Yarhnam was a city of prosperity, a city of life and hope. Grand architecture and streets filled to the brim with those looking for answers. The city was nestled far from other forms of civilisation, indeed the citizens rather remain recluse to the outside world than to embrace it. But it's this reclusiveness that protected their secrets.
Blood was the talk of the town day in and day out. The miraculous healing blood. Those who were terminally ill seemed almost cured after the ministrations of miracle blood. But what the blood giveth it also takes. For as the blood did indeed heal those of affliction it also warped them into horrific beasts.
So the hunters were formed. Experts on the ways and means of hunting monsters. A secretive group clad as gentlemen that skulked the streets of Yarnham after dark, seeking prey. To rid the city of the foul plague ridden beasts. Knowing little that the beasts had once been members of this fair city.
The blood had no known origin to the people but the Healing Church kept administering the blood. Creating clinics to heal the populous. Unaware that it was the blood creating the epidemic of beasts. It is one such clinic that our story starts. With a young girl by the name of Emily who was taking her grandfather for his weekly blood infusion.
Emily was a fair girl at that. Blonde hair and alabaster skin, blue eyes shone from a high cheeked face. Naturally beautiful and seemingly out of place around such a gruesome topic as blood. A slender frame covered by a dress that too seemed too clean and fresh to be associated with such practices.
She sat on a nearby chair as one of the many doctors attended her ailing grandfather. His withered body seemingly held together by the patchwork clothes he wore. His face and hair managed and ragged from years of bedrest. Recently though he had seemed to be more vigorous and it gave Emily hope that maybe the blood was beginning to work.
"You seem better as of late Grandfather" Emily spoke quietly as to not disturb the doctor, whose hands remained steady regardless. Using a glass bottle and tube to feed the blood into her Grandfathers veins. The blood was thicker than what one would expect and it took a fair moment before it began to drip into the tube.
"I feel I have more energy and for that I am forever grateful" he replied softly, nodding to the doctor. The white robes of said doctor were dotted with blood and Emily could've sworn she saw a knife tucked away beneath them; not some surgical instrument but a brutal butchering kind.
She shook her head and disregarded the thought as the procedure finished and the doctor backed off, allowing her Grandfather to stand. She too stood and took his hand in preparation to support him should he stumble. Instead of accepting it he shrugged her off and began to walk off on his own.
Emily was shocked by his actions and ran through the halls of the clinic, past other patients and mountains of books and bottles, to catch up to her Grandfather. He was walking far brisker than usual and it was a severe effort for Emily to keep up with such an attire that was her dress.
The sun was setting and people were locking their doors. The streets emptying quickly. Gaslamps that covered the streets sparking to life and gates mechanisms whirring, securing parts of town. The stone stairs and cobbled streets seemed to swallow the life that had once been above it.
Emily had lost track of her Grandfather, her attention had been taken by the doings of the populous as they secured their housing; almost as if these nights were full of untold dangers. She continued to run, each alley and street blurring into the next, searchingly frantically.
She approached an alley that came to a rather sudden stop. The night was upon her now and the orange lights that shone through windows and from lamps seemed to do little to pierce the dark. She stumbled and upon checking what it was that made her trip she noticed it was a patchwork cloak. It's resemblance to her Grandfathers was uncanny.
She picked it up, her alabaster fingers closing around the material. It was damp and had the stench of blood, yet none were about to be seen. She fell to her knees wondering what horrific fate had befallen her dear Grandfather, that's when she heard it. A guttural, inhuman shriek from above.
She looked up and in the darkness she could make out only one thing; a pair of bright red eyes staring at her. Her breath caught in her chest. She couldn't move nor scream. The beast moved, dropping from its height. It landed gracefully, or as gracefully as any foul beast could.
It's fur was a black as the sky above her, with teeth and nails yellowed and sharpened. It walked on all fours like some malformed dog, it's claws scraping at the cobblestones. It's about matted with blood and sniffing eagerly in her direction. Surely this hideous beast must have slaughtered her Grandfather.
Emily just stared, too afraid to fight for her life. The beast growled and shrank back slightly only to pounce forward, teeth and claws speeding straight at Emily.
There was a loud bang, deafening and disorienting. Causing ringing in Emily's ears.
She had expected a quick death but after opening her eyes, which she had closed as soon as the beast had pounced, she noticed the creature staggering slightly; Bleeding from its chest.
It was then she noticed the flickering light of a torch behind her. She mustered the energy to turn and saw her saviour.
A man dressed in a long dark leather jacket that fell to his ankles. A three pointed cap and scarf that covered his face, belts and buckles and other curiosities dotted about his jacket. Blood, dried and old covering his well worn boots. Thick gloved hands holding a torch in one and a short flintlock in the other. A talisman hanging from his neck in the shape of a star.
He gracefully moved in front of Emily and without remorse he thrust the flaming torch into the body of the beast. It's screams echoing for what felt like miles. It shrivelled and became a smouldering husk of fur and bones. The man turned to Emily. She could see his eyes above his mask, they were cold and dark but seemed completely sane.
He kneeled before her and moved the scarf from his face. A heavily scarred face was shown but it was a face that seemed as though it knew kindness. He reached out a hand to help Emily to her feet and she slowly accepting it. The glove of his hand crusted with blood, from creatures past Emily assumed.
"Yarhnam isn't safe a night" the man spoke. His tone as gruff as his exterior. He holstered his pistol and wiped some of the fresh blood from his jacket. "You do know it's at night that the hunts begin?" He spoke again after regarding her for a moment.
"Then..." Emily spoke softly. Her voice sounding alien to her, clearly still in shock at tonight's events. "Then that makes you a Hunter?" She finally managed to say. The man replied with a curt nod of his head and fastened the scarf back over his face. "The night will be long" he said, muffled through his scarf.
He began to walk away, feeling through his jacket for an item which he produced after a moment. A crude weapon that seemed like a sawblade mounted to a handle. It was grimy and rusty but the hunter held it like he would a dear friend. "Wait!" Emily shouted.
The hunter stopped. Looking back over his shoulder. "This night is no place for you. Go home. These beasts will be the death of you"
"Then escort me back I beg you" Emily spoke again, her voice cracking. She didn't mean to beg but if he was right then this night could certainly be her last.