As a one-off story, specially created for chm01, I present:
The Hunter's Last Battle
Leonryk climbed the steps wearily, his Chikage and pistol in hand. He had just killed the Wet Nurse, and Rom before her. He did not know that what he had done would have caused such a horrifying sight just above the city of Yharn'am, the moon turning a sickly and bloody red colour. As he marched through the streets of Old Yharn'am, he began to think that his murder of the two creatures may have done more harm than good.
But it did not matter all the time, and when he returned to the Hunter's Dream, he was comforted by The Doll and even at times, Gehrman, although he could be a bit odd at times. The old man was a veteran hunter, although he did not look it. He sat in a wheelchair most of the time, his pale and frail hands clutching the handles of the chair. When he spoke, he spoke as if he were growling, but he was an old man, so Leonryk had forgiven it, not that it was ever a problem for the young hunter.
The feathers on his cape began to itch, and Leonryk soon sheathed his weapons to cure it. Ever since he had met with The Crow Hunter, the two had been steadfast allies in the gothic city that was Yharn'am. The garbs that Eileen, the proclaimed 'Hunter of Hunters' had handed Leonryk were light at first, and it definitely helped when he had to quickly sidestep or dodge an incoming axe swing, or a bludgeoning warhammer that would have crushed his skull if he were not in his garbs.
But it was a sad moment, when Leonryk had made his way to Castle Cainhurst, and found his friend, Eileen, bleeding out on the steps before the Great Hall. She had been bleeding out all over the pavement, and she had done nothing to prevent it. When Leonryk had tried to supply her with blood vials, she pushed his hand away and her breaths began to become lighter, and slower, until she stopped breathing completely.
Another victim of the Great Beast Hunt of Yharn'am.
It was needless to say that when Leonryk had encountered the Bloody Crow of Cainhurst, he was furious, enraged, horrified that he was not there for Eileen when she had always been there for him. He had drew his Chikage and was out for blood. It was a prolonged and bloody battle, but soon it ended, with one Hunter lying on the floor, bleeding to death, with another standing tall above him, Chikage dripping with blood, his pistol relieved of bullets, and many empty blood vials left either scattered or broken all over the floor.
So, when he finally returned to the Hunter's Dream, and when he finally managed to reach Gehrman, he felt even better. The nightmare was almost over, he could leave the nightmare and go home, whatever home was to Leonryk anyway.
"Hunter Leonryk, the night is now at an end. I will grant you your peace, and end your life. You can leave this terrible place..." He mumbled.
The old man was extremely blunt with his words, and it was very odd for Gehrman. Leonryk's feather cape blustered and flapped in the small wind as he stood on the little hill outside the burning workshop.
Something else came to Leonryk. What if there was no other world? What if what he had done would never let him leave? What if Yharn'am was not a dream, but real? It scared him enough to reconsider just lying down and letting the old man cut his throat.
"I'm sorry, Master Gehrman, but I will not lie down and die like a dog." Leonryk disobeyed, like he always had done.
Gehrman raised his head, and his stormy grey eyes pierced Leonryk's very soul. The hunter had never received the look ever since he had awoke in Iosefka's Clinic. Gehrman laughed, but it was not funny, not to Leonryk anyway. The old man pushed himself upwards, climbing out of the wheelchair, and grasping the scythe that was placed alongside the old pine tree next to his wheelchair.
"Dear, oh dear. What was it? The Hunt? The Blood? Or the terrible dream? Oh well, it always comes to the hunter's helper to clean up their messes…
...And tonight, Gehrman joins the Hunt."
Gehrman leapt forward, and for someone his age, he swung his sword with incredible finesse and grace, with each swing just slightly nipping at the feathers on Leonryk's cape, or slicing through the light fabric that covered Leonryk's arms and legs and body.
It was the hardest battle that Leonryk had ever been in. Even the Bloody Crow of Cainhurst was an easier fight than Gehrman. Gehrman, as Leonryk had found out, was the very first Hunter, and he was the guide and mentor of the many other Hunters that were scattered all across the city of Yharn'am.
"Stay still, I will make it quick…." He muttered, swinging his scythe just slow enough for Leonryk to just barely miss being decapitated.
And that was also the moment that Leonryk took to end the First Hunter's life.
He fired his pistol into the old man's gut, before grabbing his Chikage with two hands, slicing upwards and cutting Gehrman from belly to the throat. Gehrman dropped his scythe, and fell to his knees, looking at his own blood as it coated the white lilies on the grass, before looking at Leonryk as he towered above him. Gehrman bowed his head, and his breath lodged in his throat when he felt the cold steel of the Chikage impale him, through his lung and out of his back.
"I'm sorry, Master Gehrman."
Gehrman looked up to Leonryk, before clutching his arm and pulling himself up so he could stand face-to-face with the hunter who beat him. Gehrman clapped Leonryk lightly on the shoulder, and then whispered to him.
"The student now becomes the master, and he will teach the hunters like I taught those before you. Goodbye, Leonryk of Yharn'am, and beware the vile-blood."