"Oh, hello. Not a pretty sight, is it?
The true face of the blood-worshipping, beast-purging Healing Church.
But that's not all.
You seek the secrets field by the Nightmare, do you not?
Then here's what you must do.
Climb the Astral Clocktower, and kill Maria.
She hides the real secret…"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Maria. Never before had the Hunter heard of one so loved and feared. The abominations throughout the Research Hall cry for her, begging for her caring touch. The beasts lumbering about flinch at the mere mention of her name.
It is clear that she has not ventured from the clock tower for quite some time.
Through hushed whispers and loud cries, hidden reports and half finished journals, the Hunter came to know the woman quite well. A noble of Cainhurst turned hunter, she quickly rose through the ranks of the healing church, etching herself into legend with the blood of her enemies.
Apparently she's quite gorgeous as well, though the Hunter doubted she could hold a candle to the Doll. He had yet to meet someone who could.
His legs aching from climbing so many flights of stairs, his muscles burning from fighting the grotesque failures surrounding the Lumenwood, the Hunter gathers his strength and pushes open the large doors of the clocktower. They creak and groan in protest, slowly swinging open to reveal a tall figure slumped in it's chair.
The Hunter slowly walks towards it, weapon drawn. There is only one person it could be.
Maria.
A pool of blood lays at her feet, and the Hunter can see a thin red line across the pale skin of her neck. He moves forward cautiously, reaching to grab her wrist for a pulse.
Suddenly, the gloved hand shoots out, grasping his wrist hard enough to send pain shooting up his entire arm. A voice, soft and gently accented, rings through the air like an angel's call. A voice that would warm the Hunter's heart, were it not so familiar. The brim of her tricorn reveals her face as she slowly tilts her head up. "A corpse... Should be left well alone."
The Hunter stares at her face. "K-Karina?!" He gasps incredulously. The same face, the same height, the same dominating strength, yet from a body of flesh and bone! Tears well up in his eyes. "KARINA!" He shouts, pulling her into a tight embrace.
Maria's eyes widen; has this fool hunter lost his mind? Dozens upon dozens of hunters she has slain, all with the same look of startled recognition on their faces, yet all still fought her. They never called her by another name, and certainly didn't hug her. Is this man mad?
"How?!" The Hunter cries. "How did you become human?!" He beams at her, then kisses her fiercely without waiting for an answer. That jerked Maria into action. Drawing her Rakuyo, she knees him in the groin, then jumps back as he slumps to the floor.
"Owww, my Messenger bag!" The Hunter cries in a shrieking voice. He looks up at her, seeing a cocksure gleam in Maria's eyes that the Doll would never have. She's more like to have a haughty, dominant expression, or a motherly one. "You're not Karina," he says stupidly.
"No," Maria replies. "But I know she has a stupid lover."
"How could you know that?"
Maria stares at him.
"Ohhh. HEY-"
Maria dashes forward, kicking his face and sending him tumbling back to the floor. He rolls backwards, springing to his feet. He draws his Chikage from his shoulder, grasping it with two hands without using blood to coat the blade. "A blood blade?!" Maria snarls. "Only those of no skill or honor rely on bloodtinge." The Hunter silently strafes her, shuffling awkardly from his damaged 'Messenger bag.'
Maria rips apart her rakuyo, bringing down the dagger, then the sword in an overhead slash. The Hunter stick out his right arm, and the dagger bounces off of the metal plating on his forearm. His blade turns to meet hers, and they clash in a shower of sparks. Maria tries to stab him with her free hand, only for the Hunter to redirect it and grab her slender wrist. The Hunter's knees start to bend, Maria's size and strength giving her an advantage.
The Hunter's knees go weak as he stares up at Maria's flawless face. Despite the circumstances, he feels himself getting aroused. Over time he has been constantly dominated his love, and now that this woman who is her spitting image is doing the same, he can't help but grow hot.
With no time to waste, he leans forward, slicing open his cheek on Maria's blade. The blood pours down onto his Chikage, and bloody tendrils snake down the blade and harden to trap her sword. She drops the now-useless steel, flinging her dagger to her other hand. With a twist and a slap, the Hunter hits a nerve in her arm, ripping the blade from her slack hand. He tosses it in the air, where is sticks to a rafter, quivering. He holds up his fists and drops into a fighting stance, his cut scarf fluttering off his face. Maria stares briefly, mouth open, before stepping back.
"Very well," She purrs. She slowly pulls off her gloves, revealing long, slender fingers with long, neatly trimmed, slightly sharp nails. The people of Cainhurst are renowned for their nails, as well as their tall statures, pale skin, light hair, and powerful, dominant women.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ten minutes later and Maria has lived up to the stereotypes. The Hunter is a bruised, bloody mess. He feints, slinging a punch from the right before dashing forward to restrain her. His efforts earn him the toe of a sharp, polished high heel to the stomach.
The Hunter regains his footing, dashing forward and slamming his fist into her left cheek, where an ugly bruise forms on her pale skin.
The Hunter's eyes go wide, and he drops his gaurd, staring at his hands with a terrified look of guilt. He stumbles backwards, tripping over their discarded weapons to land in a heap on the rickety floor. Maria walks up to him and slams her high heel onto his chest, putting her hand on her hip and staring down at him with a look of disgust. She clicks her tongue. "So weak," she says seductively. She leans down, cupping his chin to look at the bruises. She clicks her tongue once more. "My, my, my. How have you made it this far, little hunter?"
His eyes are hazy from blood loss, going in and out of focus. Her nails are blades of their own, cutting through his clothes to leave small, but vicious cuts. Maria tightens her grip on his chin, leaning ever closer to stare into his eyes. "Answer me, you feckless weakling." She grinds her heel on his chest.
"Her."
Maria cocks an eyebrow. "Her... This Karina of yours, yes?"
"Please," He croaks. "She's trapped. I want so much more for her... But she can't leave, and I can't leave without her." Tears form in his eyes as he confesses. "You look exactly like her. You have to be connected. You have to. Please... Help her. Help her," he whispers, slowly drifting towards unconsciousness.
Maria sighs, releasing him and kicking the wall, dislodging her dagger. She catches it point-down, then slowly draws it across the inside of her plump lips as the Hunter looks at her with fading eyes. She gathers blood in her mouth, then pulls the Hunter up, supporting him with her arm on his back. She carresses his chin, nudging it open. Taking a deep breath, she leans forward and kisses him gently, slowly feeding him her blood as she moans despite herself.
The Hunters eyes widen, and he is swept up in the bliss of being kissed and fed powerful, intoxicating blood all at once. He can only think one thing before he drifts into unconsciousness.
"Karina is going to kill me."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Hunter wakes, his senses on fire. The room is awash in vivid colors, brightly lit now. He can smell old wood and rusty brass, along with the smell of leather, blood, and a sweet Lumenwood perfume. A gentle thumping emanates from his right, with the smells of blood dense around it. Twisting his head, he looks to find Maria, cleaning her blade with a bloody rag. Sunlight streams across her lower body, but where before the shade would hide her face, he can now see it as bright as day. He can see every flawless pore, every subtle twitch, and every thick, luscious lash on her eyelids.
Her voice cuts through the silence, now louder and clearer. "That blood should aid you on your journey. Goodbye."
"I'm not leaving," the Hunter replies. "Please. At least try."
Maria looks at the floor. "I cannot," she sighs. "I must gaurd the secrets of the church, lest someone use the knowledge to commit more atrocities."
"But the clocktower face is still. It is impassable."
"Quite. And I must gaurd the key." She holds out a large disc, lined with grooves and gears.
"But... It's a key," the Hunter says slowly. "You can take it with you, you know. If you can't take a key with you, it defeats the purpose of a key, doesn't it?"
Maria stares incredulously at him, mouth agape. The Hunter looks at her with condescension, disbelief, and a bit of pity.
"You're not very bright, are you?"
SMACK!
"Ugh... My Messenger bag..."
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A.N. Many thanks to the lovely Hydrangea Wine for coming up with the idea for this chapter! (As well as the name for our adorable crow)