Chapter 2: In the Deep End

Paleblood Pursuit Arc

Disclaimer: I don't own Bloodborne, this is just a Fanfiction.

Featured Music: "Hidden Skill Training" - The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess OST. Scene 1 (First Half).

A night of the hunt that is seemingly never-ending and a city full of beasts to eradicate.

Yharnam.

A city on the brink of extinction; a young man awakes in the midst of this bloodshed and confusion and forms a contract with a blood minister. When he awakes he is cut down and reawakens inside a seemingly artificial construct which is called the Hunter's Dream. An old wheelchair-bound man living there introduces himself as Gehrman and offers the amnesiac some training to prepare him.

With only a single name to go on from his earlier contract, Stewart Forbes accepts his new mentor's training and, with it, hopes to uncover answers of his past.

Scene 1

"No, no... that simply will not do..."

Stewart gasped in pain once more as he was sent careering across the garden's beautiful flower bed, rolling across it on his side. He grunted as he pushed himself back up off the ground and rubbed at the trickle of blood dripping down the side of his mouth. The intimidating form of Gehrman stood over him, casting his shadow in a looming manner. Unable to see his eyes or even his facial expression, Stewart's own eyes narrowed back at him as he re-affixed the grip on his Hunter's Axe and set his legs apart.

"You are my apprentice," Gehrman spoke again, his cockney accent common but commanding. He spun the Burial Blade he held around his hands expertly, seemingly familiar with its presence, and re-opened his mouth to continue as he advanced on the grit-toothed young man. "I will not have you die so easily," the veteran hunter explained very briefly as he approached the youth. A grin re-appeared on his dark complexion however, watching past his long greyed hair. "Not that your life really matters that much anymore..."

Stewart raised a curious eyebrow up at his mentor's words, unsure on the meaning but before he could even consider them he widened his eyes at the sight before him.

CLANG

Stewart's axe clashed with Gehrman's scythe noisily; he shot his new weapon up in a diagonal motion to block the older man's blade with his own. The young hunter's teeth grit even harder than before when he felt the pure presence and strength his opponent commanded.

There was no way he would be able to break through.

Unless...?

With that thought searing through his mind, Stewart broke the defensive hold and leapt to his right in a forward roll of evasion. Gehrman's eyes snapped in his direction as he cut the flower bed that his opponent was previously laying on. The elderly warrior grew a small grin to his face as he watched him leave his field of vision.

"Yes... very good," the old man grinned out in a light compliment. "A hunter must indeed be fleet of foot." He claimed boldly as he spun the Burial Blade once more, re-righting his position as he did so. With barely any effort at all however, the expert fighter snapped the blade of his weapon in his undefended rear.

CLANG

Once more they clashed but this time in different positions; Stewart's eyes widened when his attempted back-attack was seemingly easily thwarted by the older warrior's defence. He grunted as he back-shifted to his own rear in quick evasion, evading the spinning Burial Blade's inevitable counter-attack. Gehrman turned the rest of his body around to face his enemy but regained his seemingly disappointed frown when he could no longer find him. It didn't stay long however; his confident expression re-appeared as quick as his acrobatics did when he felt movement high above him.

The elderly man opted not to move in his own attempt of evasion however when the wide-eyed form of Stewart suddenly descended down from his crown, Hunter's Axe held high into the air. The young hunter grit his blood covered teeth and suddenly exhaled a grunt as he smashed his weapon into the ground where his mentor was standing, back-end first.

"Did I get him...?" The young man gasped in his mind as his eyes darted around in search for the old man.

Unfortunately however he could not find him.

Where-?

Stewart's eyes widened when he realised the truth but, albeit, too late.

SQUELCH

"Ah-!" Stewart could only gasp out, his eyes widened for the umpteenth time; Gehrman, seemingly re-appeared dead ahead in front of him, had sunk the scythe end of his Burial Blade directly into his lower stomach, easily drawing blood. Time seemed to slow down for the shock-expressed fledgling hunter before, finally, Gehrman yanked his weapon out and spun around to roundhouse kick him in his wounded area.

Stewart could barely grunt in pain as he rolled across another of the garden's many flower beds, staining it red in his wounded form. When his sailing finally halted as he slammed into the wall behind him, his vision began to blur as he attempted to look upward. As before the dark form of his new mentor approached him, slow as can be.

"You may be quick on your feet...," he began lightly as he unpaired trick weapon he carried, a loud clang echoing in the dream. "But your killing ability is hindered."

Unable to find the energy with which even to respond, Stewart could only stare upward at his teacher, gasping continually in effort to stay conscious.

"Here."

Stewart blinked down at the blurry form of the item he was seemingly tossed; a syringe seemingly filled with blood.

"W-Wha-?"

"A blood vial," Gehrman replied very briefly in an upward nod of his head. "It will soon become your best friend out there in the hunt." He explained.

With shaking blood covered hands, Stewart grunted as he gripped the syringe and, with no explanation, shoved the needle into his left leg.

The effects were almost immediate.

A large amount of his pain died down and he gasped when it did; his eyes widened as his vision began to focus once more. He turned his shock-expressed form up to face the grinning Gehrman; the elderly mentor nodded down at him, as if reading his thoughts.

"Stand up, good hunter," he commanded very softly; the younger hunter nodded as he raised himself up, staring down at his once injured stomach, now suddenly healed. "Behold the work of blood ministration," the old hunter chuckled knowingly, eliciting a surprised blink from the listening Stewart. "You must get to the point where you no longer need to rely on these," he admonished very lightly however, regaining a hardened frown.

Stewart turned briefly to face him and nodded in silent acknowledgement.

"When you are injured, even very lightly, you can restore some of that lost health with what we hunters call 'rally'," Gehrman began in his next light lecture. "It is only there for a short time but if your footwork is adequate enough you will be able to evade all attacks and gain even further momentum."

"Isn't that just reckless though?" Stewart finally opened his mouth to respond, raising a curious eyebrow upwards. Gehrman chuckled back in reply, briefly shutting his eyes.

"For the young, perhaps," he began almost humorously before continuing. "But I and everyone I have taught have made excellent use of 'rallying'," the First Hunter claimed boldly. "You will never be a good hunter without it."

"Yes sir." The newly restored youth nodded in acknowledgement once more.

"I didn't see you use your pistol at all either," he continued as he used his free bony finger to point down to the youth's firearm lying on his belt. Stewart's eyes snapped down to widen at it hanging on him, lightly surprised. "If you can tell when my attack is coming...," the elderly warrior began sagely before grinning more openly as he elaborated further. "A well placed gunshot will open me up for a visceral attack."

"'Visceral attack'?" Stewart parroted, blinking forward.

"Some hunters liked to call it the 'parry' technique," Gehrman claimed as he re-joined the rest of his Burial Blade to his back to fold his coated arms together. "Visceral attacks also work directly with rallying; you can turn the tide of battle with this."

Stewart nodded once more dutifully, brow furrowing as he listened.

"Well then... good hunter," Gehrman finally finished with as his grin lightly expanded. "Isn't it time you got going...?"

Even as he entered the first floor sickroom he couldn't help but feel a worried sense of displacement.

The wolf, he thought.

Further ahead, wasn't it?

"Are you... out on the hunt?"

Stewart's eyebrows lifted in light surprise; he about-turned his body to find the source of the voice directly around him. Behind him stood a half-broken windowed double-door, seemingly leading into the clinic from whence he had came.

"U-Um, y-yes," the young man smiled nervously in response as he craned his neck to see through the very small broken patches of the window, albeit unsuccessfully. "Were you the one who rescued me?"

"Then I'm very sorry, but... I can't open this door," she merely continued on, as if he hadn't spoken at all. Stewart could only blink in confusion as he listened further. "I am Iosefka. The patients here in my clinic must not be exposed to infection," the newly re-introduced doctor explained, a light pain in her voice. Stewart's frown softened up as he listened. "I know that you hunt for us, for our town, but I'm sorry. Please... this is all I can do."

As if to further elaborate on her words, she seemingly pushed a robust glass vial through one of the many open holes in the window. Stewart reached forward with his free left hand and gently took it from her, inspecting it.

Seemingly a blood vial.

But... the colour of it...?

"Now, go. And good hunting."

"Um... thank you, doctor," Stewart managed to murmur lightly out as he frowned on forward. "I owe you." The young hunter claimed in a light, appreciative smile before hesitantly turning 'round to leave.

Exposed to infection, he thought.

Were there even others in there?

He didn't remember seeing anyone else at the time...

He shook his ruminations off and began to hug the wall as he descended down the stairs and entered the same clinic in which he had been previously cut down.

The sounds of flesh being eaten and scraped filled his ears, even if far off.

Yeah, he thought; it was still here.

He shut his eyes and attempted to slow his fiercely beating heart before steeling his courage and bending his body low. He soon began to creep forward across the quiet wooden floor, eyes narrowed forward at his prey.

He was a hunter.

Just as sensei Gehrman taught me, he thought to himself.

Use the cover of night.

Almost unwilling to believe it however; he soon began to slowly approach his once intimidating enemy and, with his eyes widening, he rose up the Hunter's Axe threateningly. A shadow soon loomed over the wolf-like beast and, perhaps noticing, slowly turned its head around to eye him with its hungry yellow orbs.

Now!

SMASH

Stewart brought his Hunter's Axe down with all the strength his right arm could command. A strange and loud sound echoed throughout his mind and through the clinic, leaving the grunting and bleeding wolf on its belly, seemingly collapsed. Stewart's eyebrows lifted up when he saw it.

Could it be?

The visceral attack!

The young hunter-in-training quickstepped forward and, purely on instinct, shot his right hand forward to attack with. His Hunter's Axe bizarrely and temporarily left his grip completely, seemingly disappearing into thin air, allowing him room to attack with his bare hand. He stuffed his right arm through the wolf's back shoulder-blades and called out loudly in a battle cry as his face was covered in its similarly roaring blood.

SQUELCH-SMASH

With a single and final push, he forced the beast off of his dominant arm, sending it rolling and bleeding across the wooden floor roughly. Gasping with effort and completely shocked at the proceedings, Stewart turned his eyes slowly down to his right arm to find the Hunter's Axe re-appeared safely in his grip.

Sensei Gehrman was right, he thought to himself in his wide-eyed state.

I can do this, he continued on, his morale raising.

His once intimidating enemy now lay in a broken and pained heap of bones and blood; he stood victorious and raised up his left free open palm to his eyes, frowning back at it. Soon however he clenched his fingers together in a determined fist and turned his eyes forward, a small morale-infused grin taking over his features.

–

2

Loud coughing, echoed down past the ladder he climbed made Stewart's brow furrow as he listened.

Was that a person?

When he made the final approach he quickly surveyed the area as fast as he could.

A small form barked at the lit window; seemingly the source of the loud coughing. Stewart's eyes narrowed forward at the dog-like creature that barked at the voice; the grip on his Hunter's Axe strengthened, readying himself for a fight. The creature seemed to finally take note of his appearance and, turned to face him very slowly. The pair stared one another down in a gaze that felt like minutes, even hours before, finally, the beast-like dog barked out once more as it leapt forward to attack.

Quick as can be, Stewart quickstepped to his right and narrowly avoided the beast's attack before spinning in a horizontal slash with his axe as it passed him. The young hunter's movement was paused temporarily, stuck in his attack animation before his eyes darted to his far left, as if listening intently. The dog gave out one whimper as it fell the ground, rolling across the cement; it soon fell through the air down the ladder after its former enemy. Relaxing his stance, his enemy having been defeated, Stewart briefly turned his eyes back before re-facing the front and softening his expression.

Along with the bright light of the paned window before him, Stewart suddenly spied a lone lantern in the midst of it all. Surprised, he turned his blinking eyes down toward it and soon approached it, tilting his head at it.

Were these the lanterns that lead back to the dream?

Without even thinking, the youth leaned his free left finger down and clicked something inside the lantern. It immediately lit up before him and he couldn't help but smile.

He often wondered why he knew all of this.

Turning his eyes upward to the lit-up window before him however he let curiosity take hold of him and soon approached the window. Frowning, he raised up his free left backhand to knock on the frame enveloping the window. Before he could reach it however, a voice interrupted him and his eyebrows lifted up in surprise as it did.

"Oh, you must be... a hunter, and not one from around here either," the voice began softly through the window. "I am... Gilbert," the strange accent spoke, finally introducing itself. "A fellow outsider."

"Outsider...?" Stewart murmured out dreamily in response, unsure of his words somehow. "Um, y-yes, I'm... Stewart." He called forward in his re-affirming nod, a small smile growing on his face.

"Please... come 'round to the door on the right," Gilbert's voice instructed very softly; Stewart blinked in light surprise before tracing his eyes in the man's stated direction. "I will unlock the door from here."

Should he...?

To trust a strange man in a new city seemed so...

But he saved this man, maybe he just wanted to repay him?

So many conflicting thoughts flew through his mind.

"Sensei Gehrman would want me to..." He thought to himself as he nodded forward. "Fine, let's do it."

Even as he entered the building's small foyer his nerves still ached at him badly, as if this was a mistake.

And a big one at that.

A quiet whirring made him snap his eyes to his left and, dead ahead, a wheelchair-bound man drove into the foyer with him. His posture was contrastingly lower than his new partner's and he smiled lightly on up at Stewart invitingly.

"Greetings," Gilbert re-introduced himself with as he smiled warmly. "Come this way, please," he gestured with a free hand. His wheelchair whirred as he turned it, seemingly with his other hand, and led the frowning young hunter into his living room. As Stewart walked in he kept an eye on the older man before him, taking in his appearance. "Please, take a seat," he called over his shoulder in his smile; Stewart nodded and placed his Hunter's Axe and pistol across his belt, laying himself to sit down on one of the many chairs offered to him. He watched the quiet Gilbert whirr himself across into the kitchen, seemingly smiling behind his words.

"Take any milk or sugar?"

Stewart blinked; was he talking about tea?

Tea, in this situation.

He couldn't help but chuckle before nodding almost instinctual.

"Um y-yes, milk and two please." He called back over in his own smile.

Finished with his preparation, the older resident of Yharnam smiled as he whirred himself back into the room, now carrying two mugs. He handed one to the similarly smiling Stewart.

"Be careful; it's hot," he warned him, eliciting a light chuckle from the young hunter. "You must have had a fine time of it; Yharnam has a special way of treating guests," Gilbert continued on their conversation from earlier, his frown re-appearing on his face. "I don't think I could stand if I wanted to, but I'm willing to help, if there's anything that can be d-" He began once more before widening his eyes and coughing out suddenly. Stewart winced very lightly as he listened, his worries growing. "Don't worry," Gilbert waved off the youth's obvious worries with a light smile. "I've had this illness with me since my teenage years; it's not contagious in any way."

"It's not that, that worries me." Stewart admitted in a light chuckle with a small smile of his own.

"This town... it is cursed," Gilbert suddenly interjected with however, another grave frown attached to his expression. "Whatever your reasons might be, you should plan a swift exit," he explained once more before re-narrowing his eyes forward and nodding at him. "Whatever can be gained from this place... will do more harm than good, I assure you."

"Honestly I'm not really sure... what I'm looking for...," Stewart began in a light, tired and defeated smile as he lowered his eyes in conjunction with his tone of voice. He soon re-raised them to face his new companion however, taking in his short brown hair and simple clothes. "But there is something."

"Yes?"

"Have you ever heard of... 'Paleblood'?"

"'Paleblood' you say...," Gilbert murmured out as he turned his eyes to the small coffee table next to him, as if pondering quietly to himself. He shook his head however as he re-raised his eyes to face his speaking partner. "Never heard of it; sorry," the wheelchair-bound man apologised in his frown. Stewart turned his own eyes down in light defeat. "But if it's blood you're interested in..."

"Y-Yes?" The young hunter managed to gasp, surprised.

"You should try the Healing Church," he informed very quickly in his frown. Stewart listened dutifully and respectfully. "The church controls all knowledge on blood ministration, and all varieties of blood." He explained very briefly, soon eliciting a wide-eyed frown from the listening Stewart.

Blood ministration?

The old man that drew his contract was a minister if he recalled correctly!

"Across the valley to the East of Yharnam lies the town of the Healing Church, known as the Cathedral Ward," Gilbert explained once more very briefly as he took a quick sip of his tea. "Deep within the Cathedral Ward is the old grand cathedral," he continued on before re-gaining a small smile on his face as he tilted his head very lightly. "The birthplace of the Healing Church's 'special blood'... or so they say." He briefly managed to finish in a light chuckle before suddenly erupting into another small coughing fit.

Stewart winced and made to get up off his chair to assist the disabled man but, using his free hand, Gilbert waved him off silently, shaking his head mid-cough before finally re-settling down.

"Yharnamites don't share much with outsiders... and normally they wouldn't let you even near the place but...," he began to explain as he took a deep breath in, presumably to help settle his body back down to normal. He re-raised his eyes and frowned hard at the listening Stewart. "The hunt is on tonight," Gilbert reminded the youth, narrowing his eyes forward. "This might be your chance..."

Gilbert's right, he thought.

This is the best chance he had found yet.

"It's all thanks to you," Stewart smiled this time in his appreciative nod. Taken by surprise, Gilbert could only blink back at him. "Whatever can I do to repay you?"

"Repay me?" The foreign man could only chuckle back in response, still seeming surprised by his words. "You're far too kind stranger," he laughed in his friendly smile. "You're already doing what you can, are you not?"

His reply surprised Stewart.

He was?

"You're the last hunter I've seen in... years, decades even." He explained further in his warm smile. Stewart's eyes widened in shock-expressed horror.

Was that true?

"Everyone else these days... they're not even human," Gilbert claimed, his smile fading in place of a sad frown as he turned his eyes to the window. "You will receive no mercy out there on those streets, Stewart," the foreign man warned him dutifully as he re-turned his eyes to face him. "Please... bear that in mind, won't you?"

"I will," the young hunter smiled appreciatively once more before taking a quick swig of the tea he was granted earlier and standing up. He walked on over to the surprised Gilbert and offered his free left hand, smiling down at him. "Thank you... for opening up your home to me and for all the information you've just given me."

"It's... no problem," Gilbert chuckled, waving the matter off with a shake of his head as he took the youth's hand in his own, shaking it. "I know what it's like being in a strange land with no-one to call 'friend'," he smiled, nodding similarly as he watched the youth take his hand back and turn, presumably for the foyer once more. "See and be careful out there, will you?"

Stewart merely turned his head half-way 'round to face him, halting his walk as he did so. He raised up his left back-fist and grinned at his new friend as he did, his fingers clenched together in a brotherly-like gesture. With nary another word uttered between them, Stewart headed out for the door, his morale re-infused from his meeting.

He finally had a lead.

The Healing Church.