"How did things get like this?"
Warren had just witnessed the Blood-soaked Man cut down a whole group of beast men, and he was still not used the blood that splashed on every surface. The Blood-soaked Man regained his composure and continued toward the Healing Church.
"I'm guessing you're not from here then?"
"No, sir. I traveled from Lovinton."
"That's far. What brought you here?"
"I'm looking for someone. Someone dear to me."
The Blood-soaked Man lifted up a hand as the pair neared a turned over carriage. The Blood-soaked Man made a motion for Warren to go around the right side of the carriage while he began to go around the left. Following orders, Warren slowly walked around the side, saber at the ready to fight what was to come.
The sight of the creature was like that of the beast men, but grotesque in size and manner. Its clothes were torn from its fat frame, and in its hand, it held one of the statues that could be seen throughout the architecture of the city. The lumbering creature turned to see Warren, then let out a deep scream before lifting the statue like a club. Warren was able to roll out of the way as the statue came crashing down, cracking both itself and the cobblestone that it hit.
The creature slid the statue along the ground, ramming it into Warren's side. Warren felt the air leave his lungs as he was thrown from his place, landing three feet away from where he was.
The creature slowly walked to Warren and would have attacked if not for the Blood-soaked Man, who stormed up behind the creature and leaped onto its back. Soon the serrated edge of the man's weapon was against the beast's throat, tearing it apart with one swift movement.
The beast swayed, then fell to the ground, with the Blood-soaked Man digging his blade into the beast's back for good measure. The man breathed heavily but quickly regained himself. He leapt off the creature's back and walked back to Warren, picking up the conversation where it left off.
"Funny. I am looking for someone too."
"What is their name?"
"You're not from Yharnam right?"
"Of course not. I hate this city."
"And what do you think of the Healing Church?"
"It has destroyed this town by worshiping demons. They use blood to pervert nature."
The Blood-soaked Man grunted in agreement, and though Warren couldn't see through the cloth on the man's face, he could tell that the man was smiling.
"You and me are going to get along great."
They reached the Healing Church with no further incident, save for Warren having to take a break to catch his breath while the Blood-soaked Man shook his head disapprovingly.
The entrance of the church opened up into a circular graveyard with a large statue protruding out of the center. Two giants in the church attire stamped around the area. Three exits could be seen, one one the left that lead down into darkness, one on the right that led up to light, and a center path that lead directly up into the Chapel of the Healing Church.
The Blood-soaked Man turned to face Warren, looking him dead in the eyes. When he spoke, there was not a drop of good will in his voice.
"Tell me. Who do you seek?"
"A sister. She left for the Healing Church long ago."
"What is her name?"
"Why does it-"
"Tell me her name or my help stops here."
"... Julia."
The Blood-soaked Man gave a slow nod before he spoke again, and he chose his words carefully.
"Good, good. Now, can you fight?"
"The beasts. Well, I suppose I can. Not by myself."
"Well learn quick then. You have seen me fight, you must do the same. Do not think when you fight. You must attack like an animal. They are beasts, and to defeat them you must also be a beast."
"To what end? If we are both beasts, then what separates us from them?"
The Blood-soaked Man gave a small chuckle.
"The only thing that will separate us, in the end, is which one is alive and which one is dead."
Warren followed the Blood-soaked man as he walked into the graveyard, crouching and sticking to the shadows of the wall to avoid the attention of the giants. The two quickly crept through past both graves and giants, heading down the path on the left. The path led down into a heavily fogged and dark road surrounded by stacked together housing, which Warren could only describe as a slum. As they walked down the road toward the church, a beast man on the ground tried to stand up and attack, but the Blood-soaked Man cut him down before it could rise.
The Blood-soaked Man led Warren to a door on the side of the road, almost hidden in the dark and tucked next to a chained coffin. The man opened the door with ease and quickly ushered Warren inside before closing the door behind him, shoving a chair under the handle as an extra measure.
The room inside the home was modest but cluttered to an unholy degree. All manner of clothes, books, bottles, and furniture filled the small house, and every one of them was covered in a thick layer of dust. This seemed to not bother the Blood-soaked Man as he walked past it all and head up a small stairway stuck between swaying pile of chairs and a pillar of books holding up the ceiling.
"Sir, where are we?"
"A friend's house. We need his help to get into the church."
"Surely the church has a front door."
"I wouldn't trust it, nor anything that has to do with the church. They started this mess, and they have done near nothing to fix it. Worse than nothing, they knew what was causing it and continued to give the blood. They figured the good of it outweighed the bad."
"Does it?"
The Blood-soaked Man remained quiet and continued up the steps. The pair soon arrived on a room overlooking the graveyard, where and an old woman, propped up in a wheelchair, looked down on what was below her.
"Who is there? I smell blood." Her voice was soft and dry but held a certain resilience that the old tend to gain.
"It's me, Gretta. And another."
The old woman turned her head slightly, took a smell of the air, then turned back to face the graveyard.
"He is not from here. What business does an outsider have in Yharnam?"
Warren cleared his throat before speaking. "Ma'am, I am here seeking a person I have lost a long time ago. This man tells me you can lead us into the church unnoticed."
The women gave a slow nod. "Yes, yes. I can. But not without something in return."
The blood-soaked man spoke this time. "What do you need Gretta?"
"Inside the church, they have a special blood that I need. Should be marked with my name on the vial. Bring that back to me when you are done with your business in the church."
Warren spoke. "I'm not sure that you s-"
"I will Gretta. Now please, if you would?"
"Humph. The door down is beneath the dresser. The glass in the dresser is broke to make a 'Y'."
"Thank you." The Blood-soaked Man grabbed Warren's arm and dragged him down the stairs, only letting go when they reached the bottom.
"Don't you dare judge us. This is why people hate outsiders so much."
"What do you mean? The blood will kill her!"
"Do you know how old she is? I bet she is older than most still alive in the city. The blood is a gift."
"How can you say that? Look what it has done!"
The Blood-soaked Man shoved Warren to the ground.
"Look at me! Where it not for the blood, I would be a cripple, bound to a wheelchair. You dare to judge us again, I will feed you to a beast myself!"
Warren bit his tongue, knowing full well the man would keep his promise.
Soon, the Blood-soaked Man found the dresser Gretta had mentioned and moved it away to reveal a small trapdoor. He opened it, and both the man and Warren descended into the darkness.