Chapter I: Plague...

Unexpected as it is, life can take some strange turns now and then, and regrettably, most of the times in this god forsaken place, it is for the worst. It's been 30 years since I left my duties behind along with all the noble bullshit and walked out those stone gates, and yet the image of that day still haunts me. To make matters worse, I have felt withdrawal, as lack of the queen's blood has ravaged my body. I age not still, as all of Cainhurt do, yet the other perks of the queen's tainted blood have dissipated greatly... the vigor, the strength, the endurance, all of it washed away... leaving me now just a glowing-eyes freak who seemed to put no year on in 3 decades, left with a body far older than it looks, and a soul ravaged by guilt and consequence... The worst part is, however, not the loss of powers, or the disgrace, the loss of recognition or title, but the loss of the most valuable thing that tainted blood would offer... the immunity...

This world is cursed... as if the very ground itself shakes and trembles, the world trying to vomit off greedy humans by all means necessary... We, especially those of us who saw or tasted the forbidden, are especially afflicted by this... The world is diseased, and so are we... and after so many years of having the noble, tainted blood keep away the monster, the plague and the blade, I finally find myself succumbing... My mind becomes number, at times, as I gaze upon my naked hands, I see clawed talons... I know not how long I still have, but I am becoming the monster I once hunted and that cuts deepest... I would rather die human than end up this accursed monstrosity...

Yet memories are to blame... always to blame... And old memories are those who now saw me to a black carriage now riding through the mud, no ray of light shining through its murky windows... I guess filth is fitting, as it is, for my very life is nothing more than filth... Once a proud knight, I am left with the legacy of the dirt... The little I took away with me, the only memory of pride, slowly waning itself... Yet that last strand of sanity, that last piece of knowledge of a once better past, remembered by none but my subconcious, I just cannot let go. I find myself clenching claws and fangs around it as if I was a ravenous beast, just to keep a memory alive of a life gone by a decision... That is the price I am needed to pay. A price I could refuse any day but one that keeps both my sanity and what little is left of my true self. And so, I ride the filth to the origin of it all, or more likely, the result of it all... The city of Yharnam, the Capital of Blood Ministration, as well as its only home... the sole city related to all, from the discovery to the use and misuse of the ancient blood that coursed through the veins of the queen I used to know and also, though much dissipated, through my own.

As I descend, ancient memories reawaken upon seeing the gothic spires engulfed by the dusk, yet still the setting grim as ever, as the carriage stops in front of a cemetery... Almost fitting, that the clinic be placed in such a cursed place, yet unnerving still... My mind wanders and I lose track of time for a couple of minutes, as I remember the sad face of the fair princess, before I walked away from that insanity... She would be about 40 now, I would presume... As for me, 70, though my age shows not, as all cursed with eternal youth must endure no gain in years, past the point of maturity or that of the turning... We are all walking memories, or at the very least were... I sigh in disbelief and quickly dismiss the thoughts as I proceed... The alleyway is somewhat dark, yet the way is still clear... The silence feels heavy as I walk among countless unnamed gravestones, as if the dead paving the way to a grim destiny... Yet as before, a decision made shall not be unmade and thus I step into the dim light of the clinic, alone...

My eyes quickly become accustomed to the strange lighting as I remove my top hat and proceed with caution. The walls are firmly decorated with wooden cabinets filled with multiple strange substances, varying from a strange blue liquid to unrecognizable pills. The lower ends all contain cupboards, some open and some not, filled with files I lack the interest in, as well as vials of the precious blood... This time, my way is paved not by the dead but by the hopeful, as I walk on a narrow hall with walls made real by the surgical tables which bore attached to them tall pillars with vials hanging, long, thin hoses with needles hanging, dripping at time in a reddish substance... I smell the blood... Intoxicating, as if my inner monster grins at the taste... Always has been so...

As I reached the upper end, my eyes were greeted by the light of a hand lantern, and with it a man with a raggedy beard in a wheelchair, bearing a tall hat and seemingly worn clothes, yet the uniform betrayed him... a Minister stood before me, and stared me down grimly...

"I seek the healing blood. The one said to cure all disease." I said firmly, without fluctuations or feeling. Despite being there, I felt a dizziness as my mind was wandering again.

"Oh, yes... Paleblood... Well, you've come to the right place. Yharnam is the home of blood ministration. You need only unravel its mystery. But, where's an outsider like yourself to begin? Easy, with a bit of Yharnam blood of your own... But first, you'll need a contract..."

As I saw his face, I found myself feeling just a little unnerved. There was something... beastly about him... as if the aura he irradiated was wrong, savage... even bloodthirsty... Yet most disturbing were his eyes, as light shone upon his face... or, better said, his lack of eyes... Grinning, the man handed me a piece of yellow, worn paper which requested that I write down details regarding myself, a short, succinct origin, as well as physical information related to my body. The paper symbolised the contract of a hunter of beasts, who would hunt those who have fallen to the plague... I would complete it without a word and hand it back, receiving another unnerving grin.

"Good." he said. "All signed and sealed. Now let's begin the transfusion."

The facility appeared somewhat unsanitary, and upon witnessing the host, the thought was rather dreadful. I must have shown my skepticism, as the minister proceeded to add with the same cryptic attitude:

"Oh, don't you worry. Whatever happens... You may think it all a mere bad dream..."

The sting of the needle hurt... I watched in silence, as the first drop of blood dissipated in a strange, yellowish substance, and the such flew in my veins... I found myself drifting off, losing sense of self and feeling nausea as well as a strong vertigo... Looking around, the minister was gone, and below me stood a pool of blood, seemingly dripping from my other arm, where the blood I originally had was being let out, to be replaced by Yharnam blood... The puddle kept growing, and the next sighting was horrendous. As if manifested by the blood itself, a monster appearing as a ravenous humanoid wolf-like beast, covered in blood and grime, was crawling out of the pool, oozing blood. It looked as if it was missing skin and flesh in different places, and it crawled with an inhuman, almost painful step, towards the table. I tried reacting. Adrenaline and instinct took over, yet I found myself unable to move a single muscle to defend myself from the vicious monstrosity. It lunged at me to strike, yet as it reached forth, somehow it was repelled, bursting ablazed. I watched in shock as the monster was burning alive, struggling desperately to put itself out...

The nightmare was over, and so I thought... I felt something touch my legs... more and more ... As if tiny hands started crawling on my body... As I turned my face I would witness the source... I felt as if my body was violated by the creatures, strange, small and deformed, as if tiny corpses shining in moonlit silver... Yet I felt no sinister intent... As my body was covered by them, I lost focus and conciousness... I would awaken minutes later, perhaps even an hour, alone, with none of my belongings but the clothes on my body... a ragged coat with a white tie, my leather gloves and boots, my old cape, worn and torn, and my top hat laying next to me. The atmosphere was heavy, and the air was sweet... Something, however, was rather off.

I could not only feel it, but literally smell it. I was in danger, for downstairs, stood a beast, feeding off a corpse. I proceeded with lots of caution, trying my hardest to sneak past the creature. I failed. I felt dizzy and my steps were uneven and sloppy. It could smell me approaching. Though wounded, it seemed, the black wolf-man now stood before me... It started swiping his claws brutally around, which I did my best to dodge, as I was trying to use my knowledge of hand-to-hand combat in order to hit some weak spots, or so I presumed. I tried punching the jaws, poking at an eye, or even hitting the groin. The beast took minor bruises, yet was unfazed. As my stamina left me, a single swipe sent me to oblivion... Falling down, bleeding profusely, I awaited death... the end... My thoughts were all that haunted the final moment, all around lacking sound, smell, or even sight, but the crimson river gashing from my wounds...

"I'm sorry... princess..."

A/N: I am truly glad to see so much attention in so little time. Just to make this clear, you may consider the story sort of a new game plus. For clarification, the character is currently wearing the following: Charred hunter garb, Hunter trousers, Top hat, Yharnam hunter gloves. Enjoy and review. I will post a new chapter as soon as I can.