Tired, shaded eyes watched as the weak waves repeatedly splashed at the edge of the grey pier under the soft morning sun, all whilst he let the bright light blind him as his retinas widened to absorb the majesty of the world around him, despite the industrial grey surroundings. The once forgotten surroundings was a calming sight to him and one that he would call home, even if it was going to take a large amount of time to readjust to the way the world he had returned to worked, rather than that of the blood thirsty city of Yharnam
Fear wrapped around his body and soul as the world became a tinted red at a single thought about Yharnam. The deep cerulean sea, scented with the smell of salt, fish and industrial smoke, turned a violent, sweet sanguine as the more preferable smells shifted to that of decaying flesh and bile that invaded his senses in its entirety. The weathered fingers of creatures unknown crawled up the deep carved stonework of the docks with sickening cracks echoing from the rotting joints and brittle bones as if it was a horrifying symphony, before trying to grapple the hunter's sullied boot, however, the bloody fingers barely dragging across the worn leather surface before he pulled it back in a quick, jolted manner.
He fell back as a clawed hand dragged at his leg from a puddle of dark crimson blood, the long claw at the centre of the fingers nearly cutting into him. A scourge beast dragged itself from the bloodied ground, just akin to the one from Ioseka's clinic that had done so when he had first awoken, however, rather than being saved by flames, he withdrew a silver throwing dagger from his hip pouch on his belt, before plunging it into the beast's neck with extreme fury. It roared in pain as the serrated edges ripped and torn the mangled flesh and muscles around the oesophagus and forcing it to release its grip.
The flat sole of the hunter's boot collided with the starving beast's hairless chest, before he ripped the knife from the beast's neck violently with highly pressurised crimson gushed forth like a waterfall, causing the creature to lose balance and coordination from hunger ang blood loss. It launched forwards in desperation, the yellow toned claws nearly dragging across the hunter's leather-bound chest until he moved backwards in a volley of arcane mist to escape such a fate. A growl reverberated from the salivating monstrosity's mouth whilst it begun to stray around the solitary hunter, who stood still with the bloody throwing knife in hand, the laboured breathing of the creature combined with the blood tainted drool which slapped against the concreate was the only noises in the area, until a loud scratching filled the air.
Sparks flew as the dragged bone claws grinded against the floor as it ran at the hunter, in an attempt to pierce through his stomach and spill entrails to create a bloody feast for the former human. A single streak of silver and red flashed as the dagger penetrated the dragging hand through the bone and the palm with sickening sounds, before landing firmly into the ground and pining the limb to ground. The creature still ran forwards in desperation, only for hand to tear with a wet ripping sound and a pain filled yelp from the creature, before being silenced by the curved edge of the glimmering Burial Blade.
The lifeless cadaver dropped as the red fur covered head splattered across the pavement and left sticky residue of old blood on the ground. The world began to return to its original appearance as the red sea receded to the relaxed blue it once was, and the clawing creatures disappeared. The body of the scourge beast began to fall apart with the flesh loosening from the bone as decay was quickly set upon the body, small, stringy gnarls of flesh and lifeless muscle began to turn to nothing but blood that bubbled slightly .
The iron filled liquid began to draw nearer to the hunter's body, the crimson writhing its way onto the hunter's body, before seeping into the pours of his skin, the small echoes of the creatures life entwining with his own as his body began to absorb and store the small echoes within the blood for later usage. The sound of the curved sword sheathing under his cloak echoed in the area, which was swiftly followed by the thud of his body collapsing against the ground.
The soft moaning of small creatures forced consciousness back to the hunter. Small, pale faces that were horribly disfigured greeted him as they waved their bone thin arms in the air, either in relief or joy he did not know. They had found an abandoned warehouse that was derelict with rouble and damaged glass littering the floor as he began to think. Living in Yharnam had given him an appreciation for the isolation and the simplistic, with such locations often being somewhat safer than that of the city. From deep within the leather bag on his hip, he drew a silver cane with a pointed blade forming the bottom of the staff for support as he pushed himself off of the cold ground, as the scent of blood invaded his nostrils for the second time in the new day.
The heavy steps of weighted leather echoed in the mostly empty building, alongside the small scuttering of the rats that had made the empty building home. The smell of decay grew as he opened what appeared to be a basement, movement caused the heavy steel hatch to creak as the rusted hinges were forced to allow entry, requiring large amounts of strength to move the material. A calming light as the flame atop the hunters torch crackled revealed a growing trail of aged blood heading down into the blackness below.
As he descended, the bloody trail increased, eventually leading him into a small corridor filled with four different metal doors, one with the trail of blood leading to it. rattling filled the room whilst the hunter turned the knob on the door, only to discover a thin line of metal attaching the door to the frame with signs of welding along the bit of metal. With a small ruffling of his and Gehrman's cloaks, he withdrew the moonlight blade before it was covered in incandescent blue and thrusted forwards, blowing the door off of the hinges, leaving only small scraps of dull, burnt steel and the room beyond.
Old, blood stained, iron shackles hanged from the ceiling of the room, rattling away due to the force of the moonlight blast, before stopping as the hunter grabbed onto the jangling chains. The stains of blood covered the walls and floors, with the colour having turned to a dark maroon, rather than that of a crimson shade. In the centre of the room was a rotting, blood soaked wooden chair with shackles covering the legs and the armrests, both of which were in closed shut around the mangled and chewed limbs that barely resembled the hands that they once were. An old partially rotting corpse sat in the chair, the atrophied body appeared frozen in agony as the hollow, lifeless eye sockets hid behind small remaining tufts of hair splattered in blood.
The overhanging remains of once brown hair was broken by small horns that were emerging from the front of his forehead, parts of which had seemingly been sawn off. The gloved hand of the hunter pushed the face up for any other recognisable features, the moment of movement had causing sacks of bodily fluid to burst and leak from the head and the mostly exposed spine with sickening squelching, however, the sound did not even cause the last hunter to feel fazed or hesitation in continuing the action. As he drew his gloved hand back, a rather small rat tried to bite into his flesh after emerging from an empty socket to defend its home, the hunter automatically reacted by throwing the living ball of fur and teeth into a wall, causing the breaking of its back and making it squeal an irritating, high-pitched noise of agony from the small creature, before the injuries to its organs finally killed it, the body staying still as the blood made its way to the hunter as he stood in a praying motion before speaking a single word.
"Umbasa."
The torch in his hand turned the body alight with the fluids acting as fuel, causing the painfilled screeches of a rat colony in red, hot agony filled the warehouse, which gradually lessened as they died, leaving only ashes and the rats drained blood echoes, alongside the stains of the past of the actions that had happened in the room. The moment he entered the adjustment room a small smile grew on his face due to the location being habitable, there was a single, old mattress and a matching pillow that was caked in dust, there was a single chair made of metal. Off to the side of the room was a small bathroom that contained a shower, which only used cold water, and an old mirror, which he proceeded to clean using an old rag, not noticing any changes in appearance before returning to the place he would sleep in.
The duo of capes, as well as his coat were placed on the back of the chair, before he moved to the mattress and sat down on the spring filled bedding with his bag placed beside it with his trusted hat onto and his weaponry to its side alongside it. The yearning for sleep overtook him as the heavy eyes on his face began to close as his breathing became rested and steady, until he began to dream. They were no more than nightmares, forcing him to relive the torture and agony throughout his stay in the blood drenched city.
Every moment he spent in the nightmares was a retelling of his different moments in his tale, and every experience that he had lived through. The crushing pain as a titanic arm grinded the life out of him was accompanied by the feeling of his bones turning into dust beneath the weight of the rough skin, the tumours, adding weight to the near indomitable arm before it changed to another scene. The bubbling of his skin and burning of his flesh from the pyre he was forced upon by the maddened villagers was agonising, his eyes bubbled before bursting from the heat as darkness over took his sight and his senses were dulled, before changing to another circumstance. The moment it he could see once again, the feeling of sharp metal cutting against his stomach registered, with its own distinct type of burning alongside it, the air was filled with the sound of wet, flesh smacking from where his guts had fallen from within his body, the entrails having gained access due to the open, axe inflicted wound tracing the middle of his body, the very same axe soon planted into his skull as it broke through the skull and brain, forcing the hunter to wake in a cold, clammy sweat with his shirt having become stuck to his moistened skin, alongside his left arm becoming that of a beast with dark blue fur, before returning to that of his usually human arm.
Groaning filled the area as a messenger appeared from the cement ground next to the bedding, the pale fingers on its hand griped the index and middle fingers as a way to comfort the hunter as it stared at him with a gaping face where e the eyes were replaced with black, wrinkly skin. A small, rattling chuckle escaped his chapped lips as he watched the messenger bob slightly as if it was in water, before he finally spoke though a tired, exhausted voice, the feeling of his throat was painful with each word, and yet it was getting easier to speak.
"I'm fine, just some small nightmares. I'll be fine."
He began to unbutton his shirt with the sweat-drenched attire being slowly stripped from his upper body, showing the various amounts of scars, burns and gouged, missing flesh over his body. Throwing the sweat ridden garment over to the side on the stone floor, his eyes closed as his back lay on the mattress, softly muttering to himself as his consciousness once again faded, leaving him open to his nightmares once again.
Gnashing jaws tore into his flesh as decaying toxins forced its way into the bloodstream and throughout the body body as the blood-starved beast continued its assault, clawing at his flesh in desperation for his living blood, until the scene faded with the feeling of his eyes being carved and forced from their sockets with an old, sharpened, unsanitary scalpel, causing a vile, metallic burning to be inflicted upon the inside of his skull, all whilst sublime blood welled up within the forming crevice, creating bloody tears falling from the hollow holes which began to trail down his face and neck as he forwards into darkness as the remaining stringy stem behind his arm was ripped from the skull in agonisingly pain using the dirty hands of the knife wielder. It had changed again, with the first sensation being that of being shocked from the numerous amounts of electricity forced into his system as he was held by the skeletal dark beast's furred fingers, only for it to stop as the merciless arms slammed him to the solid ground beneath it and issuing a loud crack from the dying hunters vertebrae as it twisted oddly before blood drenched the ground from both his mouth and nose.
A roaring scream that tore at his throat left his lips upon awakening once more. A gathering of more messenger had appeared beside him in an attempt to comfort him as he began scratch viciously at a fractural pattern on his left arm until he drew blood with skin beginning to clump under his nails. The permanent scar felt as if he was once again receiving the electricity that had caused its existence. As he continued his panicked endeavour, small blue sparks of arcane and electricity began to form with him unknowing of their existence with only the small, decrepit messengers noticing them. Just as soon as they came, they disappeared the very moment the hunter had regain his composure.
Moving out of the small room and into the main storage room of the warehouse in a slow walk, he had discovered that it had once again turned to dawn due to the bright orange light he could see through the small, cloudy window covered in webs. At once he rushed to his small hovel, before entering the bathroom without his newly discarded apparel as he begun to run the cold shower, the water having taken a small amount of time to run through the aged pipes before forcing its way through the rusting shower head. The way he had scrubbed over his body was unrelenting in an extreme method to remove as much sweat and grime from his heavily damaged body, which had granted him the knowledge that the shade of his skin had become a paper white all over his blemished body with only a small tint of colour in the skin covering him.
He had intensely scrubbed his golden and raggedy hip long hair, which was far more difficult as some of the hair had become entwined with each other and had formed different knots, ties and clusters from the amount of grease, blood and sweat that had come to lacquer the hair which could only really be called an unruly mane. The flakes of long dead skin from his scalp and dried blood that had belonged to others was quickly washed away by the torrential water. For the very first time in forever, his freshly washed feet met with the solid floor, which had felt odd from the amount of time he had spent with them covered by other materials. The relatively soft skinned feet had begun to make way for the exit, only to have abruptly stop in front of the mirror.
It was a golden light between the strands of his fringe had caught his attention in the reflective surface. After he had moved the ragged locks, he stared deeply into the depths of his slightly blood shot eyes, he discovered that a slightly bright, gold sheen that covered the irises in almost their entirety, however, the original blue was visible beneath the luminescent sea, and somehow did not create a green visage . After he Ignored the growing, dark purple bags under his eyes and the golden glow, he was drawn towards the centre, which caused him to stare deeper into the blood red pupils as they looked back in kind. Calloused fingers had begun to trace the very thin and jagged scars around the ocular organs from where they had been removed from their housing.
After he had regained movement, his feet had carried him into the room he had slept in as the uncovered feet continued to make wet slapping noises against the unfurnished flooring in his journey over to the old, seemingly bottomless bag. Rustling had filled the small room as he rummaged around in its depths until he had withdrawn a simple, only slightly bloody towel and the decorative old hunter attire, alongside a small hood to cover his head whilst travelling in public in case he found people h had once known. The final boot went onto his foot with a small jingle from belts and brass that covered both his upper form and the trousers, before he finished by placing both his and Gehrman's capes atop his short coat, with the latter of the capes touching the solid grounds grey surface. A small adjustment of the high collar of larger cape was the finale adjustment before he pulled his hood down over his head.
The buckles on the belts of the right leg sung as he made his way out of basement area again before, for the first time, closing the metal hatch with a loud, echoing slam that cut through the empty air before becoming deathly silent. The exact moment that he walked out of the old warehouse a red tint once again covered the world around him, dyeing the sun a dark red and replacing the world with a near identical replica, but rather than humanity filling the land, creations of the old blood roamed its depths and around derelict buildings. A single roar filled the air as a beast patient like those in Old Yharnam was staring at him in bloodlust with the maw dripping clear, bubbling saliva from in between the yellowing teeth. The creature lunged at him, only to receive a leather-covered fist into the beasts gut, before breaking through the flesh and bone as the hunter forced it farther upwards under the sternum, until he gripped the putrid heart in his grasp, before he yanked it out violently as he was covered in viscera and gore.
The same phenomena as the scourge beast had occurred as the hunter watched it rot and melt into a pile of blood, as well as leaving what appeared to be very small blood gems that were unsuitable to upgrade weaponry with but could be passed off easily as deep red jewellery. The hunter only muttered to himself as he begun to walk forwards into the beast filled world with the Rakuyo at the ready for any beasts he many encounter in his travels as he began to decipher the otherworldly plane around.
"So, if I want to hunt, I think I just have to think about coming here… interesting. Bodies act like back in Yharnam, but decay far faster and into nothing but blood and, presumably items rather than the bodies."
A large twisted grin grew on his scarred face as a low cackling escaped his dry throat, the rough sound still being odd to him and far less painful.
"I guess this is going to be so much fun, right?"
The growing laugher echoed around the area as he started to run through the duplicate docks, quickly followed by the howls of pain as merciless combat with the Rakuyo and Evelyn that was in the hunters hands, who willingly charging into the fray and chaos of the world around him without a hint of fear.
Once he left what he had begun to call 'The Shattered Nightmare' due to the ruined state of the city, all of the blood covering him from the creatures disappeared into him, only taking notice of the occurrence, rather than the hour of night he had found himself in, before turning the Burial Blade back into its separate parts as he placed them back under the cape and onto his back. As far as he could tell, there was no living person around before he begun to climb atop one of the buildings nearby as to shorten the amount of time taken to travel. Heavy footsteps echoed through the blissfully silent night as he began to run over tiles and near an open docking point, only to stop once a large explosion sounded throughout an area nearby.
Heading over to the epicentre and a few other roofs, he found himself looking through a warehouse's window and finding a large amount of people in the same grey, almost military-like uniform with masks covering the top of their faces, each holding weaponry of the same designs, ranging from swords to automatic rifles in the area where the sounds of conflict could be heard. Deciding to have a small amount of fun, the hunter puled out a monoscope as he lined up with the average sized window before he pulled down the magnifier to his sides and ran forwards towards the edge, before jumping and shaping his body almost like that of a javelin as a smile formed.
The sound of shattering glass filled the area as the hunter spun through the air as his curved blade was taken out from under his cape and, as a result, revealing himself to those in the warehouse and alerting them to his presence. A grunt released a scream of pain as the silver, curved blade pierced him through the chest and left a gaping hole into the chest with viscera painting the wall and boxes behind the bleeding man just as the hunter swiftly attached the shaft of the scythe with a swift click, before the raised grip was dragged upwards swiftness and implanting into the floor on the opposite side of the grunt and splitting the upper body into nearly two halves as shredded organs and bones fell from the loosened flesh.
The presumed leader of the group in a slightly different uniform with more red shouted to the others, the voice ripping through the silenced area, and was followed up with gunfire.
"Kill the human! If we wait any longer, it may affect the grand plan!"
The scythe blade ran through another grunt's neck, the head being ripped off in a clean fashion as highly pressurised blood rushed and formed a macabre fountain, before having to dodge as another one of his comrades ran at him with a swords. The blade the man held was shattered as it impacted the scythes edge, before he was forced to drop the remaining hilt as his arm travelled through the air with the grunt being forced to his knees in agony. Blood gushed as a hand tore into the grunts side and making him writhe in desperate agony, to only have relief as the opposing limb had withdrawn the lungs and trachea from the entry point with even more sanguine having lathered the floor beneath him whilst his life faded, the surviving enemies gaging as acidic bile dragged up their throat at the scene.
Other worldly metal gleamed under the artificial lighting as the Burial Blade flew through the air but only having caused an arm to be severed from the owner, before the grunt received a quick slash across their chest diagonally with the Rakuyo's katana blade, which was then proceeded by the slightly-tinted red blade penetrating at the centre of the sternum, shattering the bone and emerging from the back in a fresh coating of crimson, before pressing in the thin handguard which released the small blade at the handles base. The wakizashi tore into another's chest with a sickening slop of tearing flesh and crunch of bone, before having to do a fast twirl that had allowed him to avoid some automatic fire from the leader, as well as allowing him to rip the blades from his recent victims and slashing them across the throats with the near perfect blades in one notion. As both weapons locked back together, he drew his pistol and moved forwards slightly before shooting another quicksilver round from Evelyn through the man's leg and causing the bone to shatter with a blood curdling scream that ran from deep recesses of the man's chest, before another went through the man's hand with the weapon dropping from the damaged limb.
Glittering tears trailed over man's face as he spoke in a trembling voice of fear, small strands of thick mucus dripped from the nostrils which covered the man's mouth .
"W-what the hell are-"
The sentence was cut off as the regained Burial Blade impaled him through the bottom of his gullet and through the top of his head alongside some amount of brain matter along with it, only for the soft, gelatinous material to fall off as it sled out of the skull swiftly. The writhing blood of the dead crawled its way onto and into his body as he watched the blood on the blade cover his hands and sunk into his exposed wrist. The scythe was hefted over his shoulder comfortably as he headed out of the building into a larger battle field and left the nearly bloodless bodies in the place that they fell with a small smile gracing his paled face as another explosion rang out.
Many different people that were fighting was the sight he was greeted with the moment he exited the building, mostly consisting of people in attire similar to the people he had fought earlier. The most prominent scene was a ginger haired man in a long dapper white coat which was topped by a black bowler hat atop his head, who was in combat with a blond man in an open shirt that showed the abs beneath, he also had a monkey tail coming from out of back. The dapper man was defending the blows that came his way with a cane with expert easy, the red and golden num-chuks being repealed cleanly despite the blasts that were coming from within them. The rustling and clanking of items in the bag filled the area from his little brown bag before he pulled out a thick glass bottle of blue liquid. The scent of anaesthetic filled the air once the silver cap was removed, the numbing liquid travelled down his throat swiftly as the world became numb to him and his body seemingly turned spectral.
Every step he had taken over the battlefield went unnoticed by all, allowing him to occasionally help another fighter that seemed familiar to him. She was dressed in almost all black, with the occasional white covering clothing covering parts of her body, the most noticeable feature however was the bow atop her head and the slit golden eyes, almost like that of a cat. Each strike surprised both parties and only made contact with places that would not permanently cause harm, just a lot of pain in the instance and the inability to fight.
The hunter began to move from the battle field as he felt the sense of feeling return to his system. One he was in a more isolated area on the battle ground, he turned to a blue mist as he quickstepped out of the way of a thin, sharp blade that had aimed for his head, however it still grazed against his cheek and drew blood from the fine edge of the weapon . The sight he was met with once he turned to his assailant was that of a small girl with multi-coloured hair, with pink on the right that had just a few highlights of white covering it, and just plain brown hair on the right. She held a parasol with a faint gleam of the metal sword inside it before she sheathed it in its entirety, all whilst watching the hunter with a pink left eye and a white right eye.
Grins grew on both of their faces as they ran towards each other with the intent to kill or incapacity the other under the broken moons pale light that shone overhead.