Chapter 8: Redirection; to Find Lost History
Answers in the Dark Arc
Disclaimer: I don't own Bloodborne, this is just a Fanfiction.
Featured Music: "Hunter's Dream" - Bloodborne OST. Chapter Briefing.
"Laura Plays The Piano" - Silent Hill II OST. Scene 1 (First & Second Halves)
"Dark Forest" - Midnight Syndicate. Scene 3 (First Half).
"Alive Inside" - The Walking Dead OST. Scene 4.
In Stewart's investigation of the Healing Church he has uncovered very little in spite of his major progress through Yharnam's Cathedral Ward. While in the grand cathedral he comes face to face with the last remaining sane person alive within its ranks; a vicar by the name of Amelia. Before he can even exchange any words with her however she turns on him as if a beast on the field; Stewart wastes no time in defending himself and cuts her down.
For his efforts he finally receives the answer that his new companion Alfred had been previously theorising and discussing him with; the password in the gates deep within the ward that leads to Byrgenwerth.
Once said to be the origin of the great Healing Church, Stewart's thoughts race as he makes the final approach to making his first step into forbidden territory; why does he know of the long deceased 'Byrgenwerth Butcher'? And why as Yharnam descends into madness and misery do the Healing Church appear to thrive?
Things in this world, Stewart is learning, are rarely what they seem...
In spite of his urgent thoughts however his next meeting with his ever reliable mentor manages to open his goal, even if very temporarily.
Stewart fixes his eyes on the Cathedral Ward's Oedon Chapel...
Scene 1
"The Healing Church, and the Blood Ministers who belong to it... were once guardians of the hunters, in the times of the hunter... Ludwig. They worked, and forged weapons, in their unique workshop. Today, most ministers don't recall the hunters. And so, heed the message of your forebears...
… Ascend to Oedon Chapel."
Gehrman's strange advice rung deep within his ears and his mind as he turned to the suspiciously now open double doors within the chapel itself. As if triggered by his visit to Old Yharnam the doors seemed to be open now.
But why?
As always, he could not answer the question; he opted to step through the elevator and dealt with many of the insane Yharnamites taking residence. As he made the final approach to the summit, he opened up a chest and discovered a strange little badge; narrowing his eyes down at it he found it quite bright. Cross-like in shape he raised an eyebrow down at it curiously.
A creation of the Healing Church?
Possibly.
Pocketing the badge, he could only speculate as to the goods he would be able to purchase before striding forward to the last double-doors at the end of the corridor. Sure enough as he half-expected, the doors were locked and he clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction.
No way I'm getting through there, he thought.
"So then why did Gehrman-sensei send me up here?"
In spite of his initial words upon their meeting, Gehrman seemed to be focused on assisting the youth in finding answers.
There must be something else hidden here, he thought.
His silent reflections were finally answered when he descended further down, managing to find a crude rock and boulder to drop down to. When he opted to turn into a small corridor, his eyes widened at the find he made.
A huge drop lay below the wooden platforms that held themselves together rather roughly.
What the hell?
His mind raced again at the thought of what could possibly be laying down there in wait.
Could be anything, he thought to himself.
But there must be something.
With that thought driving him on, the youth turned his eyes down to the small wooden platforms beneath him.
There was a way to leap down carefully...
I never liked heights, he thought in a light grimace.
With a tentative step forward, he dropped downward and soon found himself landing nice and centre on the right side of the long wooden platform beneath. With another series of careful but deft drops, Stewart soon managed to find himself on the cusp of landing on the one platform he actually truly cared about. His eyes narrowed down at the platform below; kneeling down to his left leg and extending his Hunter's Torch forward and down he managed to spy the strangely intact double-doors laying below.
What could it all be about?
Only one way to find out...
His heart raced when he pushed apart the two doors he once spied from above, eyes narrowed. With a single grunt they were finally aside of one another and Stewart soon found his path unbarred. Letting nothing else stop him, the youth finally entered the place he was encouraged by his mentor to.
Almost immediately he was hit with a bizarre sense of deja vu.
"What the...?" Stewart murmured as he walked out from the descending staircase.
I know this place, he thought.
His silent suspicions were soon sizzling even further when he pressed slowly on. His hunter weapons and tools were placed on his belt and his eyes swerved around the foggy dreamscape background. The beaten and worn path before him swerved on two paths; one to his right and one dead ahead. Opting to take the one before him he continued onwards and soon found the course straying sharply to his right. A worrying sense of vertigo and hidden fear began to gnaw silently at him as he viewed the shrubbery dotted countlessly around his surroundings.
It can't be, he thought.
Surely not...?
When he finally emerged to the clearing his grown anxiety was soon confirmed.
His eyes widened at the large darkened workshop building looming over him, leant at an angle.
The same angle he remembered.
"But that's..." Stewart began lowly, his mutterings melting into the foggy air.
The Hunter's Dream, he thought.
Strangely, the only thing missing so far that he noticed were the bathtub messengers in the corner to his far left and the gravestones he had previously used to travel from the Hunter's Dream.
What the hell is going on?
Am I being taken for a fool here?
So many questions floated in and out of his head before he could even pin them down with words.
Choosing to press onward the youth steeled his shaken nerves and re-narrowed his eyes. Walking up the winding stairway he used so often, he attempted to ready himself for the sight that was soon behold to him.
Though he expected it, it did very little to ease the growing horror.
Though papers and things lay strewn around the wooden floor and other slight imperfections, it was a complete match.
An abandoned old workshop.
Finally taking further steps forward his narrowed eyes glided across the area and soon double-took; a shining ornament lay hidden in a cabinet to his right. He watched it suspiciously, turning his body to face it and leaned forward; opening the cabinet up with a dusty squeak he allowed his gloved hands to touch the similarly dirty but shining ornament.
Upon closer inspection it was a decorating piece, seemingly for hair of all things.
What was this doing in a workshop?
As if to answer his silent queries however, as he held the ornament in his right gloved hand, he turned his eyes to his left once more to find the leaning and sitting form of a familiar creation indeed.
His eyes widened when he saw the familiar form of the plain doll staring right back at him.
Pressing forward slowly and walking past the unlit lamp behind him he could only stare over at it as he approached the main table. While he stared over at it, laying leant to the side and dressed as he remembered, his eyes snapped down at its laid left hand in its lap.
Did its finger just move?
But this isn't the dream, he thought to himself.
So then...?
An unhealthy, questionable chill ran up his spine as he shook his head away from the sight, opting to turn his examining eyes down on the main table below him.
What he saw trumped even the doll.
A long and spiralling piece of night-black flesh lay on a soft rag on the table below him, covered in fresh ebony liquid.
What the hell is that?
Reaching down, ever so carefully, Stewart's eyes narrowed half-suspiciously and half-curiously. Being careful not to touch the strange flesh or liquid themselves, he used his hands to grasp at the small rag containing it.
Under the rag it still felt warm.
How was that possible?
And where was this thing even from?
So many questions, he thought.
"One thing's for sure...," Stewart murmured to himself as he turned his eyes upward to watch the worn statue behind the long cobweb above him suspiciously. "You're gonna get some questions... Gehrman-sensei."
–
2
"Welcome home, good hunter."
Stewart's eyebrows lifted up as his consciousness regained in tandem with those soft spoken and familiar words. His vision soon fixed itself and he found himself staring back at the smiling and tall form of the Plain Doll before him.
"What is it you desire?" She asked him, smiling down at him.
"Hi...," Stewart greeted in a nervous smile of his own, rubbing the back of his long-haired head as he did so. "I'm sorry about... last time..."
"It is quite all right, good hunter," she smiled softly down at him, her connected fingers and hands joining together at her front lap. "It can be rather surprising for new hunters."
"Y-Yeah I guess so," Stewart chuckled anxiously, chortling in his shut-eyed smile. When he brought his free right arm back down however his eyes re-opened to match his sincere frown. He went into his hunter garb to retrieve the small hair ornament he picked up not minutes earlier. "I... wanted to hand you... this." The youth spoke out in his frown as he extended the ornament forward. The Plain Doll at first blinked at him and then, slowly, down at the decoration piece. He nodded up at her, as if to confirm his intentions and she soon slowly reached forward to grasp at the accessory.
"Wha... what is this...?" She murmured out, her accent strong but spoken softly as ever. She grasped the small treasure in both hands now, rising it to her neck; she shut her eyes quietly, as if to ponder to herself. "I-I can't remember, not a thing, only... I feel...," she began once more before her eyes gradually re-opened as if to perfectly time her words. "A yearning... something... I've never felt before..." The doll murmured out as she reached up with one of her free hands, seeming for her eyes.
Stewart's own eyebrows lifted when he caught a rather large teardrop descend from her eye.
"What's happening to me...?" She could only manage out before continuing. "Ahh... tell me hunter, could this be joy?" She pressed on as she gradually extended her free left hand forward. Stewart's eyes narrowed down at the large teardrop.
It was solid.
As strange as the doll herself, he thought.
He put on a light and wan smile and nodded in confirmation as he took the teardrop from her gratefully.
"I'm just... glad you like it, I guess." The youth could only chuckle. Pocketing the gem to open later, he began to ascend the winding staircase as he usually did, issuing the smiling doll a tip of his hat in greeting.
His smile dissolved as soon as he entered the workshop's building however; when he spied the smiling Gehrman sitting in his wheelchair not far from his position he nodded and pressed on forward.
"Ah... good hunter...," Gehrman greeted him with, ever gripping the trusty cane between his resting legs. "How is the night going...?"
"Enough of the pleasantries," Stewart shot out with rudely and angrily, stepping forward on the curious-faced Gehrman. "You're hiding something from me."
"What are you talking about?" The old man questioned, his smile still ever evident on his easy-going expression.
Reaching into his hunter's garb he pulled out the strangely dry cord he had found inside the abandoned workshop. Without a single word he glared down at his mentor, his anger running high. Gehrman's eyes widened as he caught sight of it, his smile soon fading from his face.
"How did you find that...?" The experienced warrior merely murmured out from his seat, eyes narrowing upward at the youth.
"You sent me up there... remember?" Stewart shot back in his own narrow-eyed frown as he pocketed the cord. Gehrman stared back at him challengingly and the pair shared an awkward and strong silence together.
"Yes...," he agreed in a slow nod. "Yes I did."
Silence once more.
"I want answers," the dreaming hunter reiterated strongly in his narrow-eyed frown. "I'm sick of fumbling around in the dark here."
"Answers...?" Gehrman murmured out before moving his wheelchair forward very slightly. It gave an agonising, loud squeak to life as it approached the youth. Stewart's courage faltered just a little and he took a step back from his mentor. "You have a contract, whelp," the old and knowledgeable old man corrected in a hissing whisper of his words. His smile was now gone in place of a narrow-eyed scowl. "What do you think ye're doing in sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?"
Stewart gasped and took yet another step back, feeling his argument weaken. He soldiered on regardless however. "You can't expect me just to-"
"Expect?"
Gehrman's sudden interruption caused his eyes to widen and for his words to falter mid-sentence.
"I expect you to uphold your bargain of the contract you signed with the blood minister... boy," the intimidating old warrior explained very briefly, soon cornering the youth. Though Stewart narrowed his eyes down at him he soon found his own gaze shaking; he turned his eyes away from his adviser in silent defeat, a frustrated scowl on his lips. "Good...," Gehrman murmured out as he pulled himself back from his leant forward position. Still gripping his trusty cane, he issued his student a final farewell. "See and try not to poke yer nose through any other corners of Yharnam y'shouldn't... eh?"
With that, the cockney-sounding old man about turned on his chair and wheeled off slowly, leaving Stewart to his thoughts. The young man re-turned his eyes to watch his coach and teacher leave, eyes lightly narrowing.
Why isn't he telling me, he thought.
Whatever it is...
… I have to know.
"The password..."
Stewart's ears picked up the sound of a man laughing, muffled behind the doorway. He continued to speak even as he narrowed his eyes at the door and listened on. Unable to hear his crazed mutterings, Stewart re-opened his mouth to continue.
"Fear... the old blood."
The man's mutterings stopped, almost immediately. A chill ran up Stewart's spine and he nearly jumped when he felt the ground rumble very lightly; the double-doors before him soon creaked back to life and parted ahead of him. Fog curled around his ankles and, as he placed his glove on the Hunter's Axe hanging at his belt, the youth's eyes narrowed forward before soon widening in alarm.
What in the name...?
His grip soon softened and he relaxed his stance, only to find a sitting skeleton dressed rather smartly. Merely resting on a fallen piece of debris, its leaning posture seemed to almost be staring at him.
Another chill ran up Stewart's spine as he watched the skeleton wearing the top hat, fear gnawing at him.
Already dead, he thought to himself.
He didn't stay any longer than he had to.
–
3
Yet more fog curled 'round his ankles and Stewart's appreciation for the forbidden woods that he walked in began to lessen.
I hate this place, he thought to himself.
Everything looks the same; it was difficult to tell areas apart.
When he advanced on up a hill however he found a small wooden shack with many pieces of small debris hanging outside it. His head double-took in its direction and his eyes widened when he caught it.
A survivor perhaps?
Pressing forward, a rare smile appearing on his countenance, Stewart ascended upward to knock on the wooden door before him. He opened his mouth to speak but, before he could, a strange voice replied back to him.
"... Oh, a hunter of beasts, are you? Glory be. You know not the value you possess."
Stewart blinked in response.
"... But, more's the pity... the hours of the night are many, and beasts more than I can count. A veritable hunt unending!"
Though his voice seemed refined somehow, Stewart sensed something off about it.
What was he hiding?
"Not even death offers solace, and the blood imbibes you. Ha, a most frightful fate, oh my. But... I'm willing... to do you a kindness."
His words, now spoken with a sickly sweet tone, made Stewart narrow his eyes in half-suspicion, half-curiosity.
"Step lightly 'round to the right of the great cathedral, and seek an ancient, shrouded church."
To the side, he thought.
One of the forking paths he never took?
Where, in the Cathedral Ward?
"... The gift of the godhead will grant you strength... yes... I'm unquestionably certain."
The man's deeper voice spoke lowly and with a strange seeming chuckle to his words. As if to work in tandem with them however, a strange deformed rock of all things was pushed out of one of the openings in the shed. Stewart's eyes widened and he snapped his eyes between the stone and the open part of the shed it was lightly pushed through.
Was this for him?
Stewart watched it carefully before reaching forward with his left hand and soon grasped the rock. Finding it surprisingly dense, Stewart's eyes widened down at it.
Why is it so heavy?
And who is that behind the shack?
Stewart's eyes narrowed thoughtfully and unconvincingly.
"What do I do...?" The youth murmured to himself as he raised the tonsil stone up to his eyes, narrowing them down at it thoughtfully.
Press on to Byrgenwerth...
… or take the lead?
Narrowing his eyes through the darkness he spun his new weapon, Ludwig's Holy Blade, of the blood that had gathered on the large sheath-like blade. Grunting as he placed the huge blade on his back he yanked the smaller sword out from the back of it in an effort-filled scrunch of the side of his face before soon descending down the quiet clearing.
Just as the strange voice had told him, this area definitely had an extra church on the right side of the grand cathedral...
… but why?
In the end Stewart chose to seek the strange nameless man's advice; though dubious and unsure, it was the best lead he had in ages.
The whole thing stunk to high heaven...
But my nose has been out in the cold too long, he thought to himself.
When he approached the small staircase that descended downwards into the church itself, his eyes narrowed forward. Entering tentatively, the young dreaming hunter scanned his eyes across the new area around him.
Seemed more like an entrance to somewhere than a church...
So why was it designed like one, he thought.
He spied the strange, ritual-like bath in the centre of the area. Numerous small candles were lain 'roundabout the bath, as if to prepare for something. Stewart stared down at it attentively, unsure on its intentions.
What could these people be doing here?
His eyes soon raised up to the lit huge double-doors resting before him and they soon narrowed in suspicion.
The place was rather dark for a supposed church, he thought.
Pressing slowly forward Stewart's footsteps echoed lightly throughout the small church and, as he approached the large steel doors before him he frowned on up at them before raising a free left hand to test them.
Locked.
Figures, he thought.
A very strange sound and sight indeed however made the youth snap his eyes to his left; something coloured in a black sizzling aura began to circle his position and the young man's eyes widened.
"What the...?"
Though he managed out a small murmur he could not move in time to evade whatever suddenly grasped him. Stewart gasped and, as he was pulled up by some strange unseen force, he turned his eyes upward to find an outline of something huge grasping at him.
What the hell was that?
His mind began to race at possible scenarios in which this ended.
All in his inevitable death.
He struggled hopelessly before, finally, the spider-like monster pressed down firmly on him within its grip. Stewart's eyes rolled to the back of his head and, for the briefest of moments before he fell unconscious, he managed to finally see the creature before him.
Huge and spider-like indeed, it rested on the huge walls of the church building. Stewart managed to count as many as seven legs and arms it had in its possession before the strange man's words echoed with a veritable laugh within his mind.
"Oh Amygdala, oh Amygdala... have mercy on the poor bastard!"
–
4
"Only I... can be The One! The Prophecy of the Old-"
Stewart gasped awake, his eyes widening in shock. When his blurry vision soon returned to normal he snapped his eyes around himself and his surroundings.
Where am I?
Those words when I just woke up, he thought to himself.
Echoing within his mind... so familiar.
The hunter's torch he held in his free left hand lit up the area around him and he turned his eyes now to finally gauge where he was.
A large pack of shelves lay to his right, dotted with many documents, papers and other things that one would see in an office. To his rear sat bins and another large table. To his immediate left sat a handy lamp; he turned his eyes down to it and clicked his right fingers inside of it to activate it successfully before soon turning his eyes to his right and his front.
Another pair of double-doors lay before him but these were well designed, seemingly similar for an office of some kind.
Where the hell am I?
His thoughts soon returned to the massive spider-like creature that grasped him in its arms and he shuddered, a chill running up his spine.
I'd do anything to avoid encountering that again he thought to himself.
The youth pressed on finally and pushed apart the doors before him, his large great-sword hanging behind on his back. Stepping forward he narrowed his eyes and walked along carefully not to activate any hidden traps; he spied similar shelves and other such buildings littered throughout the seemingly abandoned complex, complete with small lanterns to light the place up.
At least I won't need a torch, he thought to himself.
"Hee, hee, hee, hee!"
Stewart's ears perked the sound of hushed laughter to his front position and he narrowed his eyes at it. Another pair of double-doors lay before him with a large cracked and smashed window.
I know that voice, he thought.
Pressing on to meet with the nameless man behind the doors he frowned back suspiciously and waited for him to continue speaking.
"What a joy it is, to behold the divine. It must be such a pleasure. You're in my debt, you know."
Stewart resisted the urge to snort loudly in response to the man's large and bald face poking out from the smashed window.
Surely he wasn't serious?
"You're nigh on a beast of the field, but here you are, treading a measure with the gods."
The gods?
"Are your feet as fat as your wits...?"
His sudden question made the youth raise a curious eyebrow.
What did he want now?
"Oh, cease this dithering! Take the plunge!" The nameless man grinned safely from behind the window. "Throw yourself to the wolves!"
Though he chuckled on in his words, Stewart merely opted to shake his head in half-disagreement with the dubious bald-headed man.
Parasite, he thought to himself.
Why bother trying to speak to it?
The youth turned on his heel and walked off to further investigate the building.
When he finally found a door that would that unlock, he walked through only to find a strange table-filled room with surprising small tools littered throughout. He passed them, eyes narrowed; a beaker, glass tubes and the like.
Was this an experimentation room?
Where the hell is this?
His racing thoughts struggled to connect themselves together until, finally, he pulled apart the next pair of doors on his right up the small staircase. When his eyes were greeted with the strangest sight he had seen thus far, they widened in alarm.
Suddenly his head began to ache.
And terribly.
Stewart grunted and turned both his arms to grip at his hat-wearing head, taking a few pained steps backward.
What the hell is this?
It was even worse than when he'd watched that vision within the grand cathedral.
"Argh..." Stewart muttered lowly under his breath; he pressed on regardless, gritting his teeth in spite of the pain.
Sure enough, a classroom lay before him.
Dozens of wooden chairs dotted the landscape around the classroom and a dead cadaver lay in the seat opposite the table at the dead centre of the room.
His head ached horribly.
Soon it became near unmanageable and Stewart could only gasp as he dropped to his knees, both arms gripped and all. His eyes scrunched shut as he felt flashes appear to and fro in his subconscious.
"Impressive!"
"I can see now why sensei Gehrman favours you so!"
The voice, so refined and familiar echoed throughout his mind. He continued to gasp in pain as he listened.
"You suspect me... don't you?"
"Yes... I am the Byrgenwerth-!"
Stewart's eyes finally wrenched themselves open and, through tear-stained pain, he turned his head upward and screamed as the agony soon became uncontrollable.
