AN: I never really decided on the order of events here, so while not everything is consistent, I still sorta like these. They're posted in no particular order (or, uh, storyline).

In this chapter, Addy meets an Amygdala!

Addy knew she was bleeding, and she didn't exactly care to check how badly. But, god, was it really dripping that much? The heavy plink of blood hitting pavement echoed every laboured footstep.

She used to go to the cathedral when she needed a break. Sure, one guy there was convinced she was a liar, but Arianna had always been sweet. Plus, the old woman had been warming up to her, although she no longer called Adelaide by name. Addy had been worried that she was going mad. Now, she was worried that the poor old woman was dead. She was, after all, gone.

Addy checked the door nearest her chair first, not sure where else to start. She'd taken care of the masked fuck outside easily enough, but he backed her into the worst corner all the same. There was a flash of blue light, and she instinctively turned on her heels. However, when she saw the hand reaching for her – actually saw the hand, the fucking claw – her legs went numb and she stumbled. Just barely, it caught a claw in between her ribs, tearing the flesh away and making room for a red blossom on her chest. Addy stumbled away, only stopping when, at a safe distance, her eyes caught the rest of the beast. Its head was like a hive. It was clutched to the cathedral's spire, a multitude of arms splaying out across the bright building possessively. For a while, Addy couldn't help but stare, and somehow she knew it was staring back at her. Neither made a move, until Addy heard a pained yelp from across the far staircase. The old woman.

There was no time to stop. Addy put pressure on the wound with her free hand, pushing in until it went numb. It looked pretty small, but it felt deep.

After killing that spider, everything had gone south, and Addy couldn't help but feel it was all her fault. Even if the woman was mad, Addy had to find her.

She stumbled up the cathedral steps with a few extra cuts. The area was silent. What would she do if the woman was already dead? Well, she'd feel awful. Hell, was that spider even bad? Addy prayed to anything to hear a footstep, a breath, something to suggest the little woman was still around – hell, she'd even pray to whatever that thing was that stuck her between the ribs, if it meant finding her alive. Then she heard it, the precise opposite of what she'd been expecting: a high-pitched, guttural laugh behind her.

Addy spun around, eyes searching the blank space behind her for something, anything but the wretched red moon that bounced in her eyes. Was that a child? What mother would bring her kid here? Yharnam was barely safe enough for trained hunters; she'd think one look at the blood-red moon would tell anyone that.

Nervously, Addy's eyes twitched down the stairs. She really was dripping – countless patters of blood coated the steps, and blood was now running down from a small pool at her feet. In the moonlight, her blood looked almost black. No. No, it is black. It's black and it's…hard to focus on. The mosaic tiles seemed to shift into it, almost as if falling through.

A small, choked sound erupted from Addy's throat, her focus shifting to her numb hand. Slowly, she wrenched her head down to see the wound. A sticky black pool was soaking through her abdomen, where her hand was not clutching but inside of. It looked like a magic trick, the way her hand was buried up the wrist in her stomach. Staring, unmoving, Addy noted that the wound wasn't black, not really. It was more like the nothingness you see when you close your eyes. A hole.

She was spasming as she slipped her hand out. Her glove was slick with the dark matter, and as soon as it hit fresh air, the numbness collapsed into a stark chill.

How do I fix this? Will blood help?

Addy tried to remember where she kept her vials as her eyes flitted across the thick tar. It seemed to be leaping out at her in dark seizures of light. Then, all at once, she saw it. Them. Crawling.

Little dots were weaving in and out of her flesh, crocheting it with a thickening plaque, and she can't see anymore. It's all black. Empty.

hello

I can see you

Can you see me too?

You can now, can't you?

"Addy! Christ, I can't understand how you're even conscious."

Addy opened her eyes as a string of low curses fluttered from the man's lips. Her view was flushed bright yellow, eyes insatiable as they took in light with all the fervour of a drowning man's lungs.

When the din faded to candlelight, she saw his face above her, his brows knit together in concentration. His hands were pressed into her stomach. He reached for a roll of gauze.

His voice tremored as he spoke, laced with suspicion. "Adelaide?"

Don't get it on you. "Yeah," she breathed.

He frowned. His eyes looked ready to tumble out of his head. "How are you feeling?"

Stop. Stop touching it. "I'm good."

"What's my name?"

Chaos. The Void. You are the Cosmos, and I the wan earth. There is a hideous monolith between us, obscuring our view, watching us, recording our movements. You are the stygian flood at my ankles, my knees, and now my head. You are

"Blake."

"Good," he said. His frowned loosened, just a bit. "I wasn't sure. I thought…"

God, the light in here is too fucking bright. Addy squinted. "I'm fine."

"That doesn't hurt?"

She shrugged. "Not as much as my head. Back up, eh? Lemme see."

Addy peered down at her coat, stained a showy red, and sighed with relief.