Disclaimer: I do not own Bloodborne.
How long has it been, I wonder? In this mad place, time seems to lose meaning, and the night becomes endless. The more time passes, the harder is to remember. Vague images of safer, saner times are beginning to fade from my mind. I came to Yharnam to save myself, to find a cure to something I don't even remember what it was now. As I try to remember the reason for my arrival in this eldritch city, a small chuckle escapes my lips. I was afraid of death. That much I remember clearly. I didn't want to die, so I travelled to this remote place in the hopes of finding a cure. In a way, I did found a cure. I've long forgotten how to fear death. Strangely, the thought that I would awake again even if I died did nothing to comfort me. And now, I would even accept death's embrace, should it decided to take me permanently.
I remember my first death. Confused, I awoke on the table of a clinic I couldn't quite remember how I reached it. The stench of blood permeated the air. I never liked it, and it used to make me nauseous. As I reached the front door, the sight of a beast devouring a man froze me. The creature noticed me and slowly turned, a bloody wicked grin spread on its lips at the sight of a fresh prey. A pathetic scream was the last thing that escaped my throat as the beast sank its teeth on it. My mind didn't quite register what happened as its claws gripped on my shoulder, pushing me down. The searing pain spread from my neck down to my chest as I uselessly flailed my arms around before the pressure of its jaw broke my neck. The feeling of warm blood, my blood, drenching my clothes, seeping to the ground. The pain spreading through my body, making it the only feeling I had in every limb, every nerve, every cell of my body. I was afraid of dying, but in that single moment, I desired nothing more than being dead, to be free of that pain, to be embraced by a deep, eternal slumber. Whenever I remember that, I caress the side of my neck. I still feel a lingering phantom pain in it whenever I think I'll die.
And that was the first time I came here, to this dream, this "hunter dream", as was explained to me. Ever since then, I've been sent to the Hunt, to kill beasts and find this "paleblood", whatever it is, so that I will be free from this eternal night. I've been shot, stabbed, cut, bashed, decapitated, maimed, crushed, burned, poisoned and eaten more times than I can care to count. I've fell my bones being crushed from falling heights that would only leave a bloody smudge, and seen enough of my own internal organs that I'm pretty sure I could identify them just by looking at them, should the need arise. I also surprised by the size of my guts, considering I always have been something of a coward. How that thing can fit on my belly surprises me. I now have to make a conscious effort to remember how blood smells, being drenched in it so much of it that it has became something my mind perceives on an unconscious level. I saw things that I'm sure no person was meant to see. Things that would break even the most strong-willed mind. I'm pretty sure it broke mine a few times and I end up jamming my own knife into my eyes as a result, but I can't remember if that was the case. I would probably jam them again if I did, though, so I think that's for the best.
I not sure when I stopped caring. Who knew dying is one of those things that gets easier the more you do? It makes me question my own humanity, from time to time. After all, no matter how mangled my body becomes, I don't die. I wake up in a dream, alive. My wounds heal with blood injected in my body. It doesn't even need to be in a blood vessel, I just need to jab it in my thigh and it's all good.
Sometimes, I think this is nothing but a dying dream my mind created in a feeble attempt to deny death, and in reality I'm delirious in a bed right now, and the reason I die so much is because the dream is trying to teach me to accept death, and my refusal to die is just my survival instinct being stubborn. Even if it isn't, how will I cope once everything is done and over? Would it even be worth it? I mean, should I even attempt to find something I don't even know what it is? And, for what? So that I can return to a life that I can't even remember that well? To be honest, I can't even say I care if the Hunt ends or not. I pondered at at questions like these many times, whenever I take a breather from the nightmare that calls to me. Funny how the one thing that keeps me grounded is the one thing that terrifies me the most.
This human-sized doll that is able to talk. Master Gehrman never told me from where it came, but I presume it was his creation. The first time I came here, it was just a doll. A very detailed and well made one, but still a plain doll. But after the first time I saw a monster that shouldn't exist, it seen to gain the ability to move and speak. Her voice is devoid of emotion, and her movements are graceful, yet uncanny. Her words are kind and supportive, but the tenderness in her voice sounds almost… hollow. Almost like she wants to convey feelings and emotions she wishes to feel, but doesn't understand. Right now, she sits in front of me, eyes closed and head slightly arched forward. Her breathing is calm, peaceful. Even sleeping, she maintains a dignified posture. She is exquisitely beautiful, yet her beauty seen to only accentuate the otherworldly feel I get from her. As I sat on the stairs, watching the doll's peaceful sleep, I remember the last talk I had with Master Gehrman.
"Really?" Gehrman let out a crackled laugh at my commentary. "You hunt beasts with grotesque forms of eldritch nature and the most terrifying thing you met is the doll? Oh, the young of these days…" His laugh reduced to a chuckle. "I may have a book or two that could help you out, if you wish to overcome this fear of fair ladies."
"Tsk, that's not what I meant, Master." I cleared my throat, trying and probably failing to suppress a blush. "All of those things I've fought and killed… All of them wished to live. They had desires and fought so that they would not die. Even those things I don't understand seen to desperately hold on to life. Something that exists but has no desire can't be alive. It's not more different than a tool. And yet, the doll breathes. She talks, and even drank some tea with me, in a shared moment of peace. She tries to comfort me with words, and I have the feeling she isn't lying."
"So…?" He said, but kept looking at the full moon at the sky. I have a feeling he understands what I meant, but wished that I confirm it. Or maybe he was just being polite.
"She doesn't have a desire of her own. She says she loves me and that she would do anything I ask of her. That her only wish is to care for me. But at the same time, I don't think she understands what those words mean. Like, she says them because it's what she feels that she needs to say, not because she wants to say."
"And that scares you…?" This time, Master Gehrman sounded confuse. "Ah, I see. You wished she was real, don't you? You fear that loving something that is not made of flesh, that has some… limitations due to the materials she is made of, would frustrate you. Is that it? Because if so, I may be able to modify her a little, to make it more comfortable." He let out a dry chuckle, but I could sense some sort of bitterness, or resentment hidden within it. I sighed. For an old man, he sure has a dirty mind.
"Again, no." I let out a frustrated sigh. "While I wouldn't mind meeting a woman as beautiful as her, that's not what I meant. I think that, the fact that she seems alive, yet has no desire of her own, and seem incapable of such, is what scares me. A lifeless life, I suppose. In a way, I think she is more alien than some of the things I hunt."
"Hum… If she makes you uncomfortable, I can easily dismantle her."
"No!" Master Gehrman was startled by my sudden answer. So was I. "F-forgive my outburst, master."
He scratched his chin. "Perhaps, you should rethink what is that you feel, young hunter. I don't think it is fear that makes you feel this uneasiness around her. It sounds more like… sorrow to me. Yes, sorrow. After all, she…" His body language seemed to change. It seem bitter, scornful, all of the sudden. "It has been good to talk, young one. Now, if you excuse me, I would like to be left alone. I am old now, you see, and sometimes feel the urge to rest all of the sudden."
"…Very well, Master. Thank you for your counseling." I bowed as I left him on the little garden behind the workshop. Seems to be his favorite place.
Master Gherman is the other resident of the dream. Although he is not always around, we speak once in a while. I have a feeling he is older than it could be humanly possible, and I can't help but feel he could easily overpower many of the things I have faced in this long night. He tend to keep to himself, but I feel he's tired of all this. Maybe that's why he sent me to search for the paleblood instead of looking for it himself.
I pondered on his words as I watched the doll sleeping. I couldn't help but imagine the kind of beauty that inspired the creator to make her. Perhaps Master Gherman was right in the first place. Maybe I am scared of falling in love with something that I don't perceive to be alive and that seem to love me unconditionally. Or maybe I'm just worried that if she loves humanity as a whole, then her love for me is irrelevant. She may not really love me, just the fact that I'm human. Or maybe it's the fact she doesn't seem capable of really feeling emotions, so what she calls "love" may be something different altogether. To have feelings, but not being able to differentiate or understand them… It would be like living, but not feeling alive. Which would be sad, if that was the case. Hum… yeah, maybe Master was right… Perhaps I just pity her.
In any case, I've seen to delayed my return to the Hunt for long enough. I stretch myself, getting ready to once again walk amidst the madness of the unseen village. I double check my equipment when I noticed something I've forgotten I had. A small hair ornament I've found in a place similar to this one. There was a replica of the doll holding it. Maybe that one was the original one, the one that inspired Master… Whatever the case, I felt compelled to take it, but I forgot I had it. I approached the doll and gently held the hair ornament on her head. It did seem to look good on her. She slowly moved. It seems I accidentally woke her up.
"Ah, welcome home, good hunter. I must've drifted off. What is it you desire?" As always, her voice sounded emotionless.
"Oh, sorry for waking you up. I just wanted to see how this would look on you." As I held the hair ornament, something sparkled on her. Her eyes widened in a way I never thought I would see in her as she slowly reached towards it with both hands. She held it delicately, as if it could break at any instant.
"What…what is this? I-I can't remember, not a thing, only… I feel… A yearning… Something I've never felt before…" Her voice changed. It sounded so full of emotion. "Tell me, hunter, what could this be…?"
As she slowly caressed the hair ornament, her pale blue eyes seemed to shine, and suddenly, something fell from it. She wiped it with her hands, showing to me. It seemed to be a crystallized tear. Her eyes looked towards mine quizzically, but deep down, I saw something she lacked until now. Or maybe she always had, but only now I've notice it. A small, but genuine warmth. I let out a small chuckle.
"Heh, that may be joy." Joy… I'm surprise I can still recognize it.
"Ah… I see. So, this is joy…" She looked towards the ornament with tenderness "May I…?" Her voice seemed hesitant. I never saw her asking me for something, which surprised me.
"Of course. It's yours, if that's what you wish."
"Thank you." She looked again towards it with wonder, like a child seeing something precious for the first time. She seemed nervous for the first time as she put the ornament on her head. "How… does it look?" She asked hesitantly. I couldn't help but chuckle at her question.
"It looks perfect, like it is where it belongs."
"To be where it belongs… Thank you once again, kind hunter." She bowed, returning to her more stoic behavior.
I put on my gloves and pulled my hood as I psychologically prepare to return to the Hunt once more. I turned and bowed as I always did.
"Well, until next time."
"Farewell, good hunter. May you find your worth in the waking world."
The doll answered as she always did. As I turned towards the messengers, I heard a faint whisper from behind me. "And may the Hunt be kind to you, so you can stay safe, and return to where you belong."
I turned back slightly, and found myself surprised by what I saw. It was small, but there was a tender, warm smile. I wouldn't have noticed if not for the fact I never saw her face express any kind of emotion. So, even a small curl of her lips would be noticeable. And the way her pale blue eyes seemed to shine in a faded silver tone was something I never saw before. That tiny smile was the most beautiful thing I saw in a long time, maybe even in my entire life. It reminded me of happier, hopeful times. I don't think I've ever been that glad to be wrong in my life.
The world around me faded, and the dark tower room of Yahar'gul formed around me. As I stepped outside, the moon welcomed me once again into its lunacy. I've long lost the ability to fear death. But for the first time in a long while, I've found comfort that my death may not be permanent. To think that what was supposed to be an emotionless doll reminded me about what means to feel joy… It made me hope (or should I say desire?) that maybe, I will see what lies beyond this nightmare. The night may be long, but it's not eternal. So, with a renewed resolve, I walked towards my next prey.