Prologue

THE CLINIC

"We are all bound to the hunt... by blood."

A-

-am.

She was crying... Calling his name. Abraham stroked her hair, reassuring everything was fine.

"It will be fine, you are okay." He whispered softly.

Ab-

-ham.

Her straw coloured, soft and curly hair... now completely red - caked in mud and blood. It was on her tattered, torn dress, on her face... Blood. Everywhere. Abraham kept stroking her now crimson hair, repeating himself - over, and over, and over, and over again.

"It will be fine, you are okay. It will be fine, you are okay..."

Blood pooled underneath them, her severed legs splayed on the ground. Intestines and organs had spread out from her like a macabre fan, strung out from the separated torso. Her eyes blurry as the life seeped away them, like the blood from her veins...

Oh, the blood... The scent of iron, red like roses, warm like her touch... Abraham clenched his hand around the cold iron grip of his pistol.

She smiled almost warmly, tears mixing with blood running down her cheeks in rivulets.

He pressed the barrel of his gun against her head and shakily drew breath.

Ab - ra - ham.

"I love you."

Abraham jumped awake, shouting like a madman. Tears ran down on his aged visage and he realised he had drawn out his pistol. The weapon was aimed at the bench in front of him, as if expecting someone or something to be there. But there was nothing. He stared at the empty seat in front of him for a moment, and then lowered his pistol. He was inside a carriage, alone, just like when he had fallen asleep. Abraham breathed heavily, his throat was hoarse and he felt out of breath - he had probably shouted in his sleep before waking up. This accursed dream had haunted him ever since that day... Gritting his teeth, Abraham clutched the grip of his pistol - the shaking did not stop... Cursing his own weakness, he slid the small gun back into it's hidden holster underneath his coat. Needing a distraction from the nightmarish dream, he moved his hand from the holster into a pocket inside his coat. He pulled out a silver lined monocle - and a letter. Abraham placed the monocle onto his eye and adjusted it slightly before folding open the letter. As many times as he had read the contents of the letter, they did not change or give any more insight than before.

"Abraham Woods-

You are hereby cordially invited to Iosefka's Clinic in the city of Yharnam.
I know who you are, what you were, and what you will become.
Thus, I'd like to invite you to join the Hunt.
Go to the Clinic, and when there;
Ask for "Gehrman" and tell that you seek "Paleblood"
Someone will guide you further along the path you must walk.

Signed;
- Theresa"

Abraham furrowed his vizened brow and folded the small letter neatly, placing it back into his pocket once again. He had no idea who this Theresa character was. How did she know him? What did she mean by "Who he was, and what he will become"? He was merely an old soldier, nothing more. This letter made no sense to him. Gehrman? Paleblood? He had never heard of these before. But he had heard of Yharnam. His parents had left the city long ago, before he was born. And he knew of the foul rumors surrounding the city, hanging over it like a dark shroud. It was the home and the pinnacle of "Blood Ministeration". He had heard how the citizens drink blood like wine, and drown themselves in it. No wonder his family had left the place... He didn't know if any of that was true, but what was true — with absolute certainty - was the plague. Some kind of "Blood Plague" that turned men into beasts. Yharnam held regular "Hunts" to whittle them down, and recruited townsfolk and even outsiders when that happened. Maybe this Theresa was one such recruiter, and knew of his military history? And the "Paleblood" was a codeword? Abraham felt the carriage slowdown and then halt to a stop. He had finally arrived. With a creak of his stiffened joints, he rose from his seat and donned his tophat to cover his slowly receiding hairline. He opened the door and stepped down from the carriage. Turning to the driver, he tipped his hat politely and begun to speak.

"I thank you for the ride. How much do I-" The driver raised his hand to silence Abraham, and revealed a row of decaying teeth, twisted in a rotten smile.

"Got paid in advance. Ya be careful now, mister. Yharnam ain't no city for ye." And just like that - the driver snapped the reigns - and the carriage started rolling down along the road.

That smile would haunt him for a while... Abraham licked his his own teeth, as if they'd suddenly begin to rot away as well and turned to face the building ahead. A rather grandoir iron gate with an inscription on top, stood proudly before him. "Iosefka's Clinic". Here he may actually find some answers for his questions, maybe even meet this Theresa. Abraham walked to the gate, it had no visible locks or chains. He reached for the handles and gave it an experimantal tug. The gate nudged, but was heavy and needed a good pull. Taking a better grip, he pulled harder on the handles. With an ear shredding wail the gates' halves slowly parted on their rusty hinges. He cringed at the loud sound, but kept prying until the gate was open enough for him to slip by. The yard that spread out before him was relatively empty. Few flowerbeds, scattered leaves. Several crates were neatly stacked in the corner with... coffins. Abraham furrowed his brow and let his eyes wander around the courtyard. Apparently the Clinic handled burial as well, there seemed to be another gate across - leading towards a cemetary of sorts. He could make out the shapes of scattered tombstones.

"Hopefully that isn't because of the mortality rates of the patients..." Abraham grumbled and turned away from the omnious looking gate. He headed to the front door and knocked with the attached handle. The door was unusually wide, most likely to accommodate wheelchairs and stretchers. The loud knocks echoed inside the building, sounding strangely distant. Was the place empty..? Was it even open? The gate was unlocked though... Abraham awaited patiently at the door and soon enough, the sound of hard soled shoes tapping against a wooden floor could be heard, and the door slowly opened. A young woman stood at the door.

"Hello? My name is Iosefka. Step inside and we shall see what you need, sir." She said looking at the old man at her clinic's doorstep. Apparently the Clinic was open after all. The woman - Iosefka - turned around and stepped aside, opening the door further, inviting Abraham inside. He removed his hat and stepped forward through the doorway. When inside, he let his gaze wander around the room. The entrance was clearly meant to function as a waiting room, holding numerous wide benches for patients to sit on. The room was empty now however, and the benches seemed to be covered in a layer of dust. Iosefka closed the door and begun to walk past the entrance, heading towards the doors in the back of the room. Abraham followed after her, heading deeper inside the seemingly empty and abandoned building. He couldn't hold back his curiosity and asked;

"Where are all the people, Miss? I'd have thought there would be patients here, or at least other staff." He said and looked around, motioning to the absence of people and layers of dust covering the shelves and furniture. Iosefka pursed her lips and clearly thought on what to respond. Finally she sighed.

"All patients and the staff returned to their homes. The Hunt is upon us, and everyone is thus fortified in their homes. What little safety or comfort that may bring." She replied as she opened a door into an examination room. Iosefka walked across the room, accompanied by the taps of her soles to a desk and sat down.

"So, what ails you outsider?" The shelves on the walls were packed full of various instruments and jars - most filled with crimson liquid that was undoubtedly blood. Abraham followed Iosefka to the desk and nodded. He remembered the words written on the letter. He was in the right place, and this Iosefka woman was the only one there. Surely she knew something about all of this. No other way than to try, right? He thought and looked over the woman looking upwards at him and awaiting his reply.

"My name is Abraham Woods, I came here to see a man, "Gehrman". I was told to seek the "Paleblood". Can you tell me how to find him?" Iosefka's face darkened quickly and she glared at the old man standing before her. That's why he was here? Had someone sent him here? Usually the old man took care of these, and none contacted her specifically. Ioselfka bit her lip and thought for a moment. This was unaccounted for, and it was in the way of her plans. She hadn't expected this, maybe she should get rid of him while Wait. Maybe this could work for her advantage. Yes... He seemed not to know what those words truly stood for - which in turn meant he could be... guided to the correct path. Iosefka's lips curled into a smile and she stood up.

"Yes, I do know where to start. Just follow me, and do as I tell you..."

Leaving the room, Iosefka guided Abraham further into the depths of the clinic. It was like many of it's kind, but here... many of the shelves were filled with jars of crimson blood - almost every single one of them. Some of the vials and jars were different, containing a thick looking, blueish substance - which seemed to glow dimly. This truly was Yharnam, the capital city of blood ministeration... The pair walked past the massive shelves of books and vials, onto a staircase and ascended to the second floor. They kept walking furher and furthe, until they reached the other end of the long hall. A secluded room apart from the rest. Iosefka opened the door with a key and gestured inside.

"Right here, Mr. Woods." She said and lead Abraham into the small room.

"Please lay down on the operating table, and roll up your sleeve. This is mandatory operation for new Hunters of Yharnam." Iosefka explained as they walked towards an operating table. Abraham followed her instructions, sat on the edge of the table, took off his coat and set it aside. He nervously started unbottoning and rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, watching Iosefka walk around, gathering supplies and instruments. He laid down slowly and sighed heavily.

"Do not fear, Abraham. This is quite simple... Your goal is same as everyone else on the Hunt. To find the answers and to unravel the mystery of Yharnam. But where's an outsider, like yourself, to begin?" She explained while setting up equipment. Abraham felt uneasiness as he watched the nurse work and speak these cryptic words. But for now he should do as Iosefka instructed, and work with Gehrman and the Hunters. And he would eventually find answers to questions he had.

"Easy, with a little of Yharnam blood of your own... But you need a contract... A hunter's pact." Ioselfka finished and picked up a thick, hollow needle attached to a surgical tube. The transparent tube lead to a bottle of thick, crimson blood. Abraham winced as the needle pierced his skin, and dug into his vein. Iosefka smiled and patted Abraham's hand assuringly.

"Good, now let's begin the transfusion..." And with that she opened a small valve on the bottle hanging next to the bed. The thick, almost omnious liquid slowly seeped from the bottle, along the tube, and into Abraham's own veins. He looked at the needle in his arm and shifted his gaze to Iosefka, worried expression on his face.

"Oh, do not worry... whatever happens from now on, you may think it all a mere bad dream..." She replied with a soft tone.

Abraham felt heavy... his conciousness fading away... He fell into a haze of darkness. The last thing he heard was Iosefka's silent voice;

"Find my Clinic, and talk to me once more..."