one another, Adeline’s tiredness seeming to dissipate as each minute passed by. It felt like a good sign to Maria.

It wasn’t until their conversation would be put to a halt, when a choir member knocked before entering the room. Maria turned her head towards them.

“Lady Maria” the choir member said, a slight stutter could be heard in their voice as they said her name. Maria tilted her head as she waited for them to continue.

“Laurence is in need of your presence, says it’s important” They added.

“Did he say what for?” she asked.

“No, but it sounded urgent”

Maria simply sighed, turning back to Adeline. The other woman only nodded, still smiling. The choir member stepped outside as they waited, keeping the door slightly ajar.

“You should go, it sounds important,” Adeline said.

“I’m so sorry. I promise i’ll try and come by again later if i can”

“I’ll be waiting with bated breath” Adeline responded jokingly, Lady Maria giving a quick yet modest smile as a response as she walked out, leaving the blood saint behind once more.

Chapter Text

Long periods of time with no hunts was always bound to end in chaos. That was the general gist of most rumours that grew in Yharnam, and one that always eventually seemed to prove itself true in the most unfortunate cases.

After what felt like a month of momentary peace, eventually another hunt was set upon Yharnam, and one much bloodier than before. With this hunt, Ludwig had lost three more members from his group, with another two becoming lost to the inevitable bloodlust in Gehrman’s far smaller group. It was difficult times to say the least, but nonetheless Ludwig attempted to keep his head up, like any good hunter of the church would in times like these; he was just thankful that he hadn’t lost more.

It had been a hectic day; and the night was not becoming any easier, as church doctors proficient in the healing of far more drastic wounds ran from room to room to each patient as soon as the hunt had come to a stop for however long. The scene was grim though thankfully coming to a more stable status. There were a few moments where Ludwig caught sight of both Maria and Gehrman entering the scene, briefly talking with Laurence and a few other ministers, at least from what Ludwig could see. Though once the chaos slowly began to subvert, Ludwig found himself wandering outside into the dark courtyard of the chapel. It was cold, but not cold enough to make the church hunter shiver as he leaned against one of the many pillars that surrounded the courtyard. He sighed quietly, looking up towards the pitch darkness of the sky as he surrounded himself in his thoughts. He could distinctly hear the muffled sound of conversation that went amongst those inside, some mentioned the hunt; others seemed to be general and more calm discussions.

As Ludwig absentmindedly listened in, he suddenly felt something tap on his shoulder. He jumped only slightly, turning around and feeling a relief when he saw who it was.

“The holy blade skulking in the church’s courtyard? How unusual” Simon said, a small but playful grin was set upon his face. Ludwig rolled his eyes but produced a warm smile back at the younger man as Simon stood next to him. He seemed to be in a much merrier mood compared to when they last spoke to each other, though a dark shadow was slowly marking the underside of his eyes.

“Good to see you’re still in good health as per usual” the holy blade spoke. Simon only nodded, looking up at the sky like the latter. “I assume you’re hiding from the chaos too?”

“You could say that” the younger hunter answered back, leaning back against the wall. “How are you doing? You know with the whole-”

“I'm doing fine. Don’t worry about it” Ludwig replied tiredly. “I'm just thankful that there were no more casualties than what could’ve happened,” he added. Simon made no response, only nodding slightly. Ludwig, similar to Simon, leaned his posture back in a more relaxed position as he continued.

"And what about you? You look different from when we last met” he asked. And he was correct on that statement. Ever since the hunter situation in the sewer, Simon was appointed with a new occupation; one which allowed him to sneak through all the nooks and crannies of Yharnam disguised as a simple beggar, hunting down those possibly afflicted with the early signs of the scourge with swift movement like some church hound. It was a difficult job to say the least, but Simon seemed to be an expert. Though with this in mind, Ludwig couldn’t help but worry for the man in some capacity; the idea of killing someone still somewhat fully human always seemed to be a touchy subject amongst hunters, and one that was usually only left to those who specialised in that sort of mess. His thoughts were interrupted when Simon spoke.

“I'm fine,” Simon responded coolly, as usual; a sense of distance could be heard in his voice. Ludwig knitted his eyebrows after Simon’s response, but he tried not to think of it too much.

“The church ministers will be having fun with this case i can only assume”

Ludwig sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes as he squinted. “It’s a mess,” he said quietly. Simon looked back at him, his eyes softening ever so slightly.

“Are they going to confront you about it?” Simon asked gently. Ludwig shrugged.

“Not sure. I don’t think they have much to discuss with me outside of member fatalities”

Simon produced a small hum as a response, crossing his arms together as a gentle cold wind blew against the two. It was quiet for a moment, before Ludwig stood upright and spoke.

“How’s the new occupation treating you? I haven’t seen you around as much” Ludwig enquired. Simon turned his attention to the far distance from the courtyard, looking beyond silently before answering.

“Difficult. But I'll get by,” he responded calmly. “I found that it’s easier at night. Less people around i suppose”

Ludwig nodded slowly, his eyes still fixated on the younger man as he spoke. There was something in his eyes that Ludwig couldn’t recognise, yet it was hard to distinguish what it was. Was it empathy? Whatever the case was Ludwig simply continued to listen, resting his head upon his hand. Simon turned back to him.

“By the way. You don’t happen to know anything about a certain church assassin, may I ask?”

Ludwig was taken back slightly, but responded. “You met Brador?”

“Not necessarily by choice” Simon answered back. Ludwig furrowed his brow.

“Did you do something?” 

“Not that I'm aware of, no. Though thankfully our confrontation wasn’t long” the younger man replied. “Though i will admit, not exactly how i expected him to be”

Ludwig shook his head, chuckling quietly. “Ah he’s like that sometimes,” he stated. “You know, you two are similar”. Simon raised an eyebrow at the Holy Blood, tilting his head. “What do you mean by that?”

“You’re both very quiet” Ludwig answered, grinning when Simon rolled his eyes at his response.

“Yeah well, I have my reasons” Simon answered back.

“Oh? And what for?” Ludwig asked with sarcastic curiosity.

“To keep out of sight of course” Simon quipped back, smacking a hand gently against Ludwig’s back, producing a hushed laugh in the process. Ludwig grinned.

“Ah well, I suppose I should retract that statement now,” Ludwig replied.

“As you should”

The two laughed quietly, the cold air surrounding them burning gently and dissipating in the process. There were a few moments of silence that followed, before Simon turned his attention back towards the entrance of the chapel, his eyes sharpening once more.

“Looks like you’ll be having company” he stated, a tone of subtle hostility cut through his voice; Ludwig looked back.

“Must be the ministers,” Ludwig answered, standing upright. “I should get going, Laurence might have important matters to discuss with me”

“Have fun” Simon responded, the sound of light sarcasm could be heard in his hushed voice.

Ludwig nodded, patting Simon gently on the shoulder before taking his leave, the sound of hushed commotion could be heard inside as someone’s name was briefly mentioned, though Simon couldn’t hear who’s name it was.

Caryll found her patience running thin, the sound of repeated echoed tapping as the heel of her shoe bobbed up and down whilst she waited. She was not usually this antsy, however in this situation she found herself in a rising agitation. There was no sign of Laurence, nor Gehrman either, and she could briefly hear commotion downstairs of the aftermath of whatever chaos happened after the hunt.

She felt her eye twitch, rubbing underneath it carefully as she exhaled gently. Her ears perked up when the sound of footsteps neared her, though she relaxed her posture when Ludwig made his entrance. He politely waved at her. Caryll shrugged as a response.

“Greetings” Ludwig spoke first. “Any sign of Laurence? I can only presume you’re waiting for him too?”

Caryll nodded back slowly, crossing her arms together tightly. “Well you’re out of luck, I've been waiting for more than twenty minutes and I haven't seen any signs of him yet” she answered, looking up at the Holy Blade. Despite her frailness, she almost stood the same height as the Church Hunter himself.

“Ah, a shame” the Holy Blade replied, pulling a hand up to brush a flock of hair away from his face. “I thought i’d see him here, the ministers said he had something to discuss with me”

Caryll produced a small laugh, though a tone of hidden bitterness could be heard in it. She pinched the top of the ridge of her nose sharply, her eyes tightening as she felt a fatigue sweep over her, though she remained firm. 

“Sounds chaotic down there” She added, removing her hand from her face as she turned back to Ludwig. “I heard about the hunters in yours and Gehrman’s group, my sincerest condolences.” Ludwig smiled back weakly.

“Thank you,” he responded. Caryll was silent, however she found herself coughing slightly. It rattled against her throat rather harshly. Ludwig looked over at her.

“Everything alright?”

“It’s nothing. Just a mere thing” Caryll said, seemingly shielding her throat with a hand as Ludwig’s eyes softened.

“If you say it’s fine then i’ll believe it” Ludwig murmured. “Just maybe take it easy for a bit”

Caryll made no response, instead turning her attention to the other side of the hall as someone walking up from the bottom of whatever stairs lay in wait could be heard. Ludwig followed in this action.

“Laurence I assume?”

“Better be” Caryll muttered, standing up straight as Laurence revealed himself, that usual indifferent smile set upon his face. Ludwig chuckled a bit, before making his way slowly towards the Vicar, the Runesmith following behind.

The night grew darker, as Simon made his way through constricting halls of barren night streets. His eyes sharpened as his pace quickened, though his agility remained strong despite the crookedness of the ground beneath him. After a while of walking he found himself at the edge of a small but noticeable drop down from the top layer he stood upon, an almost unwelcoming yet intriguing darkness waiting for him below. He smirked to himself, as with agile care Simon made his way down, hopping down from ledge to ledge until he landed with an unnoticeable silence.

He dusted himself off, before slowly making his way through the crookedness of the darker tunnel he landed next upon. He squinted his eyes as he made his way through, any gentle light from lanterns nearby slowly dissipating as he made his way deeper. He could sense something in the air, something that felt like a mix between that of the general Yharnam scent, as well as something that felt like that harshness of frenzy. He paid no heed to this, continuing his way as the path grew steeper. It was strangely quieter than Simon had anticipated, leaning his hand and tracing it along the cracked walls that stood beside him as he walked. As he walked he could see a dark, pitch black tunnel towards his sight. Curiosity rang inside him, as he slowly crept towards it, that seeming void of it creeping more closer to him than he.

However, before he could become fully enveloped, he heard a voice behind him. A very familiar voice.

“Going somewhere?”

With quick haste Simon drew out a long silver arrow from amongst his pocket and swung sharpley, but stopped to a halt immediately when he saw the figure. The thin arrow’s tip was only inches away from Brador’s face, a sly and wolfish grin formed on his face, one of his canine teeth biting down on his bottom lip. Simon scoffed, withdrawing his arrow as his eyes met the latter’s with harshness.

“What the hell are you doing here” Simon said, a hushed strain could be heard in his usually calm and soft voice. Brador lifted two hands in the air jokingly, keeping his dull eyes set upon Simon.

“Just making sure you don’t get yourself into more trouble, I suppose,” he said. Simon rolled his eyes, putting his arrow away with gentle grace. His sharp eyes glistened in the dark, narrowing as he set his sight upon the other assassin. Brador simply smiled back, straightening his posture slightly.

“I’m fine on my own” Simon said in a hushed tone, looking back at the tunnel, before turning back to Brador. “I can only assume the Vicar sent you?” he added. The way he uttered ‘vicar’ made it almost sound like a curse. Brador shrugged. “Would you still react the same if i told you i came here on my own perhaps?” Brador answered back. Simon coaxed an eyebrow at the assassin, his fingers twitching. The quietness between the two seemed to echo in the air. Only the sound of gentle breathing could be heard. Simon cleared his throat after a moment.

“If that’s the case, then I must repeat myself when I say I'm fine on my own” Simon responded, his eyes narrowing further as he edged away from the assassin, his back facing the cracked wall. “I won’t cause any trouble, if that’s what you’re really wondering”. Brador tilted his head, his wolfish grin still plastered upon his face as he watched Simon. 

“Is that so?” He said, suddenly walking towards the younger man, slowly backing him against the wall that hid behind them both. Simon’s eyes dodged around his surroundings as the assassin grew closer. Simon leaned his back up against the wall, his sharp eyes looking into Brador’s. His breathing was shaking slightly, but he tried to ignore it, instead keeping his sharp stare upon Brador's.

“I’m sensing some hostility” Simon said quietly, his fists clenching as he spoke. Brador chuckled, his previously dull eyes becoming brighter. 

“Maybe you could say that,” the taller man responded, slowly lifting an arm up to the wall in order to block any possible escape. Simon swallowed as he stared back, tilting his head upwards to properly look at the assassin. Tension rang in the air, almost as if at any moment Brador would suddenly transform into some wretched beast and tear himself and Simon apart. Silence was in the surroundings between them, before Simon finally broke it.

“ I’m not afraid of you ”

Brador narrowed his eyes. Simon did the same. The two said nothing to each other. Simon could feel Brador’s breath against his face, wincing slightly as Brador produced a wheezed chuckle.

“Sure. Whatever you say” The man replied, releasing his arm away from the wall as he slowly backed away, giving Simon space once more. Brador cracked his knuckles, Simon’s stare was still upon him, yet he seemed to pay no heed to this action. He looked back at Simon, his relaxed posture juxtaposed with Simon’s.

“Go back to whatever game you were playing,” He said. “But I must warn you, there's a path you might tread that you won’t come back from”

Simon made no response. Brador arched his back slightly as he stood, that once small hint of brightness in his eyes dissipating slowly again once more, though his crooked wolfish grin was still firmly plastered on his face. Simon scowled at him, though his appearance amongst Brador’s was the least bit intimidating.

“Whatever” Simon said in an almost hissed tone, his eyes sharpening like never before as his sight was set upon Brador’s. The assassin simply scoffed, before slowly slinking back into whatever shadow he sprung out from. Simon stood still, waiting until Brador’s presence had completely disappeared. When he was sure of this, Simon suddenly found himself falling against the wall behind him, his breathing shaking and rattling against his chest. Simon hugged his knees slightly as he breathed in and out to the best of his abilities. It seemed as if the darkness of the night was slowly enveloping him whole, yet Simon attempted to remain firm. After a moment of quietness, Simon got back up, turning his eyes once more to the darkness of the tunnel in front of him. The silence of it all rang round and round, as Simon carefully made his way through, the darkness swallowing him whole.

Chapter Text

Ludwig had often considered himself a patient man. He had learnt to live with patience as the world around him grew harsher, and the people who roamed Yharnam grew more unruly and unpredictable by the day as the disaster of a previous hunt had made its mark for the next month. He was a patient man to put it bluntly. However at times of desperation Ludwig couldn’t help but feel a rapid sense of becoming antsy, as more things after the hunt were becoming unexplainable to the public, and he knew of those with prying eyes who’d risk it all to uncover what was really going on. Day after day Ludwig couldn’t help that feeling of becoming enclosed in an ever shrinking box as each hunt passed.

It was that usual morning where Ludwig found himself once more with weary patience. The vicar had called to him once more with a need to discuss an important manner, though like usual he did not specify on what. Ludwig had assumed it had something to with the enclosed sections in Old Yharnam, where the beast plague seemed to be at it’s worst and more and more Yharnamites found themself being forced to flee to the higher and ‘safer’ areas amongst Central Yharnam, closer to the safety of the Healing Church’s gates. There was a slight chill in the air, one that Ludwig had grown accustomed to, before pulling his coat tighter as he made his way up the steps leading to the Grand Cathedral. Unlike usual there was not a cloud in sight, and so the whole city had become enveloped in a gentle light. It was almost peaceful. 

As Ludwig had finally reached the top of the steps, he found himself looking back once more at the wider sight of Yharnam from above. The darkness of the towering buildings below juxtaposed with the gentle sunlight was a sight to see, yet Ludwig couldn’t help but feel a sense of a foreboding presence. Somehow, somewhere, Ludwig couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched by something. Something he couldn’t see. Whatever it was, Ludwig ceased to think about it as he entered through the Cathedral doors.

The interior of the Cathedral itself was a sight to behold, as the light that came from outside became coated in a layer of varied colours that marked the tainted glass from amongst the windows, along with the general sight from the altar itself, as different statues representing varied Church saints decorated it in an almost clustered and circled fashion. Even the entrance itself was a sight to see, as each side contained an archaic figure of some sorts, something non-human that yet had the features that could mark it as human. They were uncanny of some sorts, and something that Ludwig occasionally found himself unnerved by from time to time, though overtime he had found himself becoming used to their foreboding senses.

At once when Ludwig had entered, he had heard the quiet sound of conversation, one belonging to Laurence whilst another was unfamiliar to any that Ludwig had heard before. Before long he had finally caught sight of the vicar, and the owner of the unfamiliar voice as Ludwig came closer.

The owner of the voice appeared to be a young woman, shorter compared to the vicar, and looked no older than 18 at the least. Her hair was a pale blond, almost greyish white, with gentle bows that marked each side of her curls that ran down the sides of her face. Her eyes were green, though far paler and less intense compared to the eyes that belonged to those of whom that resided in Cainhurst. She was adorned with the familiar clinicalness of the church garb, the gentle greys and whites of her dress contrasting nicely with her adorned bows. She looked up towards Ludwig, folding her arms together in front of herself politely, the garb of her sleeves almost covering her hands. Laurence greeted the taller hunter.

“Glad to see that you could attend” the Vicar spoke calmly, reaching a hand towards the younger woman’s shoulder. The young woman smiled shyly. Ludwig nodded his head as a form of small greeting, as Laurence ushered the younger woman to leave the two. Laurence smiled as Ludwig cleared his throat.

“I don’t believe I've met her before” Ludwig said, looking back towards the exit doors of the Cathedral as they shut with a gentle yet loud thud. Laurence moved closer towards the altar, facing away from Ludwig as he busied himself with something else.

“Her name is Amelia” Laurence answered cooly, moving something amongst the altar, though Ludwig couldn’t see what. “She’s an apprentice of sorts”. Whilst Ludwig had escaped the thin frost that plagued the air from outside, he couldn’t help but feel a slight shiver run down his skin.

“An apprentice for what, might I ask?” Ludwig enquired, that usual tone of politeness echoed in his voice. “She doesn’t look like a member of the Choir”

 Laurence was still focused on whatever he was doing as he replied placidly.

“In case anything drastic were to happen” Laurence stated. It was a bold statement, and one that made Ludwig furrow his brow towards the vicar’s remark.

“What do you mean by that?”

Laurence was quiet for a moment, the sound of something quietly clicking could be heard before it stopped, as Laurence continued.

“Just in case” Laurence noted. “You know how unpredictable the hunts have become”.

Ludwig bit his lip and Laurence continued whatever he was doing.

“ Laurence ”

“As I stated before, just in case” Laurence repeated calmly. “I’m sure you would do the same”.

Ludwig felt something tense inside of him, but yet he simply could only nod, sighing quietly as his eyes darted slowly as he looked towards the tainted glass of the windows, painted colours forming gently in the light from outside. His attention came back to Laurence as the vicar turned back to face him.

“But there is something important i need to discuss with you” The vicar stated, a hand clasped gently around the golden pendant that hung from his neck. “And I need to make sure that you’re willing to do this for me. For Yharnam”

Ludwig was still for a moment, before Laurence continued.

“I’m listening,” Ludwig answered.

“The past few hunts have gotten rougher as you know, and with the rapid spread of beasts appearing in the lower sections of Old Yharnam i fear the next few hunts will start to become more devastating”

Ludwig listened patiently, as he always did in these situations. As the vicar finished his sentence Ludwig responded.

“And what do you suggest?”

Silence. Before Laurence broke the silence.

“I’ve discussed this with some of the other church ministers, and we decided that it’d be best to take action sooner” Laurence replied, pausing for a moment, before continuing. “In order to prevent further damage from happening”.

Another pause.

“What type of action, my good vicar?” Ludwig inquired, his eyes feeling strained from asking the simple question.

Pause.

It takes awhile for the vicar to respond, perhaps longer than the Holy Blade finds comfortable. Finally, he responds, the eloquent tone of his voice running smooth against the air.

“The best action we can truly think of to solve this problem, my dear friend,” the vicar answered calmly.

“Vague, as ever”  Ludwig thought to himself, yet he made no comment.

Though at the back of his mind, Ludwig felt something strange, something almost foreboding. It was the way the vicar talked. Of course Ludwig was very used to the almost cryptic way that Laurence spoke, nearly everyone affiliated with the church spoke in a strange manner and he was no better. However, something about the wording that the vicar used, the use of silver-toned words and detail dancing between each other, felt off to Ludwig.

But then Ludwig thought for a moment. For Yharnam. Those words rang in Ludwig’s head.

It must’ve been a long pause before Laurence gently broke the silence. “I’ll give you some time to think” he spoke, his hand no longer grasping at his pendant as it lay against his chest once more. 

That was the last that Laurence spoke of before Ludwig took his leave, his pace slightly faster than usual as Laurence watched from afar, his figure disappearing once the heavy doors collapsed together, leaving Ludwig alone with himself again. Ludwig bit his lower lip once more, for a moment he could’ve sworn he could taste iron in his mouth. It didn’t feel normal for him to be unnerved, he had worked for the church for nearly two decades now. Yet he couldn’t help but feel that way. For a moment, it felt like the gentle light from the sky above watched Ludwig’s every move.

“Dear gods what have you done this time”

 That was the first sentence that Archibald was able to utter towards the companion standing before him. 

 The young man was used to the wild eccentrics of Izzy, no doubt partly due to his own curiosities and inventions, both of which were often turned down when brought up amongst the ministers of the Healing Church. However, compared to Izzy, Archibald often considered whether the ministers somehow mistook him for Izzy themselves, or rather blended the two together into one.

 “Oh don’t be so harsh old friend” Izzy replied coolly, a sharp light glinting in their wild eyes. “This surely isn’t the craziest of my inventions that you’ve seen so far”. Resting heavily in their arms was some sort of contraption; One that looked almost shoddily put together. Its ends were sharp and pointed, like the claws of a mad dog. Izzy was smiling heavily, pointed canines poking out from behind their lips ever so slightly.

 Archibald scoffed quietly, readjusting the monocle that had slid slightly off from his eye, before standing up from where he had tripped and fallen out of shock.

 "I am simply stating the obvious, that being the ministers would rather contract the beast plague themselves than accept that contraption" Archibald responded, surprising himself with his own harsh tone. Nonetheless, the shorter figure in front of him did not lose their smile, instead seemingly widening it at the answer Archibald gave, their glasses shining in the harsh light of the office around them.

 "And that's precisely what makes it interesting!" Izzy exclaimed, bobbing their head up in an attempt to readjust their own heavy-seated glasses, before placing down their bizarre contraption onto the table beneath them, producing a loud 'thump' noise.

 "come closer, you haven't even seen it properly yet"

Archibald groaned softly, before edging closer, his tall figure almost towering over Izzy. Despite the roughness of which the contraption was set up onto the table, along with the already tattered bandages that held it in place, it was surprisingly sturdy, still in tact from however long Izzy had worked on it. Archibald squinted, adjusting his monocle unknowingly in the process.

"what... What exactly am I looking at?"

 Izzy barked a sudden and quick laugh, pointing an index finger to the ridge of their glasses before placing their hands on the table besides their contraption.

 "a new weapon!" the figure laughed, biting their lower lip as they smiled widely. Archibald furrowed his brow. "I call it the beast claw!"

 "the beast claw?" Archibald inquired, curiosity mixed with uncertainty fuelling his tone. "a little on the nose, no?"

 Izzy giggled, the sound piercing Archibald's ears, before answering the man's inquiries once more.

 "it's just a placeholder name, for now" Izzy stated, "i'll think of something better later, once i finish adding the final details". Archibald simply hummed as a response, his eye's fixating on the contraption that Izzy proudly showed off. Archibald crossed his arms together, moving his head in a semi circular fashion as the figure next to him waited patiently.

"Let me share a word of advice" 

"And what might that be?"

"The next time you want to show me something new" Archibald said, "please, for the love of gods, don't startle me about it"

Izzy laughed, much less harshly compared to earlier. From an outsider's perspective, it would've seemed as if Izzy laughed at anything they found peculiar to them.

It wasn't long however, until the both were interrupted by a harsh toned voice.

 "And what are you two fanatics up to now?" Caryll asked, the usual gruffness of irritation struggling in her words. The eyebags that lay underneath her eyes were much clearer than usual, sharpening her already gloomy face. Izzy chuckled rigidly, lifting their hands to show off.

"I am simply presenting good Archibald here, a new weapon i've been working on" Izzy gleamed, smiling more sharply than before. Caryll's face was unmoving, and unimpressed with the words that Izzy sung. 

"No doubt another concoction that'll be banned within seconds once shown off to the church ministers and Laurence himself" she stated sharply, walking more closely to the light. A fresh scar lay above her forehead. The sharpness in which she pronounced Laurence's name interested Archibald for a moment, as if his name was some sort of slur to her now.

"What's the fun in creating new things that don't shock the people from the beginning of its creation, dear Caryll?" Izzy quipped back almost playfully, much to the clear distaste of Caryll. She made no comment, aside from the harsh twitch that emitted from beneath her right eye. Ever since the 'disappearance' of Rom, who's presence always seemed to quell Caryll's tired irritability,  it seemed as if Master Willem's most praised student had plundered once more into quiet loneliness, and one that seemed to have an effect on her physical health as well. 

"Yes, and the 'shocking' creations that you invent, might I ask how useful they are in the end?" She asked bluntly.

"Perhaps this one will get past the ministers" Archibald noted, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his folded arms. "looking at it closer it's... Not too bizarre". There was a hint of small doubt in his voice.

"Perhaps those in some of the other hunter groups will favour it" Izzy then added. "What's the name of that one group? the one's who have a peculiar interest in firepower?"

"The Powderkegs?"

"Yes! yes, that group" Izzy exclaimed enthusiastically. Caryll rolled her eyes.

"Well, as far as i'm aware, and i hope, i don't see anything related to 'firepower' that would attract the interest of that group in this thing you've created. So, good luck with that" Caryll replied. Archibald, sighed, placing both hands on the sides of his hips, his monocle slipping off again, before being pushed back into place once more.

 The Irreverent Izzy made no comment, yet the wide smile that lay printed on their face was still intact, though Archibald couldn't help but notice a slight hint of passive aggression in it. Though his eyes had a tendency to fool him each day. 

"Just give it some time. You'll see soon my good friend" Izzy replied, a gentle whistle emitting from between their teeth as they spoke.

Chapter Text

“If one is not foolish in life, then one shan't be foolish even in death”

That was a piece of advice that Gehrman has followed since the very start of his contribution towards the healing church, and one that he had every intention of keeping for as long as he knew he’d live.

There was a gentle yet bitter snowfall that had plagued the entire first half of the day, though Gehrman was at least thankful that there were no signs of an even bitter snowfall.

Whilst Gehrman was glad, he wasn’t content.

The day itself had started off bitterly in more ways than one. The muscles and joints that contorted round Gehrman’s knee swelled painfully with each passing day, and today it seemed to only grow worse. There were times where he felt as though the beasts were luckier than him. 

The day had started off as usual. Running errands for the church whilst slaughtering the last remaining beasts that had scurried off into the darkest corners of Yharnam, away from prying eyes. He had stumbled upon a larger group of hunters nearby the aqueducts, surrounded by what Gehrman had first assumed were merely corpses. It hadn’t been until he looked closer, that he had noticed what they truly were.

Two beastly yellow eyes stared weakly at him, sharp and mangled teeth poking out from beneath the corners of it’s mouth. Gehrman furrowed his brow as he looked down upon the corpse that lay beneath him, his boot pressing down lightly against the corpse’s shattered claw. Whilst he stared for a moment, he could hear the sound of a few others being pushed out and sent falling into the dark abyss of the aqueducts by the hunters around him. One hunter spoke:

“You shan’t need to worry about them any more,” the younger hunter said, “the Ministers ordered us to dump them down there. Says they’ll be less of a nuisance when the hunt comes ‘round”.

Gehrman huffed quietly, looking up at the hunter before focusing part of his attention back down into the pit that lay beneath them. It was dark, disease-riddled and certainly no place for an ordinary Yharnamite to wander around alone, lest they wanted to wander aimlessly into the darkness as a newfound beast, or whatever else could be found wandering down there…

“Let us just hope that they don’t learn how to climb” one other hunter replied, a hushed laugh arising from another hunter nearby. Only one other hunter seemed to shake their head in shamed disapproval.

Gehrman frowned, but paid no heed to their words. They were young. Inexperienced. They would discover the horrors soon enough.

A cold wind blew against his hair as he stared down at the mangled corpse once more, its dilated and dull pupils staring back into his own. It groaned quietly, attempting to sit up, before collapsing into the wet cobblestone ground once more. A sorrowful sight for any hunter to witness. But nothing new. Gehrman had grown numb to it.

Gehrman felt strange as he stared silently. For a moment it seemed like the hunters around him all disappeared, leaving nothing behind beside Gehrman himself and the beastly corpse beside him. Something in him rang quietly. 

Was it pity?

Gehrman ignored it.

The hunters nearby were quiet, watching cautiously as the older hunter continued to stare. One whispered quietly to the other, receiving a small nudge from the other as a response.

Gehrman ignored it.

“Sir?”

Gehrman breathed in, looking down one last time. The corpse lay still, only its eyes moving around to see whatever surrounded it. For a moment, it croaked.

Gehrman ignored it.

“Finish up whatever business you have here” Gehrman finally answered to the young hunters. “Afterwards you can go scout out towards the border of the forest” he added.

The young hunters only nodded, hastily getting back to whatever business they had originally been doing as Gehrman straightened himself. For a moment he looked back down into the black abyss of the aqueducts. The faint sound of scurrying footsteps could be heard.

He sighed. 

“Rats again”   he thought to himself. A slight annoyance rang around him. But it didn’t matter. There was another time to deal with that later.

Chapter Text

The smell of ash and flames were more prominent than ever. 

The sky was draped in a deep orange, the gentle lights from the fires of the city flickering and dissipating in the cold winter wind. Despite it initially snowing that day, the heat from the flames made it seem otherwise, with only the surplus sight of faint ash falling from the sky above, covering the roofs above in a thick grey.

Ludwig was on the highest ledge, looking over. The whole city of Old Yharnam was in flames, hues of yellow and orange lighting up every corner. He sighed for a moment, the cold yet warm wind blowing against his hair. 

On one side of him, a young hunter throws a Molotov cocktail in front of a group of beasts, the soaked flame engulfing them whole. On the other side of Ludwig, a scourged werewolf swipes its mountainous claws at another hunter, marking them with a streak of harsh red, as a hunter besides it plunges it's axe into its thick hide.

As Ludwig watches from above, he listens for a moment as he looks up towards the orange tinted sky, the sound of shrill cries from beasts and people alike echoing around him. He tried to think for a moment, but the crackling of fire around him filled his ears to the point that he could think no more for the time being. Ludwig took a deep breath, as deep as he could with all the smoke surrounding him as he descended down into the depths of the flaming city, drawing out his holy blade. It would be a long night he thought to himself, as he took the plunge.

The Holy Blade moved with caution as he made his way through narrow and half burnt alleyways, taking care of the few beasts that blocked his way. The night moved along slowly, far slower than Ludwig would’ve preferred. As he walked he could hear the sound of a harsh bell being rung repeatedly as the panicked yells and hurried footsteps of citizens could be heard from nearby. Ludwig was just somewhat thankful that some were being escorted away from the burning city, away from the clawed and mangled grips of beasts and other night creatures alike. Far too many people had lost their lives already, far more than Ludwig could bear. He just wanted this to be over with as quickly as possible.

Before long Ludwig had found himself standing in front of one of the two former churches. Unlike the surrounding buildings within the city, the church appeared to be entirely untouched. The only thing that stood out to Ludwig was the faint light coming from within the building itself. It was hard to see from Ludwig’s perspective, but from his own speculation it appeared to be the light emitted from a few lanterns, at least what Ludwig hoped were lanterns.

Slowly the Holy Blade braced himself as he took a step inside, the sound of broken glass crackling and scraping against his boots. His footsteps echoed gently as he walked across the hallway, coming across the bodies of fallen beast patients, their pale and glassy eyes seemingly staring into Ludwig himself. Not long after, the sound of conversation could be heard within earshot, as the Holy Blade carefully made his way down the crooked stairs. 

Once Ludwig had descended down the stairs he finally came across the source of conversation. Before him stood a group of men, no more than 5 or 6 of them. From what Ludwig could see they did not appear to be hunters, rather regular working men, though at this point Ludwig didn’t have the strength to have any qualms with them being here. After all, the more volunteers the better was what Gehrman and the other ministers would preach often in the harsher times of the hunt.

Ludwig stepped closer towards the group as they turned their heads towards him, a few with weapons like pitchforks and shovels clasped tightly in their gloved hands. Their cheeks and aprons were smeared with a charcoal like substance. A few others had blood splattered messily on them, though Ludwig couldn’t blame them for this factor. Nowadays it was harder to stay clean than ever before. One of the men standing at the front took the courage to speak. 

“You must be the Holy Blade, right?” the man asked. A thick accent could be heard in his voice, though Ludwig understood it well. "Don't think i've ever seen you in person" 

“You would be correct,” Ludwig answered back. His attention was focused on the man in front of him, yet for a moment as his eyes wandered he stared up and noticed something most peculiar. The other men noticed this and turned their attention to what stood behind them.

Stood stall and towering above the group was the body of a beast. Well, at least what Ludwig thought was a beast. Its upper arms were strung facing away from each other, sore and torn skin bleeding from each inflamed wound. Its face, although draped in what Ludwig at first assumed (and somewhat hoped) was a cloak seen on many other beasts from Old Yharnam, appeared completely skeletal, its sharp and protruding teeth poking from within its crooked mouth. Its sunken eyes, like many before it, where a milky white. Ludwig couldn't see up close, but he could only assume that the beast's pupils had collapsed completely. 

Ludwig inhaled quietly as he stared at it. After a moment, Ludwig put his attention back onto the group who stood before him.

“I’m assuming this wasn’t your doing?”

The man at the front laughed hushedly, seemingly rattling against his throat as he coughed for a moment, in no doubt from the charcoal that was smeared around him. 

“I’d say we’re pretty good at taking care of the beasts” he replied, “but no, this was already here when we arrived” 

Ludwig raised an eyebrow at the last comment, however he found himself unable to further inquire. Another man from the group added:

“I don’t see why you should bother on asking who did the job. Not like that changes what’s been done” 

Ludwig made no reply, simply nodding in a neutral attempt of agreement. As he looked up one last time at the carcass before him he cleared his throat before speaking.

“Either way, if you’re done with whatever you were doing here then I suggest heading back to the centre” Ludwig instructed. “Let those with more experience take care of the rest”.

A few members from within the group gave Ludwig a few looks, though nonetheless they seemingly complied, gathering up their weapons as they made their way towards the nearest exit. A few glanced back at the towering beast from above, before hastily walking off. The man who previously stood at the front paused for a moment, before turning back to Ludwig one final time. 

“You want a word of advice?” 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it” the Holy Blade answered back calmly, his tired eyes staring back. 

The man stood for a moment, before responding back.

“I don’t know much about what that thing is, or, what it used to be” He murmured. “But if i were you, i’d proceed with caution if any more of those are found wandering around” 

Ludwig nodded silently in a moment of silent understanding.

“You never know what’s wandering around this city anymore” the man said, before adding. " Besides, wouldn't want our Holy Blade to go under", before finally catching up with the rest of the group, back into the harsh embrace of a half burnt city they would’ve formerly called home. 

Ludwig was now alone once more; the only company being the bodies of fallen beasts left behind. Left forgotten in the burning fire of a once crowded city. He sighed quietly, though the sound alone echoed throughout his surroundings. 

For a moment as Ludwig looked up one last time, upon the sunken eyes of the beast that stood bound before him, he could’ve sworn, for just a moment, that they were staring quietly back at him.

With great haste Ludwig had found himself once more back at the centre of the former city. The flames were still strong as ever, though in the distance some were beginning to fade away as the wind blew. Ludwig made no comment, simply watching from where he stood. He felt oddly calm, for a moment, despite the severity of the situation. 

Whilst Ludwig stood silently, a familiar voice crept up from behind him.

"I see you made it all in one piece" Lady Maria spoke, gently detaching her beloved rakuyo as she walked up towards the Holy Blade. Her hair and face were drenched in both blood and ash. Nothing uncommon at this point. 

Ludwig smiled warmly at her, though the shadows of restlessness enveloped his dark eyes. "I'm glad to see you safe and sound too" 

Maria nodded back in response, looking back towards the ashen remains of the city as the sky began to turn into the gentle pink of a familiar sunrise. Conversation was not her strong point, though Ludwig held no ill will to her for this. Her bottle-green eyes were focused. 

Ludwig was silent for a moment, biting his lower lip, before looking up towards the hunter before him.

"Do you know if anyone...?"

Lady Maria rubbed her lower eyelid before replying.

"Anyone we know? as far as I know Gehrman and Gratia are still walking" Maria said coolly. "As for any others, i'm afraid it wouldn't surprise me if we lost a few"

Ludwig was quiet, placing his hands on his hips as he stared up towards the sky for a moment. Lady Maria stood patiently, simply waiting. There was a brief silence between the two, as Ludwig was somewhat lost in thought, the other hunter waiting silently.

After a moment, Ludwig stared back once more at the other hunter.

"Perhaps it would be more fitting to discuss back at the Cathedral" Ludwig spoke. "I'm sure the ministers would have more knowledge than us"

"That they will perhaps" Maria answered back, her lower eyelid having been gently dyed with a faded red from her gloved fingers.

The two hunters made their way, ascending upwards from the residue of burnt ash and smoke, the sound of wind howling almost pitifully against the two. Ludwig said no words, focusing more on each step he took as though one misstep would send him falling downwards into the flamed abyss below. Down and down into a former city, home to only those few beasts that had survived that cruel grasp of the cleansing fire. Home to hunters no more.

Chapter Text

It rained that day.

The aftermath of the fires drifted slowly through the sky, heaps of smoke and steam weaving and flowing gently, dissipating within thin air as dim orange lights hissed and snared as they bled out slowly. This was the outcome of the great fire, a city now shrouded in black ash with whatever few remaining beasts managing to creep away from the eager eyes of hunters. A city now forever forgotten.

The gentle clack of a cane tapped against the cobbled ground, a short rhythm produced with each quiet thump. A few drops of rain fell upon Gehrman as he walked, a face of slight annoyance emanating from the old hunter. For the time being he ignored it, making his way through twisting silent streets. Before long a roadway with a roof above was found, allowing for the older man to make his way without the cold surprise of rain falling down.

The sound of his cane echoed slightly through the hallway as he walked, the ambience of heavy rain followed suit. An occupied bench was in sight as Gehrman crept closer. His brow furrowed when noticed who the figure was, standing to a halt once he reached the edge of the bench in front of him. The figure was slouched forwards.

“Good day to you,” Brador replied. There was a fresh cut underneath his eye. Gehrman exhaled quietly before answering back.

“What brings an assassin of the church to be sitting out here?” the old hunter enquired, a grimace in tone could be heard within his voice as he spoke. Brador turned his head towards Gehrman finally, producing a wolfish grin as a first response. A small slit of blood could be noticed within the corner of his upper canine. 

“Afraid to mingle with the commoners?” Brador responded back, his position painstakingly relaxed. The motion irritated Gehrman ever so slightly, though he did his best to hide this annoyance away from the prying eye of the assassin sitting in front of him. 

“No, I simply wouldn’t have thought that a man guised in quietly taking out those who oppose the church would be sitting out here in plain sight,” Gehrman said calmly, seemingly swallowing down his irritation. This was a lie. 

Brador made no comment, staying fixed in his position as Gehrman shuffled a bit before placing himself next to the church assassin, placing both hands firmly against the curved handle of his cane, standing still above his waist as he sat. Brador turned his head back to face where the rain poured down, the sound reverberating against the roof above. Brador sighed for a moment. 

“How did the business in Old Yharnam go?” Brador asked, “I assume it went well considering the place has been burnt to no more than ash”. 

Gehrman rubbed his eyes before replying. His old age was beginning to creep up behind him. 

“We did what was according to plan” Gehrman murmured back. “If Laurence and the rest of the ministers agreed this was the best procedure then I have no reason to complain, I’m sure you know that more than anyone else”.

Brador nodded back, keeping his focus towards the rain. Gehrman rolled his eyes for a moment towards the lack of interaction from the younger man next to him. He paused for a moment, before speaking again. 

“And where were you during the whole ordeal? I thought you would be first to follow orders for the Vicar” Gehrman asked, frowning mildly. Brador made no remark, simply grinning before he focused his attention back to the older hunter.

“Had to take care of some business up here” Brador answered, picking at the scar that marked his lower lip. Gehrman tapped his finger against the handle of his cane, the speed of which seemed antsy.

“Getting into bar fights does not constitute to ‘taking care of business’ from my point of view”

“What a riveting viewpoint” Brador countered back. “But I took care of business regarding a rat who ran his mouth off a bit too openly” 

The response made Gehrman perk up for a moment, unaware of anyone new who were spouting their distaste and opposition towards the Healing Church. Perhaps the title of rat was fitting, though Gehrman digressed. 

“And how did that go?”

There was a pause, as Brador seemingly swished something around his mouth, before producing a vindictive spit to the ground beneath him. A tint of red could vaguely be seen. 

“Didn’t go as smoothly as I normally would’ve anticipated” Brador murmured. “Ended up running half a mile amongst the rooftops”. Gehrman shifted, the end of his cane scraping quietly yet roughly against the ground as he moved.

“But did you take care of him?”

Brador scoffed.

“The idiot missed his footing whilst running, ended up going tumbling down” Brador announced. “Practically did the job for me, died like a proper bell-end”.

Gehrman clicked his tongue against his teeth, producing a sharp pitched ‘tch’. He exhaled quietly.

“Perhaps I have no reason to complain, if you got the job done anyways” Gehrman sighed, slumping slightly back. Brador made no response. There was a silence between the two, before Gehrman sat up, wincing as a silent crack emitted from his knee. He breathed in, before turning back once more to the assassin that slouched in front of him.

“After the events from last night I don’t doubt we’ll be getting a few more ‘opposing’ views from others who desire to pry into the business of the church” He stated formally, his view set upon Brador. “I am not the vicar, but perhaps you would listen to me when I advise you keep an extra eye out for the next remaining days”

No response, but Brador simply waved a hand in a motion of agreement. At least, that was what Gehrman assumed the assassin was implying. No matter, he couldn’t be bothered to figure it out now.

Gehrman tipped the rim of his hat in a responding motion of farewell, the familiar sound of his cane tapping and scraping against the stoned and cobbled pavement beneath him, leaving Brador alone once more to whatever thoughts were rampant amongst his mind. Gehrman had no interest in whatever it was, rather focusing on what would come next in the following days after the burning of Old Yharnam, a city now founded in ash.

There was a final silence in the air, almost as if for a moment, the rain suddenly stopped that day.

Chapter Text

Simon always had an air of solitude; it was just in his blood. 

He was used to it, and although he did not mind the occasional partnering up with another during times of the hunt, he often found himself exhausted by the end of it. That wasn’t to say that he dreaded the company of another, though time spent around others who had either nothing to say or too much to say towards the harrowed had otherwise proved faulty, to an extent. Until now.

It was getting dark, though not dark enough that it would be hard to see one's surroundings. It was foggy, the surroundings a thin hue of teal. Simon found himself staring face to face to an entrance. A tunnel. The sound of water trickling gently against stoned pavement, echoing louder deeper into the tunnel. Simon made no movement, not yet. He simply watched, eyes narrowing deep in thought. It was a moment before the sound of footsteps followed. Simon made no effort to turn backwards, waiting until the movement stopped before speaking briefly.

“Didn’t think I'd see you here so soon” Simon spoke, finally turning to face the figure before him. He smiled wearily. 

“How’d you know it was me?” Gratia asked, the sound of water sloshing against her boots. Even on days without the hunt it would appear the hunter always had that chunk of bulking iron gripped against her fist.

“Perhaps it’s just the insight” Simon said, before pausing for a moment. “I’m afraid the act of sneaking is not where your strength lies, my friend”

Gratia barked out a short laugh. “Don’t be a smartass”. Simon smiled, though he turned his attention back to the entrance of the people that stood before the two hunters. Gratia moved closer, standing next to him.

“And what’s got your attention in there?” The taller hunter inquired, occasionally squinting her eyes as she set her gaze into the ongoing void that elongated itself within the tunnel. The sound of water was still eminent. It took a moment of silence before Simon answered, his gaze still fixated upon the entrance to the aqueducts.

“There’s been something strange going on”

“How so?” Gratia asked. “Something strange happens everyday”

Simon turned his head, though his position remained still. “I’ve been noticing people around me contracting something,” he answered, before continuing. “They’ve been getting sick”.

Gratia’s eyes widened slightly. “Is it the ashen blood?”

“Not from what I've seen.” Simon said. “The symptoms don’t appear the same.” another pause, before he continues once more, a small grin on his face appears as quickly as it dissipates. “And I haven't been afflicted so far, which tells me all I need to know.” 

Gratia had her tongue against her cheek, but nodded. “Well, that’s one good thing I suppose.” she replied. “Though why haven’t you brought this up to the ministers? To Laurence ?”. Gratia could see Simon vaguely roll his eyes.

“Because.” He spoke. “I doubt the church would show much care to menial situations such as this one when not directly confronted by it amongst those in Central Yharnam”, the words occasionally whistling against his teeth as he spoke. He turned away for a moment. “My apologies.”

“No need to apologise to me” Gratia responded. “So alright, people around you are getting sick, but pray tell, what does this have to do with all this then?”

Simon clicked his fingers, pointing into the tunnel of the aqueducts. “My suspicions lie in there”. Gratia looked forwards, then back to Simon. “I think there’s something in the water that’s making people sick”. After doing so, Simon took a step forwards, looking back at the other hunter. “You care to join me?”. Gratia shrugged. “Got nowhere else to be,” she said. “Though remember the last time we ventured into one of these?”. Simon did remember. All too well. Though he had other things to worry about aside from one of many bad experiences when in the position of being a hunter of the plagued. Simon began to continue his motion of stepping forward, keeping his attention on both the hunter behind him and the echoing dreariness of the aqueduct's entrance. 

“That’s why it’s good you’re coming along, since you’re so good at saving my life” Simon replied, smirking. Gratia rolled her eyes and hung her head backwards, though there was no sign of malice or annoyance in her movements.

“Gods, I don't know who's sarcasm I prefer the most” She spoke back. “Yours or Lady Maria’s”. Gratia followed behind Simon, the two hunters disappearing into the bleak darkness.

The atmosphere was what was expected; Cold, dark and dreary, with the occasional rat found crawling and scattering within the cracks of cobbled walls and rusted pipes that gave the impression of breaking instantly to the touch. The smell was as to be expected, too. Simon was just thankful the appearance of sludge and filth was not present, though perhaps this was due to the entrance taken last time being further away from where he and Gratia were now presently. Simon had also been thankful that there appeared to be a few lights haphazardly placed within the walls, though dim they were. It at least meant there was a smaller chance of both Simon or Gratia potentially plunging down into the depths if not careful, though Simon didn’t keep his expectations low. It was Yharnam, after all.

It took some walking before the sudden pungent scent of blood filled Simon’s lungs, almost unbearably. He stopped, Gratia being careful as not to bump into the younger man infront of her. She waited, curious.

“What’s the matter?”

“You sense it?” Simon asked. “Blood.”

It took a moment, before Gratia perked up in a similar manner as to the harrowed hunter. “Human blood”, she added. Being a hunter for so long would prove to come in useful when identifying the stench of both animal and human gore. Simon narrowed his eyes, his posture becoming hunched as he was in thought; Meanwhile, Gratia looked around and back in the odd case they were being followed, by either beast or man. It did not matter which; Gratia felt the tension in her heart. After much silence, Simon walked forwards, before stopping shortly. He crouched down, inspecting the trickling and trailing water beneath him. Gratia tilted her head.

“What’d you see?”

A pause. Simon looked up at her.

“A trail” He responded, his eyes sharpening. “It follows over there” he pointed, deeper into the soaked and dreary tunnels. A thin line of crimson drifted lightly within the water, like woollen thread. He stood up, looked back once more to Gratia, before making his way, his air of caution seemingly removed as the darkness swallowed him whole. Gratia took one last look behind her, before following in pursuit of the harrowed hunter. Both hunters were not given the same amount of lights as before entering, meaning both figures had to traverse through means of care and the occasional pausing to squint one's eyes in the dark. Insight helped with most things, though nothing can overcome the strength of blinding darkness. Gratia leaned a hand against the walls, trailing gloved fingers against soaked stone. There were a few times where Simon almost disappeared into the darkness before reappearing once more, waiting silently. The trail of once diluted blood ran thick as the two hunters traversed, the scent of iron filling their lungs like smoke from a fire.

Before long, the trail stopped. A puddle of red spilling into the water from atop a smell step. A body.

Simon approached. Gratia followed. 

“A body,” Gratia said. She placed a hand against her temple. “Of course it had to be a body”

“As per usual” Simon replied back. His tone was bitter. “Looks like I found the answer to my question”

Simon stepped closer towards the body. It was a hunter, but at the moment Simon couldn’t identify who it was, their face shrouded by bloodsoaked and mangled hair. From the outside, one leg was bent back, broken from a fall. Simon looked up, greeted by the dark abyss from above. ‘ Poor sod fell to his death’ Simon thought to himself initially, though under closer inspection as he knelt down beside the body, he noticed an ichor of familiar crimson painted more prominently above the hunter’s chest, despite an even coating amongst the stomach and leg where the bone had been broken. Slowly, and with somewhat sheepish movement Simon attempted to peel away the covering that lay above the hunter’s neck. 

The mark of the knife, a precise line against the throat. The mark of a doctor or someone who had clinical expertise. Simon sighed against his teeth. Gratia looked at her surroundings, in the off chance of another ambushing the two church hunters. She turned to Simon, noticing his exasperation. She saw the slit mark that lay against the body’s throat.

“Check his eyes” She murmured. “Maybe we’ll get our answer”. Simon did just that, brushing aside mangled hair. He stopped, when the face was revealed. 

Simon knew this hunter. Recognised him. The hunter from all those months back at the entrance of the clinic. The rugged hunter that trailed behind the leader of his group.

Simon said nothing, though in his mind something ran wild. Perhaps it was rage? Or something else. Gratia furrowed her brow. She appeared concerned.

“You recognise this one, don’t you?” She asked. “One of ours?”

“No.” Simon answered back. “But I know Ludwig will recognise him”. After a pause, Simon lifted a hand towards the hunter’s face, forcing one eye open. A collapsed pupil, a common sight these days. Simon leaned back, taking a look at the body whole. The hunter’s attire towards the waist was caked in blood, perhaps from a gunshot wound. The strength of one quicksilver bullet alone would be enough to stagger a beast, and its damage was worse for even the strongest of hunters. Gratia was quiet, far quieter than usual, perhaps out of respect. The silence was broken when Simon stood back up, his gaze still upon the corpse beneath him.

“We need to move him” said Simon, “If we leave him here he’s going to continue getting people sick” 

“And then what?” Gratia asked. “We can’t leave him here, and we certainly can’t avoid notifying Ludwig and the ministers about this”. Simon clicked his tongue against his teeth, but he answered back. 

“That’s why I’ll need help carrying him back” he replied, “we’re a long way down, I don’t expect either one of us to be able to carry him by ourselves.”

“Makes sense to me” 

“Then help me” 

Gratia thumbled for a spare pocket to place her iron fist, moving towards the hunter’s corpse. “You take that side” Simon said, crouching down, placing his hands against soaked leather boots. Gratia followed the instructions of the harrowed hunter, grabbing ahold of the corpse’s shoulders. “On the count of three”. 

Simon wondered, for just a moment, what he would say to Ludwig. What he would say to the leader of that hunting group from so long ago; if he could even find him, that is.

Simon focused his attention upon the hunter’s body, wondering what his last moments were, if he even had the ability to realise what was going on in his beast-inflicted mind. That was something Simon couldn’t help but ponder on with every hunter and citizen whom he came across nowadays when he was ordered to take them out.

“Ready?”

Three, two, one.

With swift (albeit shaky) motion, the two hunters managed to haul the body upwards, blood trickling gently into the water. Simon struggled slightly, the hunter’s body being taller and heavier than him, though the contribution from Gratia helped greatly.

“Alright, now with my movement” Simon commanded, Gratia giving a nod of her head in way of understanding. 

But something felt off, like a small light quivering in Simon’s mind. The two hunters moved slowly and steadily in a sideways motion, with Gratia scanning the dark to find the tunnel that they had entered from.

‘The Hunter’s stomach’ Simon thought; that was where the most amount of blood aside from the slitted throat was found. Had that part been slitted too? 

Simon found himself getting tugged as Gratia made an awkward attempt to redirect their position, and the sound of something wet and bodily could be heard. 

The Stomach .

Gratia tugged a little too strongly this time. Her strength was prone to doing this. Simon’s eyes widened.

“Wait, Stop !” 

A squelch. At that moment, the hunter split in two, the water beneath Simon and Gratia pooling with red and other gore. Gratia swore loudly, her voice echoing against the walls of the tunnel. The bottom half of the hunter dropped in a panic as Simon suddenly found himself leaning against the wall, heaving. He was used to gore, as any hunter had been; he had practically been raised around it in all his years living in Yharnam. Yet, the sight of the rugged hunter’s body split in two made Simon’s mind swirl and his stomach churn. Gratia still held onto the shoulders of the hunter, though she looked with concern towards the younger man. 

“Well, looks like we won’t be moving him” she said simply, dropping the other half of the hunter onto the watered ground beneath her. Simon said nothing, the shivers of disgust were crawling up his spine. Gratia looked down at the corpse, as did Simon cast his glance. He looked at the hunter’s face, the one collapsed eye still open, pearly white and bloodshot. It felt like it was staring back at him. Simon felt his stomach twist and turn, and before he could stop himself, Simon expelled his disgust. Gratia winced.

Disgust. Or maybe it was guilt. Simon didn’t know which.

The night was dark now, and the familiar teal and fog of the early evening no longer remained. Simon stared silently, the cold stone and air burning against Simon as he sat. By now the entrance to the aqueducts was pitch black, and anyone would be a fool to enter now. 

Footsteps could be heard. Gratia’s. Both hunters spoke no words, simply staring into the abyss that they had entered and returned from. Gratia’s hunter garb was still stained with congealed blood, and Simon’s throat still burned. Gratia folded her arms to her chest. 

“I’ll tell Ludwig what happened” she started, pausing, before continuing. “I’m sorry that this went wrong”. Simon chuckled, but there was no hint of humour within it. It sounded more like a hum of acknowledgement, but Gratia did not expect more than that. Gratia placed a hand against the shoulder of the younger man. She moved with awkward motion, but Simon didn’t mind. he just sighed.

“Let us just be thankful that it was not another ashen blood incident, after all” said Simon simply. Gratia nodded. She looked up at the sky, then back towards the darkening tunnels. The sound of moving water filled the air.

“Maybe keep away from drinking water for a while,” Gratia remarked.

Chapter Text

The price of discovery does not often go without casualties.

That was something Lady Maria had grown to know throughout weeks and months that went by within the Research Hall, and she had braced herself for it, like she did with most things nowadays from the reality of the hunt. Doctors came by and went, and so did certain patients. So far four patients did not survive, with one dying only two weeks after her treatment had started, with another following behind her not long afterwards.

Maria mourned their loss, but she did not let it take over her. There were still other patients who needed her support. There was still one patient who needed her support.

“Do you hear it? That trickling sound?”

It was late, and frosted and snowed wind whistled and blew against harsh and cracked walls. Maria perked up for a moment, previously silent as she listened to the blood saint before her. By now she was completely blind, her head adorned in sullied bandages that failed to cover up bloodied scabs that lay on her head. Her hands were bound to her chair, one arm bruised to the bone from her treatment. Her fingers were stiff from an arthritis that had begun to develop from months of treatment; but she did not seem to mind. Maria rubbed at her eye before answering.

“I’m afraid I do not” Maria replied, leaning an arm against the handle of her chair. There was a quiet tiredness in her eyes, but she paid no heed to it. Her attention was still fixed on Adeline. Her fingers twitched slightly. 

“Oh” the saint said, “that is a shame then”. Maria could not see her face anymore, but by the way the saint spoke it sounded as though she were smiling; that was one thing that relieved the hunter.

“My apologies”

“Do not apologise my lady” Adeline responded. She stopped for a second. Maria said nothing.

“Lady Maria?”

Maria straightened herself. “Yes?” 

There was a short silence. It took a moment for Adeline to speak, and all the while Maria waited. She had learned patience from the hunt, and here she would keep it. A pause. Adeline spoke.

“Do you ever wish to be something greater than yourself?” Adeline inquired. Maria tilted her head, leaning forwards against her seat.

“And what do you mean by that?”

Adeline giggled suddenly, before returning back to a state of silence. Maria noticed her head twitched. “I mean to ascend from previous nothingness” Adeline added, “To be more than what you are”. The saint giggled again. Maria furrowed her brow, but she nodded slowly.  It took a minute for her to think, all the while Adeline’s head twitched more and more. A side effect from her treatment no doubt. Maria subdued her concern, though she felt her fist ball up weakly.

“Don't we all wish to be greater than what we are?” Maria finally responded. She paused, then spoke again. “To be greater than you already are is to finally ascend”. The saint said nothing, but Maria felt as though she understood her words. Adeline’s fingers twitched against her bonds, but she responded simply. “I see then.” her words sounded solemn in tone, and Maria almost worried that her answer had stepped against something deeper. The silence was disrupted when a squelch filled the air. The saint giggled once more.

“Ah, that sound,” she said. “Such a fleeting thing”. Maria nodded, resting her head against the dorsal sides of her hands and she listened, silent. The head of the saint that sat before her twitched and shuddered. “I can hear it. The ocean calls to me” 

Nothing was said and nothing could be seen, but Maria continued to nod, producing a low ‘hm’ of understanding. “Do you hear anything else?” she asked. Adeline drummed her fingers stiffly against the cold wood of her chair. “I hear a voice, a comforting one. That dripping sound, like the waves” she spoke. Maria said nothing. Her eyes looked towards the saint’s bruised arm, the IV flowing, connected. Lady Maria was not easily disturbed, though there were times that Maria could not help but feel a flinching feeling whenever she looked at it. Maria cleared her throat.

“If it brings you comfort, then that is good” Maria murmured, as Adeline’s head twitched once more. “If you believe this will lead to ascension and becoming greater than you are, then I see no reason to harbour disdain,” she added. Adeline made no response, and the squelching that emitted from her head was put to a halt. Maria waited. She had the patience to wait. The only sound that remained was the occasional sound of a window rattling from outside due to the wind, or the occasional chatter from doctors and patients alike from within the hallways. Adeline stopped drumming her fingers against her chair, lifting her head, almost as if she were looking directly at the hunter that sat across from her. She spoke, quietly and almost silently, but there was a fondness in her voice.

“Thank you, Kos”

Chapter Text

“The night draws long”

The moon hung high with a lack of stars, like an unveiled ocean. The sound of a cane tapping against the ground followed. Laurence paid no heed, his attention still fixated upon the black sky.

“Something on your mind?” Gehrman inquired as he approached slyly, though somewhat keeping a distance from the Vicar. Laurence did not face the older hunter, but produced a low hum in response, his arms folded formally behind his back as he watched.

“Perhaps, though I see no use in speaking much of it now” Laurence replied quietly, turning to focus his attention on Gehrman. He was in his usual formal attire, though some parts appeared more worn and torn down. An expected appearance for any hunter. Gehrman leaned against his cane, briefly looking up at the sky in a similar manner to the Vicar.

“Fair enough” 

Laurence turned towards Gehrman, hands still folded behind his back. “What news do you have for me, old friend?” 

The sound of stone scraping was heard as Gehrman repositioned himself, standing straight, his tall figure towering over the Vicar, though not in a sense of threat but rather mutual respect.

“The fires amongst Old Yharnam look to be closing to an end, thankfully” Gehrman stated. “And it would also appear your little assassin has taken care of another ‘ snitch ’ ”

Snitch . Was that the right word? Laurence didn’t think much about it. The church always had its detractors, and Brador simply took care of them when they got out of hand. There was a small pause before the Vicar responded.

“I would assume he did what needed to be done” 

Gehrman pursed his lips into a thin line as a primary response, before speaking once more.

“If you could call it that,” Gehrman said. “Sometimes I feel he is more like the cattle dog that would not stop until all that remains of the wolf are meagre bones and shreds” 

Laurence hummed in a way that for a moment could be interpreted as a small laugh. “He has his way of doing things, I’m aware,” said the Vicar. “You speak of him as if he were a rabid dog”

“Is there a difference?”

Another pause. Laurence looks up at the moon for a moment, the white circular silhouette reflecting in his eyes.

“I trust that he can get the job done in the end,” Laurence murmured. “And that is enough”. Gehrman said nothing, though it appeared he nodded his head. “Perhaps” he replied back, the end of his cane still occasionally scraping and tapping against cold stone. Gehrman sighed quietly, almost as if the wind shook and rattled against his lungs. Laurence peered over to him. 

“Are you alright?”

Gehrman made no response, not even a shrug. Though when Laurence furrowed his brow he spoke briefly.

“If I am to be honest-”. A small pause, until he continued. “I’m not all too sure”. His fingers tapped an offbeat rhythm against the handle of his cane. “A city has just been burnt to ash, and I fear there are others that are beginning to slip away”. Was this irritation or anxiety? Laurence did not know, but didn’t seem to pay it much mind as he simply listened, nodding silently. 

“I understand the sentiment, it’s been a strange set of events as of recent” the Vicar replied. His tone appeared warm, but still had the mixture of clinical coldness that would not appear comforting at first to any stranger. “Though I think it would be best if we keep moving forward, lest the madness of beasts alike spread” 

Gehrman bit the inside of his cheek, though he made no response of opposition to the Vicar’s words. 

“As you wish then, old friend.”

The brightness of the moon that hung above them could not be overstated, and there was a time that Gehrman wished that, for just a moment, the brightness would fade into black. 

A cough breaks the silence of a barren room. The room was cold, but Caryll showed no care for this. With one free hand she cleared a dust-cloaked table and dropped a small pile of notes and books with a soft ‘thwump’. The books themselves appeared crumpled and worn, their yellowed and bitten pages filled with scribbled notes of runes and other unworldly shapes. 

Caryll opens one, greeted briefly with dust. She coughed once more, ignoring it as she traced a finger against smudged and inked words. Her tired eyes go back and forth as she studies her own text, yet she couldn’t stop coughing. She keeped on reading, a faint candle light illuminating her from the side. Cold and worn statues that litter the room keep her company.

She focused her attention on only the crumpled and frantic notes beneath her, her eyes darting back and forth quickly, paying no heed to the cough that rattles through her lungs. She couldn't care anymore. She picked up a spare note, and read through it.

LOOK UP; THE PATH WILL OPEN  

Caryll seemingly scoffed at the piece of writing, but somewhere she made a mental note of it anyways. Carefully she slid the note into a spare page as she continued on, scribbling her thoughts down in a rush. Absorbed in thought, it only takes a moment before Caryll noticed the sound of an old wooden door opening. It shuts gently.

A tall man entered, calm brown eyes looking down upon her, but not with malice. It's a look of quiet concern. Caryll says nothing, her attention still fixated upon her notes and books, though she nods. The man, Ludwig, stands near her. 

“Thought i’d find you here” He spoke, continuing to look upon the tall women that sat silently in front of him. He crosses his arms, almost as if he were cold, but Caryll feels nothing. 

She coughed. It rattled painfully against her throat.

“I’m always here” Caryll finally responded plainly, turning a messily yellowed page as she read. “My work is needed”.

Ludwig furrowed his brow in thought. Caryll for a moment turned her focus onto the Holy Blade.

“Has something happened?” the runesmith inquired, her tone monotone, though a hue of annoyance tinted it. Caryll coughs again, sounding much harsher. 

“You do not sound well,” Ludwig said.

“I’m very well, good hunter of the church,” Caryll replied. She covers her mouth as she coughs, and for a moment as she wipes against her sleeve she notices something peculiar. Something red.

Caryll paid no heed, absentmindedly continuing her reading, occasionally grabbing a cracked pencil to jot something down; Ludwig finally notices the red smudged against her sleeve. His eyes widened slightly. 

“ Caryll” 

It doesn’t take long before Ludwig’s words were answered with a sharp thud against wood as Caryll slams two pale hands against the table beneath her. Ludwig appeared taken aback even in his known bravery. Caryll straightens herself, a shrill squeak of her chair permeates the air, the candle’s fire flickering. She hunched over as quickly as she stood up. Ludwig reaches a concerned hand towards her, but she raises her own in a ‘halt’ motion.

She coughed longer for a moment, but finally she spoke;

“I don’t have much time left, Ludwig”

Ludwig furrowed his brows as Caryll slumped back into her chair, almost as if the energy that she used to get up dissipated. “What do you mean?”

Caryll pinched the bridge of her nose, frowning harshly. “It means what you think it means, you fool ” Caryll snapped. She clenched her fist, but after a moment looked back at the Holy Blade. There was a tired sadness in her eyes. “My apologies. I don’t know what came over me”

“It’s fine” The Holy Blade responded back gently. He sits down in front of the runesmith. “Is Laurence or the ministers aware of this?”

“No but I wouldn’t put it past him to have already started suspecting so” Caryll answered, fiddling with the drawstrings that hung loosely against her attire. “Just look at me” 

Ludwig said nothing, though Caryll could tell the hunter in front of her was lost in momentary thought. Then he spoke. “How long have you been having these symptoms for?”

Caryll was silent for a moment, though Ludwig faintly heard her murmur something under her breath. Ludwig straightened himself and gave a look that he would often flash to those amongst his churchmen who did not hold the utmost honesty. Caryll rolled her eyes, but she replied.

“About two weeks or so”

Ludwig said nothing, his mouth twisting into a thin line.

“Surely receiving some sort of treatment can help-”

“There’s no treating this” Caryll answered back as quickly as Ludwig spoke. “As far as the healing blood goes I’m already done for, Ludwig.”

Ludwig tried to speak, but stopped himself. Caryll simply sighed, leaning forwards. 

“I need to tell you something,” she said. Ludwig listened. The runesmith coughed, briefly looking around the two’s surroundings, before continuing.

“There’s something on the Cathedral Ward.”

Ludwig squinted. “The Cathedral Ward?” he inquired. Caryll leaned in closer, continuing to eye around her and Ludwig’s surroundings. 

“I don’t know how long it’s been there,” Caryll answered back. “But I know it’s not the first”. The Holy Blade said nothing, whether it be from puzzlement or thought Caryll couldn’t tell nor could care for the moment. “Whatever the case, there’s just something about it; I can’t tell what, but-”

A momentary pause as Caryll leaned back, her hand cluttering the few notes and books that lay against the table before pulling out the note from earlier. “All I know is this”

Ludwig peered over, taking in what was written down.

“This is what I heard,” Caryll stated. “ It spoke to me”

Silence. Ludwig took the note from Caryll, inspecting it further. “Was that all?”

“As far as I’m aware, yes” 

“Does Laurence know?”

Caryll sighed, rubbing her brow. She looked tired. Ludwig paused for a moment, occasionally looking back at the small note and what was scribbled down.

“No,” Caryll responded. “At least, not yet”. She leaned back and went quiet. Ludwig worried for a moment. “It hasn’t done anything, but I feel as though it’s calling to me”. Ludwig bit his lip, thinking. Caryll turned away, the light from a candle beginning to fade away slowly. “I don’t know how much more time I have,” Caryll echoed. 

“Caryll please -” 

“Listen to me,” Caryll interrupted, sharp eyes looking back towards the Holy Blade. Had she been born a hunter perhaps that gaze would strike fear into the hearts of men and beasts alike. She breathed in shakily, but continued. “If I die before this, I want you to tell him; He trusts your word the most compared to mine nowadays”.

Ludwig turned away for a moment. Caryll watched. 

“Promise me this.”

Silence enveloped the room surrounding them. Ludwig clenched his fists, but he spoke.

“Alright” Ludwig answered. “I promise”

Chapter Text

There was a peculiar chill in the air; strange yet not unknown to Yharnam. Simon felt a certain stiffness in his bones that day, though perhaps he still wasn’t used to Yharnam’s coldness even after all these years. It was quiet, a bit too quiet for what Simon was normally used to, but perhaps there was a reason for this silence. Almost a month had passed since the burning of Old Yharnam and although the frequency of the hunt seemed to slow down significantly afterwards, Simon still sensed a certain sickness in the air; a familiar one that he had come to know as a hunter of the beast-scourged. That peculiar beastly madness still dug it’s claws into the city and spread to those less fortunate enough to grow immune to it’s poison. It filled the harrowed hunter’s lungs as he breathed in the air, but Simon was no fool to it’s temptation. He was after someone.

A trail was left behind in it’s wake. Deep red imprinted onto iced and thin layered snow that crunched under the harrowed hunter’s boots. Simon followed it with both diligence and caution, aware of how quick to violence those inflicted could become when met with the threat of a hunter. Most times Simon was able to handle this sort of hastiness in the cases that ranged combat was unavailable, though today was different. The person Simon had been following after managed to slip away into the shadows before the harrowed hunter could get a better shot, leading to Simon following the steps left behind; like how a scavenger would follow the prints left behind from a hunt. Following this, Simon the previous hunt before had been met with a particularly nasty clawed swipe from a beast huntsman that dug near his ribs which despite being treated, still stung whenever the hunter stretched too far. A sorry state for any archer no doubt, but Simon prevailed no less. A quiet wind whistled in the air, leaving the hunter with his thoughts.

It had been a while since Simon kept a close inspection amongst the inner workings of the church, partly due to the situation regarding Old Yharnam as well as a few of his own personal situations. Though there were a few things that were beginning to slip through the cracks. Simon noticed them all too well compared to others who worked amongst the church and their ilk. It was hard for him to describe how it made him feel; simply that it seemed as though his chest burnt and swirled more often as he was left to his own isolation. Yet he said nothing about it. He did not want to attract more attention to himself than he already had these past couple of months. 

It was slowly beginning to snow as Simon continued his search. The hunter scoffed, pulling his hood up to cover his head as he quickly hastened the speed in which he followed. More snow meant that the trail would be lost. Simon was already falling behind and he wasn’t going to have to deal with the consequences of letting the signs of the scourge go unnoticed, lest some poor sop find out themselves. As winter came, so did the speed in which the daylight faded into black darkness. 

As the soft white outlines of snow continued to float down Simon followed the trail of prints that were embedded beneath him, soon leading to the edge that led to an isolated alleyway. Not exactly an ideal place to fight if the situation would lead to that, but Simon had no time to ponder on this. He was still alive after so many hunts. If he played his cards right then he would live to see another day.

The trail’s clearness increased, and so did it’s irrationality, leading into the darkness of an old and dilapidated building that had long since been lived in. Not an uncommon sight in Yharnam these days, especially with the rate of deaths throughout the night of the hunts, but Simon digressed. As he entered Simon was met with a foul scent of death that made itself known. Simon paused and exhaled. He wasn’t about to lose himself now. The harrowed hunter squinted in the darkness as his sight adjusted. Beneath him lay a puddle of blood that seemingly soaked into the floorboards, as if some scuffle had occurred whilst Simon followed the trail previously. Simon looked around, noticing the thick trail of red that led on. Simon followed. The trail led towards a staircase that creaked and groaned as Simon put his weight onto the first step. He looked back behind him before ascending up, the sound of old wood creaking sharply.  As he ascended Simon slowed his steps, hearing something from the corner that increased in volume as he crept closer. The harrowed hunter took a deep breath, unsheathing and transforming his bowblade with quiet haste. For a moment Simon thought he heard someone muttering to themselves quietly, along with the sound of glass clinking together. 

‘How curious’ Simon thought to himself. Last time he checked the beast scourged did not go to rob houses. The wound that lay against his side began to sting, but Simon did his best to ignore it; he would treat it later when the threat would be over. 

As Simon crept closer the sounds increased in volume. Then they stopped. Someone else could be heard briefly. Simon sprinted up and turned towards the corner, his bowblade in hand and ready to aim. But there was no need. 

The corpse of what was followed lay in front of Simon, mangled and torn by force. The stench of blood filled the air and Simon’s lungs. Another figure stood above the fallen victim, dark and dull eyes watching the harrowed hunter. 

Brador tilted his head, dark eyes narrowing as he grinned slyly. “Well, what a coincidence seeing you here” he said.

Simon furrowed his brow. “You again?” 

Brador leaned back for a moment, placing a foot down against the corpse that lay beneath him as with quick force he undug the remains of his bloodletter out from it. A jet of blood splattered against the floorboards and wall. Brador turned himself to face Simon properly, wincing. His posture was strange this time, with one side of his body from his left shoulder seemingly slumped downwards. His eyes briefly darted from the corpse before looking back at the hunter before him. 

“I’m guessing you were going to be the one to do this originally” He breathed out, almost as if the words squeezed against his lungs. “Sorry for stealing that from you”. Simon’s brow was still furrowed, though he made no response. Brador smiled, leaning against the handle of his bloodletter.

“Awfully silent as usual I see” 

Simon scoffed, his bowblade still gripped against his side. He sighed. “I don’t have time for this”. Brador still smiled as he watched Simon. “I see you’ve still got that bow with you even after all this time” Brador said. “I guess it’s taken you far”. 

Simon turned to Brador. “Perhaps I could say the same thing for that stick you carry around”. Brador barked out a laugh, briefly lifting a hand in the air in fake supplication. “Perhaps you have me there”. He winced again. Simon raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the matter?” Simon inquired. “Your movements are strange” 

Brador placed a hand towards his limp shoulder. He looked upon it briefly, almost uninterested. 

“Dunno. Got it snagged a bit out in the hunt” he said. “I took the blood but I guess it didn’t do much for me” 

Simon tilted his head. “That must explain the rummaging I heard earlier” 

“Vials have been a bit scarce lately,” Brador replied. “I’m sure you would understand.” 

There was a pause as Simon thought to himself for a moment, before hiding the bowblade that lay at his side into it’s bladed form. With gentle force he placed it between cracks of the floorboards as he approached the church assassin. Brador said nothing, though with sheepish motion he extended an arm. Simon approached with caution.There was a pause, before the harrowed hunter spoke up. 

“I can see why,” he said, placing a hand on the other man’s slumped shoulder. “You’ve dislocated it”

“That explains it,” Brador responded coolly. Simon had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Simon then straightened himself, directing his attention to the church’s assassin. 

“I’ll need you to lay down somewhere for this,” Simon said.

Brador quirked an eyebrow. “At least buy me a drink first”

“ Be quiet ” 

It took a moment before the church assassin followed the other hunter’s instructions, resting up against one of the nearest tables that surrounded the two. The smell of iron still filled the room, but Simon knew better than to act discomforted about it in front of a fellow church member. Simon approached, mimicking his movements from earlier as he placed two hands against Brador’s shoulder and arm.

“This is going to hurt,” Simon warned. Brador made no motion, but he replied back. 

“Give it your best shot then” 

The moment of silence that ensued was eventually interrupted as the sound of a bodily crack filled the room. Brador produced a sharp inhale, sucking air through his teeth, but soon after sat back up. The church assassin rolled his mended shoulder in a circular motion, grinning. 

“‘Suppose I should thank you,' he said, looking over towards Simon. The harrowed hunter just hummed in response. He crept towards the corpse that lay against the floorboards. The blood was already beginning to dry and seep into the floorboards; a hassle to wash out if anyone were still living in this house. Simon said nothing as he watched. Those inflicted with the scourge were sometimes rumoured to rise back from the sleep of death, though Simon had no reason to believe this would happen here. The spikes from Brador’s weapon were still embedded within the limbs of the figure. Simon sighed to himself. At least that business was taken care of, albeit in a messier fashion than Simon initially had hoped for.

“I’m assuming he became fully consumed from the bloodlust by the time I arrived” Simon stated. “Unless you just felt like hitting something with that weapon of yours and he was the nearest target”. Brador grinned.

“What a strange way to say thank you” He quipped back. “I was already here for other reasons like you, but I guess I got distracted.” 

“‘Distracted’? ” Simon repeated. 

“Wouldn’t you want to deal with a minor issue first, rather than wait for it to become a bigger problem?” Brador answered back. “You’re a perceptive man, I’m sure you understand” 

Simon said nothing, but that was enough for Brador. The other hunter got up, still occasionally motioning his shoulder in the off chance it was to have clicked itself out of place just by lack of movement. “Well, I’m not sure about you, but I find it rather boring to stay standing in the same place,” Brador said, reaching for his weapon. Simon tenced, but was thankful that the other man did not notice this. With his weapon resting casually and haphazardly against his good shoulder, Brador waved a hand in the air.

“Normally I would say it’s been a pleasure” the church hunter stated. “Though perhaps I should say otherwise.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Whatever it should be to you” 

Brador smiled, showing his teeth. “As solemn as ever” he remarked, “Fitting for a hunter of the plagued”. As he walked, approaching the other man, he placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder. Simon cringed, but his eyes looked back at Brador’s.

Simon’s nose wrinkled. “Never thought of you as a man with much poeticism” he remarked. As he spoke, Simon waved his shoulder around, causing Brador’s hand to slip away, before turning away from the opposite direction of the other man. 

“Well I appreciate you commenting on my efforts, no less” The other man replied, still smiling wolfishly. “No wonder the Holy Blade favours you so”

Simon stopped, turning to face the church’s assassin. His eyes narrowed as he spoke. “What’s that supposed to mean?”. Brador leaned back, grinning. 

“It could mean whatever you wish it to be” 

“ Don’t give me that” Simon answered back. “Unless fighting that beast also knocked your head in the process”. His voice whistled against his teeth as he spoke. But Brador remained motionless. Still smiling. Simon often could be remarked as a somewhat patient man, but as of now an irritation rattled within him. His fists clenched, but Brador just watched. 

“Didn’t realise you were this easy to rattle” Brador scoffed casually. 

“And perhaps I never realised that you were this irritating to someone that could’ve let you stay with a bad shoulder” Simon replied sharply. “Just a thought” 

Nothing. Brador just laughed. Simon’s mouth went into a thin line, but he said nothing. Better to say nothing at all then to further entertain the other man’s pontificating. After a moment Simon just walked away. He wouldn’t bother to provoke Brador now, not today at least. Whilst Simon walked away, he thought he heard the church assassin say something. 

“I’ll be sure to repay this favour to you someday” 

Simon just rolled his eyes as he quickened his pace, leaving Brador alone to himself once more. As he exited he was once more greeted by the cold chill in the air. The sky had already begun to change towards a deep pitch black, though the white outlines of snow still fell softly. His eyes watched them for a moment, feeling almost serene despite the previous encounter. As the moments passed, Simon looked back, before heading off back into the pitch blackness of the night. Away from prying eyes. 

Chapter Text

The usual dark outline of Yharnam stood tall against the grey dreariness of the winter sky. The smoke and ash of Old Yharnam had long since dissipated, though the view of the tattered remains of the old city remained when seen from above. Most citizens went about their day, as if it were all some bad dream. Though there was still the occasional figure who would speak out about the event, however short lived they were.

Maria didn’t pay much mind to the view of Old Yharnam. She didn’t need to. There was a sense of distance that she felt towards it, like most things nowadays. The cold iciness of the iron bars that halted the drop from Yharnam to the burnt city dug into the leather of her sleeves and gloves, but Maria seemed not to notice this feeling. She was waiting for someone. The hunter sighed quietly, looking up towards the drizzled-grey sky. It reminded her of somewhere she knew from a long time ago, but those were memories that Maria kept to herself and only herself. In times like these it was useless to think back on such menial things. 

Some time passed until Maria heard familiar footsteps behind her. She made no effort to turn around. Instead she spoke.

“Took you long enough,” The hunter said. The sound of a hushed scoff answered her. Maria turned around to face her mentor. He looked to be in rough condition, though Maria could not judge him for this considering the events that took place recently, added with the stresses of the hunt that would make most hunter’s appearances rugged to say the least. Nonetheless Gehrman walked towards her. His hair was beginning to grey, and the shine of silver shone dimly from beneath his leg as the brace clamped against it, the hinges of which sometimes let out a rough squeak, though neither Maria or any other hunter of that matter paid it much mind. 

“Had some business to take care of with the Holy Blade” The old man answered back, resting his large scythe behind his back. There were times where Maria couldn’t help but notice the similarities between the older hunter and the illustrated depictions of death that she would see from time to time in the newspaper or the other few remaining posters that hadn't been ripped off during or after the hunt, but she brushed it off as per usual. “Did you get things sorted out then?” Maria asked, standing straight, no longer lounging silently against the iron bars of the fence behind her. Gehrman sucked in the air through his teeth quietly. Maria’s ears pricked at the sound. She said nothing, patiently waiting for the older hunter that stood before her to speak. The sound of a metallic squeak briefly interrupted the cold silence, but Gehrman cleared his throat and spoke once more.

“For now, but I feel there’s more to discuss later on” The older hunter replied. Maria hummed in response, straightening herself as she moved further away from the cold iciness of the iron bars. Her rakuyo hung against her hip, nestled inside comfortably in its scabbard. Away from prying eyes. “Another death?” Maria said. There was no solemn hint to her voice, but this was not out of malice, but rather a level of stoicism that had been developed as the years went by. Gehrman made no response. Maria decided to leave it at that. She looked up to the sky one more time, instead focusing her attention on the dark outline of the chapel. There was a slight eeriness to it that Maria started to notice as of recently, but she couldn’t explain the feeling. She remembered seeing Ludwig look towards it a few times before quickly moving his attention to something else, as if he preferred not to pay any more attention towards it. Was it dread? Or something else? Maria hadn't figured that out yet. Nonetheless it left a feeling of suspicion that bubbled ever so mildly in her chest whenever she spoke to the Holy Blade, but she tried not to let it interfere with her interactions with those closer amongst the church. Maria had also made a small note of Laurence's recent distance in the back of her mind, but she merely chalked it up to the recent situation that had been notified in regards to the runesmith. 

Maria’s attention snapped back to the other hunter who stood before her. “And we’re doing what, exactly?” Maria spoke. Idly, the hunter kicked a few loose pebbles that had previously cracked and slipped away from the withered and worn cobblestone ground. Gehrman cleared his throat.

“Performing the duty of the hunter’s helper” Gehrman stated plainly. “Laurence’s words, not mine”. If she could, Maria would’ve laughed at the remark, but a layer of distance that shielded the hunter prevented it. “I see then” 

Gehrman sighed, his grip tightening against the handle of his blade, the sound of leather creasing. Maria folded her arms together.  

“And your input?” 

Gehrman tapped a heel against the pavement briefly, before answering. “Not much if I'm to be honest”. He repositioned his hat. “At least, I’m not aware if I have much input at the moment”. Maria just nodded. Gehrman frowned, but he didn't seem to be upset at the lack of feedback. 

“Perhaps we should start focusing on the task at hand then” Maria intervened, sensing a tension rising. Gehrman just nodded. “You’re right” 

Maria stepped to the side, as if making way for the older hunter. “After you then”

The stench of iron and blood was already prominent as the two hunters traversed inside. Gehrman narrowed his eyes in the dark as the two hunters crept further, a trail of blood and sanguine left behind in whatever’s wake. The sound of old and blood-sodden wood creaked against each footstep as Maria and Gehrman entered through the doorway. For a moment Maria almost felt her eyes watering over the smell, but she prevailed nonetheless. She was a hunter after all, and was used to whatever stench attempted to cloud up her senses. Maria watched as Gehrman knelt down. The clawed and teared remains of something lay in front of him.

“One of ours?” Maria inquired. Her voice was layered montonely; a force of habit over the years from the hunt. Gehrman reached a hand forward in an attempt to see any further details of the corpse. He was met with a petrified face, clouded eyes still wide with fear. “Doesn’t seem to be,” Gehrman responded. “Poor bastard.” Maria produced a hum in response. She looked around in the dark, as if something were to make itself known at a moment of vulnerability. Only the light from outside shone through the cracks of unsealed windows and the front door. Maria crept closer towards the two figures, being careful where she stepped as the few remaining hints of fresh blood soaked the floor. The smell of iron grew stronger as she approached.

The body wasn’t anything remarkable. Just another ordinary person who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maria found herself frowning. Gehrman tilted his head up, looking towards the younger hunter.

“Go take a look out back,” Gehrman said. “I don’t want to take any chances if we’re not the only two things breathing around here”. It wasn't uncommon for certain beasts to remain hidden from the sight of hunters even after the hunt.

Maria said nothing, but with a quick nod and swift motion she left the corner from which she stood. 

“Just keep an eye on the door whilst I’m away then” Maria said, turning her head around shortly. Gehrman merely waved a hand. Maria walked on, leaving Gehrman alone momentarily with nothing but the sounds of wood creaking and a dead man on the floor. 

There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Just the usual quaint and neatly kept (until now) rooms of a house. Occasionally some things of interest popped up, such as a stash of blood vials that were neatly tucked away in one of the cupboards. But Maria didn’t pay much attention to it, simply keeping a mental note of it in the off chance it was needed. She wasn’t interested in acting like a scavenger; She was already stocked up plenty with them just in case things would somehow turn sour. 

Maria squinted in the dark, giving a silent thanks that it was still daylight outside, making the house just barely a light away from being completely pitch black. The less dark it was the less vulnerable a lone hunter would be. Maria crept forward quietly throughout, just in the off chance that something was to be in the same room as her. Years of the hunt had taught her well in regards to keeping her presence unknown.

As Maria traversed she suddenly took note of a sound. A strange sound, not one from a large or nimble beast. For a moment Maria could've sworn she heard the sound of something fluttering rapidly. The hunter furrowed her brow. A group of carrion crows must've landed somewhere nearby; dealing with them would be a small annoyance. The sounds of wood creaked and groaned as she stepped closer. The sounds of flapping continued. A group of crows was one thing, but one that were highly agitated was another. Maria continued her approach, inhaling quietly as if in a moment of preparation. As she crept closer, looking towards her surroundings, there was an old door. Chipped and worn from age. There was a faint light coming out from beneath the door itself, meaning that the odd sounds of fluttering came from outside. The sounds grew quieter. The hunter slowly and carefully pulled out her rakuyo from beneath its scabbard. The silver of the blade glinting playfully. A moment of silence passed. Maria swung the door open. 

A flurry of feathered fluttering and flapping filled the room in sound. Maria for the first time in her years as a hunter let out a noise of quiet yet sudden surprise. But there was no fear of death or danger here. Maria squinted as she slowly adjusted to the sudden brightness of daylight once more amongst the balcony, her pupils constricting with a stinging feeling. Maria found herself surrounded not by the presence of the familiar sight of the hulking carrion crows found all amongst Yharnam, but rather a flock of what seemed to be regular birds encased in cages, left untouched by the plague. 

Maria felt the tension leave as she hid her rakuyo once more. A regular hunter would have been left dumbfounded at the revelation of no beast, but Maria found herself thankful that there was less of a mess to clean up in the end. The air was cold, as to be expected when spending time in the house for so long. But Maria didn’t feel bothered by it. The sounds of cramped fluttering and coos filled her surroundings. Maria approached one cage. The birds paid her no attention nor fear, only occasionally tilting their little heads to the side in mild curiosity as the tall figure loomed over them. ‘Seems as though they don’t sense me as a threat’ Maria must’ve thought to herself, absentmindedly poking a gloved finger through the gaps in the cage. One bird pecked at it lightly, the thick leather of the hunter's glove shielding her from the pinching feeling. For just a moment, Maria found herself smiling subtly, if only for a short while. 

Maria looked around, the greyness of the sky starting to darken with clouds from overhead. Another layer of snow was to be expected to arrive soon, though from here it would take a while to reach. The cold wind blew against her hair, the sounds of flapping coming to a short halt. By this time Gehrman was probably done with whatever needed to be done in regards to the corpse. ‘The owner’  Maria suddenly thought. The owner that was left a clawed mess amongst the floor, eyes wide and mouth agape. The hunter turned towards the cages in front of her, then back at the edge of the balcony. She thought silently; a numerous pair of small, beady black eyes watched. Had this been the night of the hunt Maria was sure that she would’ve instead been met with a pair of empty cages once lived in. But it wasn’t. At least until now.

Maria reached a hand up towards the lock. Old, but not rusted enough to have been shut completely. She paused, looking back towards the drop of the balcony. With a quiet ‘click’ the large gated door from the cage was opened. It took a moment before the sound of fluttering wings soon filled the air. The sky above was filled by the white dotted outlines of birds rather than the familiar figures of crows and others that flew so commonly around Yharnam. Maria almost felt a sense of peace, even if it felt fleeting.

When the hunter could no longer see the flock anymore, Maria turned back towards the entrance of the house. It was too dark to see anything from where she was standing. It looked almost like the entrance to an abyss. Maria sighed hushedly to herself, tipping her hat forwards in a way that shrouded her eyes. Maria didn’t turn back, simply walking back into the darkness once more. 

Gehrman felt that familiar ache in his bones as he stood. The house grew colder, likely from the lack of candlelight or fireplace since the night of the hunt. The corpse that lay beneath the hunter was thinly veiled now, though the tint of red had begun seeping through. Gehrman tried not to think much of it; a dead man couldn’t complain. 

Gehrman felt his sense twitch as the now familiar sound of creaking footsteps made themselves known from behind the hunter. He turned around, being ever trusting that the person behind would indeed be Maria. Gehrman just nodded. 

“Find anything?” 

Maria remained quiet at first, her eyes moving towards the entrance that she previously came from. But she spoke. “It seems the owner had quite the stock on him” 

Gehrman raised an eyebrow, looking back towards the hidden corpse. “What an unfortunate predicament that he was left unprepared” The older hunter scoffed. Maria said nothing. Instead she listened, her senses picking up the odd sound of chatter from outside closeby, yet far enough that she was unable to hear what it was about. Gehrman noticed it too, taking his blade out. “I see that’s our queue” he murmured, stepping towards the door that led outside. Maria paused as she looked back, then at the corpse that lay upon the floor. Someone else would come over eventually to take care of the body.

Maria just sighed and followed behind.

Chapter Text

It felt strange. To be so afraid of something that could not be seen with the eyes itself. Most hunters hid their fears of the scourge with an air of hostility and pride, often boasting of their fearlessness to those curious of mind. Even those few who were afraid instead hid their fears with a layer of isolation and stoicism familiar to those closest amongst the church.

In Gratia’s case, it felt as though it was neither of the two. She had been a hunter for so long that the fear of the scourge went out from her mind absentmindedly for a time, yet there was always a lingering feeling that she kept into account. For her it just felt like a weight in the chest that would come and go, and each time it came she would simply put her faith in the hunters around her to cleanse the streets of beasts alike that it would eventually fade away. 

Gratia felt that strange weight in her chest. Yet it did not seem to fade away as it normally did.

It didn’t feel unusual at first. Gratia just brushed it off and went about with her duties as a hunter, bashing in the brains of any beast or blooddrunk hunter during the night of the hunt with her trusty hunk of handheld iron. But time passed, and the feeling that knocked against her ribs started to weigh against her lungs like smoke. Gratia just coughed it off as if it were the common cold as time went by, hoping for the lingering feeling to pass as most small ailments did. If at worst, Gratia could turn to the vial bloods that lay within her pockets. 

Death seemed to follow Gratia and the other hunters more and more as the time went by. The burning of Old Yharnam, though now faded to ash, still remained fresh within the minds of those who witnessed it. Gratia only remembered the feeling of warmth blowing against her face, the scent of smoke clogging her lungs as she traversed, making sure to watch her step amongst the crackling rooftops, lest she be plunged down into the fiery pits. Then it faded to black. Gratia preferred it that way, feeling as though a clear memory of the bloodshed that resumed at that time would leave her with a sense of frenzy if looked upon too fondly. The hunter shook her head lightly back and forth in a motion of willing forgetfulness. 

For the past couple of days Gratia was on her own. She didn’t mind it too much, knowing that figures closest to the church like Ludwig were probably busy with other aspects aside from dealing with the aftermath of another hunt. Gratia also noted that since the incident with the aqueduct, she had not seen any sign of Simon. Gratia didn’t worry too much, aware of his new occupation of singling out those who had been inflicted with the scourge and showing them mercy. That could be said for most hunters, though perhaps the harrowed one did it in a neater fashion compared to most.

She thought back to a moment the two shared not long ago, before the mess of the hunts as well as the burning of Old Yharnam caused both to focus more on their respective work more often. 

“Do you fear the scourge?” 

That’s what she had asked him. It was a simple question that was often asked amongst hunters alike, at first in an attempt to gain comradery but later down the line became an opportunity for one to brag about their supposed bravery.

Simon was lounging between a tight corner against the church walls as he normally did. Gratia often noticed that the other hunter seemed to enjoy resting near confined spaces. There was a pause for a moment as he thought of his answer. Gratia almost wondered if his answer would neither be a yes or a no.

“Most fear the scourge,” Simon said. “Even the most esteemed of hunters are wary of the effects of the bloodlust that comes from the nights of the hunt” 

Vague as ever. Gratia wanted to laugh like she normally did. “Does that mean you don’t?” She replied. There was no malice or ill will in her voice, but rather a tone of banter that the hunter attempted to start. She heard Simon briefly snicker before he turned his body round to properly face her.

“Perhaps I do,” Simon responded. “Fear nowadays is what differentiates us from the beasts” 

“Still sly as ever with your answers I see” Gratia said. “Good to see you haven’t changed much after all this time”. Simon grinned. He turned himself over fully, leaning over as he sat.

“And what say you?”

Gratia took a moment to answer. “I’m not sure,” she spoke. “I have faith that the church and it’s hunters will fend off the scourge as they have done for all this time”

Gratia couldn’t see it, but she could judge from his quietness that Simon had rolled his eyes at the answer she gave. She didn’t judge him for it much; that’s just how he was. 

Gratia looked up to the grey sky. Whilst the snowfall was not as heavy as it was a couple of weeks ago, Gratia either way hurried the pace in which she walked, preferring to avoid the biting cold that would blow against her face. The only thing that made Gratia prefer winter over the other seasons was that when it came to the aftermath of the hunt the smell of death felt less prominent. Gratia cleared her throat as she walked on, the outline of the workshop fading into view.

The beginning of the day seemingly went by as usual. The sound of hushed chatter amongst hunters within the workshop rang in the air as Gratia passed by, bragging about whatever kills they obtained during the night of the hunt. Gratia didn’t care much for making scores out of her own kills, though she didn’t see any reason to complain about what other hunters did to pass the time. Sometimes time felt as though it went slower after the hunt, and Gratia knew that the malignant sense of boredom was any hunter’s disdain. Gratia just sent a silent prayer that the bloodlust wouldn’t consume them all as the hunter walked past. 

Gratia made her way up, passing by different rooms amongst the workshop, making sure to avoid bumping her head against the top of the door frame as she occasionally peered into some of the rooms out of interest. A few hunters noticed her, either waving in greeting or going back to whatever activity they previously occupied themselves with. Gratia waved back, before continuing on her way. As she walked, she heard the rush of footsteps at the door before a familiar voice called out to her. 

“Gratia! Is that you?” 

Gratia turned her body towards the Holy Blade, smiling wearily. “Here I am,” she replied. Ludwig chuckled, walking towards the taller hunter. There was a tired shadow underneath his eyes that Gratia noticed and parts of his dark hair were starting to go white from stress, but Gratia didn’t pay much mind to it. Gods knew that she and any other hunters of recent were just as worse for wear as time went on.

“I feel like I haven’t heard from you in awhile” Gratia noted. “Not since all the mess going on since Old Yharnam burned”. Ludwig dragged a hand against his hair nervously. “My apologies for that; there’s been stuff going on behind the scenes that I’ve needed to attend to” The Holy Blade said. Gratia just nodded, not wanting to stress out the other hunter more. Gratia cleared her throat, feeling the familiar weight in her chest come back. “No need for the apologies”. 

Ludwig said nothing, but appeared less nervous than before. “I’ve been meaning to ask a favour from you”. Gratia produced a low hum in reply, crossing her arms together. “And what might the Holy Blade need in this fine hour?” Gratia joked. A pause of silence responded to her only. 

“There’s a few hunters that I sent out towards the Western part; nearby the border between here and Hemwick” Ludwig started. “It’s been awhile since they came back; normally I would’ve sent someone else to retrieve them, but as you can see my presence is needed here at the moment” 

Gratia straightened herself. “What’s to the West?” The hunter inquired. Ludwig just shrugged tiredly as he spoke.

“Something strange; Gehrman suspects it may have something to do with whatever’s been going on nearby Hemwick.”

“ Witch country ” Gratia breathed out. Not that Gratia was as superstitious compared to others within Yharnam; she just knew to be wary when it came to the wooded areas that surrounded the outside of the city and the rumours that spread from them. Ludwig placed a hand upon her shoulder, almost in supplication.

“I’m only asking since I trust you can figure out what’s going on,” he said. “Besides, I know that you’re more than capable in regards to taking care of what needs to be done if necessary.” Gratia said nothing, just smiling wearily back at the Holy Blade. Capable? Gratia thought on that word for a moment. 

“Fine. I’ll see what’s been going on with them” Gratia replied. “Though if they give me a hard time you personally owe me one” She joked, slowly making her way back up the stairs. Ludwig just laughed. 

To say that it was difficult to pinpoint where the hunters that Ludwig had sent wandered off to was an understatement. Gratia found herself wishing that she knew where Simon was so that she could drag him with her to find them.

The snow by then had stopped, but whatever footprints were previously left behind were by now covered up completely. The hunter found herself frustrated to say the least, but she didn’t give up yet. If there was one thing that a hunter could track, it was the scent of blood. 

And the smell was already starting to grow pungent as she walked forth. A bad sign, to say the very least. 

The sound of snow crunched as she walked. Her ears twitched as she could vaguely make out the sound of hushed whispering. Her eyes and brow narrowed as she stepped closer, hiding herself behind the wall of the cracked building that towered above her. She waited a moment, breathing in, before stepping out into the open. A risky move. 

Gratia found both hunters, as well as the source of the iron scent that plagued her senses. The hunters themselves appeared more rugged than herself, standing huddled against the corpse of what Gratia realised was a former dog that was a common sight near the dense woodland of Hemwick. Various sharp blades were tied against it, though on closer inspection a bullet to the head was what ended the beast’s tirade. Both hunters turned towards her slowly. Gratia wanted to sigh to herself, but restrained from doing so. 

“I’m right to assume that you’re both the hunters I’m supposed to be looking for?” She stated simply. The hunter that stood closest to the corpse said nothing, instead looking intently into it. ‘Strange’ Gratia thought to herself initially. The other hunter that stood closer to Gratia herself took a moment before replying, casting a side glance at the other hunter every few seconds.

“He sent for us?” He asked sluggishly. 

“That’s right,” Gratia responded, frowning. The hunter furthest away was still staring down at the corpse. Something was already feeling off, but at the moment Gratia just kept talking with the hunter that stood nearest to her. “You were supposed to report back to him before dawn settled in”. The sky was still as grey as ever, though it was clear that wherever it was above the clouds, the sun still remained. 

The hunter closest paused, before replying. “Got side-tracked with this” he said, pointing the edge of his pistol towards the hound’s corpse. The second hunter was kneeling down now, the red tint of blood reflecting in his eyes. “We were just about to set off. Honest” 

Gratia wanted to tilt her head at the last part. Honest? It didn’t seem that way. She felt overdramatic, but Gratia found herself gripping at the handles of her iron fist behind her back as she prepared for the worst. The hunter standing before her was about to open his mouth to continue his excuse, but found himself staring back once more towards the other hunter. Now his gaze was more intense than ever. The hunter spat out irritatingly.

“What the hells got your attention?” 

No words were spoken. Instead, the overly curious hunter reached out a hand towards the beast’s body. A second passed, before his red-soaked hand pulled something out from within. Something sharp and glistening. His eyes widened with sickly glee. A fresh bloodgem that shone bright, still dripping from the sanguine that coated it. 

Before Gratia could speak the other hunter marched towards the other, his eyes now totally fixated on the gem that was held within the other’s grip. “Where did you get that?”

The second hunter held the gem nearer to his chest possessively. “Where’d you think?” He pointed with a free hand at the corpse that lay between them. Gratia took a step forward. It wasn’t uncommon for hunters to grow possessive over the loot they managed to grab after their hunts. Freshly soaked blood gems especially were a rarity that most hunters were unafraid to boast about. But Gratia couldn’t care about that. There was a tension that was ripping apart it’s surroundings.

The first hunter reached a hand towards the other hunter’s hand. “Give it.” The second hunter narrowed his eyes and he attempted to hide away his fresh loot. 

“Find your own one. I snagged this one fair and square”.

Gratia was about to interject until the hunter who had previously spoken to her in a somewhat resigned manner threw himself at the second hunter. Both figures were grasping at each other, as the second hunter that previously held his new loot attempted to kick off the other. Gratia swore under her breath, dashing towards the two in an attempt to intervene. Which proved difficult with how frenzied both figures were moving as they grasped at one another. Gratia tried to get in between them, roughly grabbing at the coat collar of the hunter closest to her as she attempted to pull him away from the other hunter. He swore and lashed out against his surroundings, almost like some rabid dog that tugged against it's chain. Gratia didn't stop her attempt, though out of the corner of her eye she saw the edge of something glisten. 

Then something happened that Gratia wasn’t able to prepare herself for. The only way she could react was through the pupils within her eyes dilating. 

A loud bang erupted in the air, and Gratia found her arm grazed by the cold silver of a bullet, only narrowly avoiding being fully hit as she flinched. There was nothing to shield the other hunter from the impact, and soon he fell to the snow limply. A line of red followed afterwards as he landed roughly onto the ground. Gratia didn’t give herself time to think, instead grasping at her iron fist on instinct as she swung it back, her teeth clenched in sudden rage. That strange feeling that sunk below in her chest rose and burnt away at her like a fire. A raging frenzy that controlled her next move as she swung the iron right into the side of the head of the last hunter left. Only his eyes seemed to widen before the blow was dealt. 

For just a moment, Gratia almost felt a sense of beasthood run warm in her blood. 

Gratia leaned against the cold surface of the stone wall. She dropped her iron fist to the ground with a quiet thump, lifting both hands instead in front of her face. They trembled fiercely, the edges of her gloves still stained from both her and the other hunter’s blood. Human blood. Her wound, although light, bled slowly down against her arm. Gratia clenched both fists tightly, bringing them towards her chest as she attempted to slow down the rapid beating of her heart. 

Gratia gritted her teeth together harshly, almost wiring her jaw shut. There was no sound to be heard, just the sound of a cold wind blowing and whistling against the blackened buildings that crowded around the lone hunter. Surrounding her. Trapping her. Gratia felt her head pound, grasping at it with bloodied hands. She found herself kneeling over, her side still pressed up against the cold wall. She tried to breathe in, biting at her lip as if to wake herself up. A bad dream, this is what it felt like. All she needed to do was just breathe.

'I know that you’re more than capable in regards to taking care of what needs to be done if necessary'

Gratia grasped at her head harder.

There was no sound to be heard. Just the rapid beating of a heart that subsided from a ravaged frenzy.

Chapter Text

It’s dark.

It can’t see. Only sensing the prickling feeling of pain that bristles through it's arms and legs. Through it’s skin. 

There’s a pungent scent in the air that it recognises. That it yearns for. Blood. It can feel the lack of it within itself, drained fully. It tries to move it’s head, noticing another presence that surrounds it entirely. Every inch of it’s body stings and burns, as if it were on fire. 

There’s another scent. Strange, but not unfamiliar to it. The same scent as itself. It can hear a humming that rattles against the air. Like a prayer. The humming grows louder the longer it regains it’s senses. 

It moves and twists it’s arms and legs, attempting to break free from the contraption that envelopes it. The sound of old and burnt wood creaks and groans. But it doesn’t stop moving. The humming, chanting sensation that echoes around it grows louder and louder. 

Finally, it breaks free, landing onto the cold stone floor. It’s knees buckle beneath it painfully, but it manages to get up slowly after a moment. 

Then the humming stops. Silence. Only the rattling of the wind against boarded up windows remains.

It raises it's head up, attempting to track down the scent of blood. It's desperate for it. A low growl emits from whatever remains of it's throat. It burns, but it doesn’t stop. The sight from it’s eyes is still a blur, but it’s vision no longer remains pitch black. It can tell it's surrounded by prying eyes. Sounds of shuffling against the floor and low growls emanate from the dark. It hisses when it feels the presence step too close towards it, hearing the sound of claws scraping against stone as whatever it was stumbled back clumsily. 

Everything smells of ash. The faint sound of crackling fire could still be briefly heard outside in the distance. It hissed to itself once again. It had only awakened for a short period of time from whatever had happened to it previously, yet it knows that fire is not good. Fire hurts.

What happened to it? Why was it here? 

Everything was dark and faded. It almost hurt trying to remember. 

A low trill comes out from it’s throat involuntarily. It’s claws scrape and slash against the ground beneath them. It’s still surrounded, the sounds of low growls and hisses pierce the silence within the air. It’s sight and other senses may have been weakened, but it’s scent remained ever sharp. 

Blood. It needed blooded. 

It raises it’s head, attempting to search for the scent that it so desperately craves for. Whatever liquid still remains within it’s body drools and drips from it’s jagged teeth. It feels it’s eyes widen when the scent grows stronger. It slinks down, almost crawling towards it as it’s skin burns from movement. It quickens it’s pace as it follows the scent, the other presence around it simply watching, staying close yet keeping their distance.

It followed. Then it stopped. 

Something lay beneath it. Injured. Wounded. Bleeding . 

The other figure growled weakly, attempting to scare it off. But it was no use. Even itself knew that it could not be scared off so easily.

Blood. The scent was so sweet. It almost made itself feel sick from it. 

A fowl, shrill shriek ripped against it’s throat. It echoed into the air of whatever still remained of Old Yharnam.