Long time no see. I've been having some issues with writing motivation, as well as being busy in life. I've also found myself working on an actual novel, but I don't think it'll result in me abandoning this. I'm far enough in I feel the need to see this one out, as well as the experience it'll give me for working on my novel will be rather helpful, I think.
Anyways, enough about me. Here's the chapter.
She was having a hard time figuring out why Vasyl seemed to refuse to wipe the smile that had been on his face for so long, she'd thought his muscles would have clenched by now. It had really started appearing when they'd finally moved past the more heavy discussion at the hot spring, but it had really appeared when he'd suggested they ought to sleep under the stars. Then he'd found a nice spot off the trail they'd been on- flat, surrounded by trees, but relatively open in the area they decided to actually rest in.
It was in his title; he was a Hunter, but she certainly hadn't expected him to be good at real hunting. She'd mostly kept her distance, watching as he tracked different animal tracks through the mud and dirt. She was content to examine how he'd point out where some doe must have broken off to snack on some plant life, judging by the torn, outstretched stem of it. And then, after a near half hour of tracking, they'd finally cornered a fairly large hare.
A tossed dagger to the neck later, they began their trek back towards camp, dinner in tow. All the while, they talked. Well, it was more accurate to say he spoke, and she tried to keep up. He talked so much; she'd never seen him like this! He asked questions about the native animal life, as if she should have a good understanding of it. Even when she mumbled through what she did know, he treated her like some gospel of wisdom. It was strange.
And he seemed fascinated that she was a demon, asking endless questions about their culture, their nature, how and why she could control wind. All with that damn smile on his face, as if nothing could ruin his good mood. That was before he'd started a fire and began cooking; through it all, he'd yet to stop asking her questions.
"...And what of you, Kagura? Your ability to manifest wind through your demonic energy is quite impressive, yes, but I find myself curious if it was developed or an inherent skill. Do you demons simply… understand your nature, from birth? Or creation, in your case."
Right. Created. It was odd he just brushed over that little detail, as if it didn't matter. She clenched her fists. Did he think she'd get upset if he found it odd?! She hadn't been born, like most demons or anything alive. A fact that earned her endless ire, yes, and more than a bit of ridicule from demons and humans alike. But it didn't feel right for him to just… brush over it. Where were the questions, like if Naraku died, would she, too?
He was clearly curious on all things, so why did she brush over that little detail?
"I'm certain-" He paused, tilting his head from his spot on the ground as he continued his skinning of the hare, almost absentmindedly digging his fingers in and ripping the once-alive animal's coat off- "well, not so much certain, but rather, hypothetically speaking- fairly certain that it was a mixture of both," He nodded to himself, confidently, as he discarded the coat to the side, "I imagine your demonic energies, being so tied to a demon's existence, simply must be inherently understood, much in the way a bird knows how to fly. Yet it has to also be trained like archery, yes? I saw you when you-"
Kagura leaned back a bit on her log seat. They'd found an overturned tree near their campsite, and Vasyl had her cut it into manageable pieces with her wind to give them both seats and ample supply for their fire. She felt her face scrunch up a bit at that thought. Vasyl just knew what to do; she'd yet to see him out of his depths. How did some human get to be that way?
"-Gura?" She finally heard, blinking and turning to look at him. He had removed most of his more burly leathers; he was left in a nice, button down shirt, though a leather vest with belts still lay over his chest and torso. His hat and mask were removed, obviously, leaving himself looking… well, normal. As close to normal as he could get, anyways, given the outlandish blonde, curly hair that sprouted out of his head. That and his outfit was, objectively, still foreign. She'd just gotten used to it.
"...You're right," she finally answered, slowly. "I sort of just… knew how to use my wind, but I had to train some of the finer aspects. Finding out how my corpse dance works exactly took a lot of effort, though I just knew I could."
Vasyl blinked, and she thought she saw him tense up in that brief moment his eyes shut, but it was hard to say for certain. "Corpse dance?" Oh. She hadn't explained that particular detail, had she? Well, no time like the present, now that her big mouth had babbled it away.
"Yes, it lets me… reanimate the dead, and make them move to my whims. I need my fan for it, though," That much was certain. She'd tried with the Stake Driver, but something about it as a medium just didn't lend itself well to her more advanced techniques. She scanned him as his face scrunched up, his head tilting just slightly.
"How intriguing," he said, his brows furrowing in thought, "What are the limitations of such an ability?" Kagura stared. What was wrong with this guy? He wasn't even phased?
"Not much," she answered, after a moment, "I can even make the corpses speak, though nothing too complex. I guess it requires almost all my concentration." That and her reanimated corpses weren't inherently that strong, though she hadn't tried reanimating any great, large beasts yet. Mostly due to a lack of her fan, but maybe she ought to give it a try.
Vasyl was still thinking as he impaled their meal on a stick, placing it above the fire on the makeshift stand he'd created so it could cook properly. "Do you suspect you might be able to use this corpse dance of yours on beasts?" Go figure he'd be considering the same possibility she'd just had.
"Probably, but who knows. I haven't tried it yet," He nodded at her answer, finally sitting down next to her on the wooden log. Kagura hummed, which spurred a look from Vasyl as he raised a single brow in question.
"How long do you think you're going to stay here?" She asked, begrudging his curiosity. He turned back to the fire, giving a soft hum of his own.
"I don't know. Hopefully not too short a time," he said, and Kagura silently agreed. It would be rather boring without him. What would she do when he left? Return to Naraku to do his bidding? Who knows what sort of task he might give her, and it wasn't as if she could refuse if it was suicidal.
There would be no safety net anymore, then.
"...We ought to discuss Naraku," Vasyl decided, stroking his chin, "If i intend to skewer this demon, I should know his motivations and plans, no matter how vague." Kagura sighed, unable to stop herself from smiling softly.
Naraku, impaled upon some cruel weapon of Vasyl's choice? Who wouldn't smile at the imagery.
"He's an egotistical bastard, always scheming. He wants to collect all the shikon jewel shards for more power and to become a full demon," she said, trying to sum up his plans in general without going too in depth. Now that she laid it out, it all seemed rather crude, didn't it? It wasn't as if Naraku was lacking in power, he simply hated the human part of him.
How vain.
"Shikon jewel shards, hmm." Vasyl mused, that peculiar mind of his churning in thought, "Perhaps we ought to do some collecting of our own for these shards, to impede his progress. I could even keep them myself, so he might not find them on your person."
It was a solid idea, honestly. To her knowledge, outside of stray demons, the only group truly hunting for the shards was Inuyasha's group and Naraku. Kikyō too, maybe. Koga was probably just looking to kill her at this point.
Maybe she should let the mangy mutt find her, then have Vasyl chop him to pieces. She wasn't truly worried about facing him in combat, but pests like him were impolite and would always turn up at the worst of times. Still, ignoring that mutt, the issue with her prior thoughts with tracking down the shards was that Naraku had already collected far more than anyone else.
It was the whole reason he was able to enact his schemes. No, hunting for shards wouldn't accomplish much to free her. Frankly, she didn't care about the rest of Naraku's scheme. She'd hand deliver every shard if it meant her freedom, but even if she did that… Naraku would probably still kill her.
A different plan was what was needed. Perhaps it would come to her in time, but she didn't really have one at the moment. Sighing, Kagura crossed her arms.
Vasyl put a hand on her back, rubbing lightly.
"We will succeed," he said, voice annoyingly confident.
She didn't bother to respond, instead moving to a different subject. "Are you going to be able to repair your saw cleaver?"
He shrugged after a brief moment of consideration. "It's likely beyond even the Dream's abilities to fix, so I suppose I will be on the hunt for a new weapon when we return."
Hopefully she did get pulled back into Yharnam with him, to break up the monotony of waiting around Naraku's palace for some mindless task he'd give her. Besides, it was better company there than here, which was… quite telling.
There was no point in wondering if she would or would not, however. It would be best to simply enjoy the time without the frantic pace living in Yharnam inherently brought. No beasts to worry about, no mysteries to unravel...
"Speaking of Yharnam," Vasyl began, bringing her thoughts back to the city just as she readied to dismiss them, "I've somewhat determined what our next course of action should be upon return. We must transverse to Bygernwerth, which lay beyond the forbidden forest."
Kagura nodded, thinking about what she could recall on Byrgenwerth. That Alfred guy had said it was where all things in Yharnam began. Some research facility, if she was remembering right. "What do you think we'll find there?"
He stared at the fire for a few moments. "I'm unsure. Hopefully answers, but… well, it is hard to say. I thought the Grand Cathedral would allow us to learn more, but it left us more questions than answers." That was true. She'd been hoping to string up some human and figure out what was going on. Instead she watched some human turn into a monster, then she diced it up to pieces.
"In the end, we'll simply press forward and uncover whatever awaits us." That was all they really could do, so it seemed more an admittance of ignorance on information, "But enough of these discussions. We should enjoy our moments of respite while they're available. I suspect the night in Yharnam will only grow more strange."
He was probably right. Time passed, their meal finished. Vasyl continued with his insistent questions and smiles, observing and enjoying the wildlife. Eventually the fire faded, the meal finished, and, while laying down and mindlessly listening to Vasyl's speaking, Kagura's eyelids dropped and she fell asleep.
Vasyl watched Kagura sleep, seeing the slight fall and rise of her chest and hearing the soft whistle of air from her lips. She was… well, she was breathtaking. A walking calamity of beauty and… thrill that made him churn in constant thoughts, never unwelcome. He might have stared for longer if the idea didn't seem terribly impolite.
Sighing, he eventually turned his vision elsewhere. It felt like an invasion of her privacy, to stare so intently while she was unaware. Yet as he leaned back, laying flat against the ground with his eyes to the stars, it was an invasion that seemed all the more inviting than the alternative.
His fingers tapped the ground next to him, index to ring finger in order, several times over. Decisions were such difficult things. Perhaps the people of Yharnam had it right, living in ever ignorance, mere sheeps to the shepherds of the church. Yes, to be a weaker man was a much more peaceful, easier solution than to be the inquisitive one.
Still, to hide from that which haunted him would accomplish nothing, and he did not consider himself much of a sheep to be herded. His eyes closed, and in a moment that seemed to last both forever and instantaneously, she appeared.
It was… strange, as it always was. All he could see were her eyes, emerald and striking. He could vaguely recall her full appearance, almost, but it was blurred. Just like now, as if she was obscured in mist. It hurt less to see her, and his mind no longer throbbed as intensely. When had it happened, her fading appearance? He closed his eyes- somehow, even if his eyes were already closed in this strange mindscape he was in- and thought hard, but all it did was make his head spin again and harder.
He stumbled, shaking his head to dismiss the pains and looking at her.
What to make of all this, hmmm. She certainly didn't seem hostile. She didn't seem anything, frankly. An enigma trapped inside his own ahead, but at least she was polite enough company. He sighed, scratching at the back of his head. He accidently opened his eyes. The sun had already risen and the night was gone. Kagura lay still, asleep.
Things really couldn't be simple, could they?
Vasyl sighed, looking around the Hunter's Dream once more. "Welcome home, Good Hunter," came the Doll's typical greeting, which he might have met with more enthusiasm under different circumstances. Kagura had only just awoken, and they'd begun a trek again… only for him to feel the pull of the dream. In a flash, he'd returned. He'd barely had time to give a frantic goodbye before being whisked back here.
"Hello, Doll," he returned, politely. It wasn't as if it was her fault he'd been pulled back here, so to rebuke her good intentions would be rather rude. Well, there was hardly use in moping. Vasyl passed by the Doll, giving her a small nod, as he moved towards the workshop. He'd need to determine his new weapon, though that felt like a monumental task. He'd grown quite fond of his Saw Cleaver, but it was narry more than a handle now.
Perhaps he'd simply use the Saw Spear. It was a similar enough weapon; he'd hardly need to relearn anything. Approaching the workshop bench, he checked to see-
Vasyl blinked, noticing something glistening on the edge of the workbench. An… eye? It almost looked like it was encased in stone, but there was no mistaking what it was. An eye with the most peculiar pattern he'd seen, glazed over with a spider web-like pattern on the dead orb. Actually, perhaps a spider web pattern wasn't quite correct. It almost looked like the great clocktower central to the Yharnam landscape, yet webbed over.
Picking it up, he rotated it around, examining it in full. There didn't seem to be much more to it, frankly. What was it with eyes? This town had some sort of strange obsession with them. How maddening.
Vasyl set it on the bench, content to leave it. He had no desire to walk around with such a thing. He needed something to get his mind off these peculiarities. Moving towards his storage chest, he opened it and snagged the Saw Spear out. It would suffice as a weapon until he found something more fitting.
He would need to give it some quick reinforcements, but that only took a moment. Returning to the workbench, Vasyl set the spear down. Though his attention was decidedly elsewhere. The eye. It was gone. His brow furrowed, and he gave a quick sweep of the immediate surroundings to see if he could spot it.
Nowhere to be seen. Clenching his fist, Vasyl breathed deep and released his tension. This was, after all, a dream. Perhaps he was hallucinating again. Oh, what a pleasant thought- either he was hallucinating, or the dream had manifested an eye on the workbench and dissipated it when his back was turned.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he endeavored to not think about it. With his luck, the eye would turn up at the most inopportune time. To enhance his Saw Spear was quick work- he'd done it many times, and the dream made it all the easier.
His feet carried him out of the small house of this place, and he stepped towards one of the many graves of the dream that served as makeshift lanterns, taking him to and fro across Yharnam. A small wave goodbye to the Doll- she deserved that pleasantry, no matter his mood- and he was off to Oedon Chapel.
Awakening in Oedon Chapel was an odd experience, as it always was. The world seemed to shift, get dark, and then brighten up again, as his surroundings changed from the makeshift dream to the real world of Yharnam.
Immediately, he blinked, noticing the woman sitting in a comfortable looking chair mere feet in front of him staring right at him. "Oh, hello," she greeted, sitting up a bit straighter opposed to the slouch she was in,, "I saw you walk in, but you seemed in a daze. I'm Arianna… and you must be the kind, generous hunter who told me of this place."
Vasyl nodded, lowering his mask and ignoring that she 'saw him walk in.'
"..and handsome, too. What a catch!" She laughed, a rich, enticing thing that had properly served her well given her profession. It was… well, it was pleasant sounding. He endeavored to ignore that detail.
"I'm glad you've arrived safely," he replied as more chuckles sounded from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, spotting the chapel dweller looking over with a happy smirk.
"Aye', I knew you'd be a good one- brought many folk 'ere, that you have. Keep 'em safe on the night of 'da hunt," called the chapel dweller. Vasyl smiled absently, scratching the back of his head at the attention. It was a novel experience, having Yharnamites happy to see him. He could get more used to it, frankly.
"A regular good samaritan, aren't we?" Arianna teased, and Vasyl tensed up a bit. The looks she was giving him… Vasyl coughed. The less thoughts he had at this exact moment, the better.
"I simply try to do what's-"
"Try to do what's best, eh? That's what you were gonna say?" He blinked, turning to look at the man who'd just cut him off. The voice was unmistakable; it was the rude citizen who seemed to hate outsiders. Which, frankly, could describe most of Yharnam, but he was referring to the one himself and Kagura had encountered earlier in the night.
"Yeah, that's right. I'm 'ere, because I can see through a lousy, no-good outsider like 'erself. Ioefka's clinic… ha, what a laugh. Pathetic," he decreed, spitting on the ground next to him as if it would somehow punctuate his point better. To be fair, it did.
"What an exceptionally uncouth gentlemen you've brought here," Adella, forcing herself away from the corner she typically resided in, began, "but I suppose I cannot fault you for simply trying to help others." He gave her a small smile, which she returned. He decided to ignore the red on her cheeks.
"Help others? Him?" The suspicious man laughed, not kindly. "He's a liar, and all of you are going to see it, sooner than later." See, now this was an individual who was meeting all the expectations Vasyl had for your average Yharnam citizen. Rude and crazed, topped with a putrid odor.
Vasyl pinched the bridge of his nose once more. He feared if he did it anymore often, he might be left with bruised skin. This situation was deteriorating, and a swift exit seemed more and more appealing with every word spoken. "That's all well and good, but I must be on my way."
"Oh, very well dear. Don't let us keep the big, bad hunter from his work. It is the night, after all." Arianna said, leaning back in her chair, "just... do stay safe. I simply have to thank you for your services, come morning."
Adella coughed. "I, too, must ask you to stay safe. But good hunting to you, dear Hunter."
The suspicious man snorted. "Go get 'erself mauled by a beast, please. Save us from all the trouble you'll bring." Sighing, Vasyl gave the two women a thanks for their kind wishes and ignored the ruder comment he was given. It was time to go, however, before he got roped into more conversations.
Indeed, the sooner he distanced himself from these folks, the sooner his mind would calm. Vasyl took a right, entering through the doorway and out to- to where? This was new, he realized.
He'd never been in this particular hallway before. A look over his shoulder showed it was a door that he'd tried to open once before, only to find it barred. Why had it opened now? This damn city… shaking his head, he regarded the corner ahead of him, passing it slowly to the sight of some sort of round lift.
A glance up showed it went quite high. Well… nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Taking a step onto it, he reached over, pulling a lever and activating this lift, allowing it to take him up to… wherever this went. Bygernwerth would have to wait a bit longer, not that it was going anywhere.
It was a slow rise upwards aboard this lift, as well as a long one. Quite curious, indeed, to have not uncovered this path until now. Vasyl began to close his eyes, only to snap them back open.
This was no time to lose himself to the addled hallucinations within his mind. As the lift reached its apex, Vasyl stepped off it onto a small doorway.
A short walk later and he found himself in a small room, remarkably dark, too. He squinted, scanning the space, but spotting little more than a small lantern.
A whining noise captured his attention, and Vasyl sprinted as light suddenly exploded in the space, the unmistakable continuous flash of a muzzle. The rattling noise of bullets exiting a chamber reminded him of Old Yharnam for just a moment as the line of bullets trailed behind him.
His right hand removed his pistol, and he took aim in the dark and fired. The ripping explosion of flesh that often accompanied his shots sounded, and the line of bullets slowed to a stop a few moments later.
Vasyl stopped his gallop, taking a moment to breathe. A hand traced across his chest, the phantom pain of bullets ripping through him occupying his consciousness.
But, this time, he was fine. He had avoided the worst of it. Trailing over to the small lantern light, he raised a brow at the sight of an old man in a wheelchair, a small, miniaturized gatling gun attached to his means of transportation.
How… strange.
Something about an old man in a wheelchair seemed familiar, but it was such an asinine thought he preferred to ignore it. Taking another glance around the room, he saw only one real path; a long walkway outdoors that led to a larger tower of sorts.
Taking a glance, he eyed the upper walkways, spotting two dark silhouettes. Judging from their stances, they likely held guns, though from such a distance it was hard to tell for certain.
Scratching his chin, he considered his options. Eyes glancing back at the wheelchair's corpse, he decided that was a solid enough choice.
Positioning himself low and behind the seat, he pushed the wheelchair, corpse still seated in it, forward and across the bridge. As he pushed across the walkway, the wheelchair suddenly forced itself to a stop, and the corpse atop it tumbled forward.
A small glance forward showed him he'd run directly into some stairs. Drat.
Kicking the chair aside, he rushed forward into the immediate open room he saw, spotting three mad villagers at a quick glance. The first one to register him ran forward with a cleaver, taking a wild swing. A side step and quick thrust with his newly-acquired saw spear ended his life.
The other approached with a shield and torch; two strong strikes of the shield broke his guard, and a slash across the neck sent blood spurting towards the floor, his life taken.
A pitchfork was stabbed in his direction, and he parried the sloppy attack with his saw spear, stepping forward and bringing his blade upwards through the jaw of the fool who'd sought to challenge him.
Swiping with his blade and flicking the cursed blood of these Yharnamites off his precious steel, he regarded the tower he found himself in. There wasn't too much in his immediate area- many coffins, as was often the case in Yharnam, and a torch or two to keep the place barely lit. A staircase stoof off to his right, and his next course of action was decided then.
He explored the tower, moving up the flight of stairs to an above level to find an empty room, an archway leading outside to a walkaround balcony. He trekked along the outside balcony; killing the two rifle men he came across was quick work, taking nary a second of his time.
Vasyl took a deep breath, taking a glance outwards across the horizon of metal spires and sheening rooftops in the moonlight. It was a not so insignificant sight, one marred only by his knowledge of what this spectacularly wicked city held. Beauty could so often be deceiving.
This was no time to admire the scenery. Taking a glance around, he spotted a ladder, climbing it with ease and bringing himself to the apex of this tower… though it seemed to go even higher. What a strange place, he thought, looking around this chapel-like location.
Candles were lit along the walls, but especially around a door he could spot at the far end of the room. He spotted a small desk off to the side, approaching it with interest. A necklace sat there, a glowing blade reminding him of one he'd encountered before. Quite eye catching, though he always looked upon these artifacts with some grief.
These mementos of hunters. He'd seen a few before.
Well, perhaps it would have some use. The little ones of the dream, at least, always enjoyed them. He snagged it, putting it inside his coat before taking a look at that far door. He moved towards it, giving a raised brow at all the candles lit. It was like some sort of religious ceremony. Scratching at the back of his head, he looked at the engraving above the door.
It seemed distinctly familiar, yet he couldn't place it. Putting a hand against the door, he pushed it open, stepping through to examine what secrets it held. A glance around and he noticed just how obscenely gigantic the room truly was. A look below, as he was on a large, rectangular walkway that also served as a balcony, showed a wide open space with… well, nothing in it. Though, on second glance, he was fairly certain he could see a few feet of water down on the ground.
That and something else. It was remarkably hard to tell from this distance, but he could see two strange, featherless wings on its back, smooth and almost tendril like. Whatever it was down there, it started to shift, turning around so he could see its front.
His vision had never been more clear, and it was as if he was mere feet from this magnificent creature. He stared as emerald eyes stared back, framed by a cracked-egg like head and coral-like hair. And, for some reason, Vasyl realized there were more than just those emerald eyes. No, there were dozens of eyes on its head, yet only those emerald ones stood out. He, strangely, didn't feel all that disturbed by the thought.
An inhuman, unutterable sound escaped from whatever amounted to its throat, and a longing so desperate formed in his despicable heart. He took a deep breath, dismissing his tears, and found himself staring at a closed door once more.
He gave it another push, but it did not bulge.
Vasyl glanced around the empty room, now remarkably dark. The candles had all snuffed themselves out.
Sighing, Vasyl trekked out of the room.
He missed Kagura already.
It had been… well, nearly two months since Kikyō had encountered Kagura and Vasyl, as well as finding herself the makeshift guardian of young Kohaku. They'd left the town, some time ago, and taken to journeying after the sacred jewel shards. Kohaku was much more aware of his situation, now.
What an awful burden to bear, this boy. Naraku would pay, quite dearly. Still, this was no time to allow wayward thoughts to impede her mind. Herself and Kohaku had found themselves in a quiet farming village for the night- it was good, she felt, for him to be around humans. To be given the illusion of normality.
Yet it was just that. An illusion. Kikyō sighed, quietly, as Kohaku continued talking to another pair of travelers. A pair more distinct than most, but not so distinct as to stand out as anything more than a footnote in her mind. Kikyō tuned out their conversation, allowing him to socialize while her mind stayed more on task.
They had retrieved one sacred jewel shard since they left the town, a wayward centipede demon having had it on his person. A quick death he'd been granted, cleansed in spiritual energy with but one arrow. Kohaku had held his own quite well, a testament to his skill in life as well as his unlife. What a pair, the two of them made.
He was remarkably talkative, a… stark change. Kikyō finally tuned into the conversation he was having, listening idly, "N' I've seen a dozen of em, from here to the west. Ugly creatures, but they stay close to that city, mostly." Kohaku nodded, hesitantly.
"Demons?" The traveler shook his head at the boy's question.
"No, not quite. A welcome change. Hell, I've seen em' wrestling with a few demons here and there. They used to not be so common, only ever saw one in my youth, but they're growing more common these days." Kohaku absorbed the info, as did Kikyō.
"Much as I talk caution," the traveler said, sheepishly scratching the back of his head, "that city seems to have 'em under control, mostly. I'd definitely visit it if I were you. A real marvel, and they're more welcoming than I figured they ought to be."
"And this city's name?" Kikyō finally spoke up, intrigued.
"Oh, right. They call it Kos, I think."
Vasyl slowly shuffled down the rope, praying to whatever gods he didn't wish to believe in that the shoddy beam it was tied off to would hold. He'd left the top of the tower a little bit ago, circling around and discovering another entrance inside. It led to a bit of a chasm, one in ruins. A misstep would leave him falling to his death, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Luckily he'd managed to find some rope, thus his current situation, lowering himself down slowly. It didn't help it was damn dark- he could barely see anything at all. The oil lantern attached to his hip was all the light he was allowed, and, to its credit, it was doing a remarkably good job.
Something glistened in the darkness, and Vasyl squinted to make out what it was. A closer inspection showed a door, though… how strange, that it was here. There was a small platform in front of it, though it would be somewhat difficult to get to. Vasyl planted his feet more firmly against the rounded stone wall in front of him, pushing himself back before running forward.
As he reached the apex of his swing, he let go, leaping forward and barely managing to snag his fingers on the edge of the platform. With strength only the knowledge that, if he didn't pull himself up, he'd die, could grant, he lifted himself up onto the platform, laying on his back briefly and heaving a few breaths.
Pushing himself onto his knees, he examined the door before putting a hand against it and pushing. With no small amount of strength, he pushed it open. It was made of metal, and quite thick. Still, a door was a door, made to be opened.
As it opened, it showed a small walkway of stairs. He followed along the path, seeing a beacon of light towards the end. In only a dozen steps, he found himself outdoor once more. A stone walkway lay in front of him, looping around this courtyard. And a courtyard it was, though something seemed familiar about it.
Following the cobblestone path, he sucked in a breath as a house atop a hill came into his vision. The same house of the dream, only here, in reality. It was a complete replica. A glance around showed this whole damn place was a replica, or rather, the dream a replica of it. Some differences stood, of course, but it was very clear what the dream's foundation was.
Vasyl allowed his feet to carry him across the courtyard, though he didn't directly approach the workshop. Rather, he found himself standing in front of a solitary grave. A grave he'd found the doll standing in front of, many times.
A bone sat against the gravestone, and, for reasons beyond him, he reached out to grab it. Something clicked in that moment, so he moved on an urge. It was as if the world around him was in slow motion, his speed incomparable. Within the blink of an eye, he found himself standing inside the workshop.
It was dark, much darker than he was used to. A glance around showed it in disarray, though perhaps not much more than the hunter's dream. And, peculiarly enough, he found the doll, sitting against a wall and slumped forward. And to the right of the doll, atop a pedestal, was… a cord. Flesh and sickening looking. It took a moment for him to realize, what, precisely he was staring at.
An umbilical cord. Vasyl crinkled his nose in disgust, raising a brow before turning away. Something else caught his eye at that moment. A hair ornament on the workbench, quite beautiful. It… well, he felt an urge to keep it, and so he did, pocketing it after a moment.
Vasyl turned around, and the Doll was mere inches from his face. He blinked, taking a half step backwards and barely preventing himself from screaming out.
"Hello, Good Hunter." The Doll greeted happily, and Vasyl shook his head at the absurdity of the moment.
"My mind splinters, even here? I suppose it's not of too much surprise." The Doll giggled, a hand over her mouth at his words.
"Oh, Good Hunter. You will understand, one day." He sighed, scratching the back of his head. Well, it wasn't as if the Doll coming to life in his strange mind was as… disturbing as what else he had seen. Frankly, she was a fair sight more pleasant than his other hallucinations.
Vasyl stared at the doll, absorbing the words his crazed mind spoke to him. "I simply wonder if I want to understand." The Doll tilted her head, something far too adorable for him to process. He smiled.
"But you must," she instructed, as if telling him the sky was blue. Well, far be it from him to disagree with his crazed mind. It was, after all, his mind. "Please," she said, turning around and practically skipping to the pedestal, "take it." She held out the umbilical cord for him eagerly.
"I'd rather not, frankly."
She stared at him, uncannily long. "But you must," she said. He sighed, shaking his head- a hand gripped his chin, and another hand forced his mouth open. Vasyl gagged and reached with both hands up to break the grip on his chin, only to find his struggles worthless. It was like trying to move a steel beam. He realized with alarm something was being forced down his throat. His eyes bulged as he realized the doll was forcing that umbilical cord into his mouth with a third hand.
He struggled, tears staining his eyes, as the Doll looked at him with unmoving features, her eyes unblinking and her brows unfurrowed, as she remained plain faced through it all. She was forcing that damnable cord down his throat without any emotion whatsoever. Was his own mind truly this evil? He tried to speak, but it was useless. He felt it slipping into his digestive system with sickening awareness. As it was far too late to do anything about it, he was only able to feel nauseous.
When the Doll seemed satisfied that he had… eaten it, she released him. He fell forward, collapsing against her. She supported his weight without issue, wrapping two arms around him like a doting mother.
"Oh, Good Hunter. You did so well." He tried to speak, but all that came out was puke, splattering against the Doll unflatteringly. One of her hands stroked the back of his head, and he couldn't get his mind off the… the feeling in his stomach. He threw up once more, the Doll uncaring as she continued to comfort him as if she hadn't made him… do that.
Finally, he found the ability to speak. "W-Why?"
She repeated her words from earlier. "You will understand, one day."
Vasyl blinked, and he found himself holding the hair ornament in his hand once more. His head whipped around, staring at where the Doll rested on the ground. Her clothes were stained with puke. The umbilical cord was missing, as well.
...Had it not been a hallucination?! Had… that been real? Why was the Doll's dress stained with puke?! Was he still hallucinating?
Vasyl took two steps backwards, glancing around the house with alarm. He focused on the feeling in his stomach, and he felt it. Oh, Gods above- oh Gods. He threw himself against the front doors, launching them open with his shoulder. A lantern had formed at the bottom of the stairs, and he'd never seen a more beautiful sight. He scrambled for it, activating it and finding himself whisked away to the dream.
Within moments, his eyes reopened, and he found himself staring at the Doll. "Hello, Good Hunter," she greeted. Her dress was clean. She tilted her head, examining him. "Dear Hunter, are you well?" He laughed. Oh, he laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed.
Tears formed, and he tried to force some words out of his throat to no avail. With an urge beyond him, he reached into his coat and retrieved the hair ornament. He looked at it then the doll. It was… well, it seemed a perfect match.
She walked closer to him, taking it from his hands. He didn't dare breathe. She cupped it with both hands for a moment. Something fell from her eye. A stone. "Oh, Hunter. Is this joy?"
He didn't trust himself to speak, so he simply nodded.
Vasyl took a deep breath, dismissing himself from the Doll's immediate presence as she stared lovingly at the hair ornament in her hands. He reached for the lantern once more, willing himself to Oedon Chapel.
Arianna greeted him, a raised brow. "You look like you've seen better times, love."
He laughed.
A shorter chapter than normal, but I just felt the need to get something out there. I don't feel like it's up to my usual standards but I'm trying to force my way forward. Hopefully my motivation issues sort themselves out. Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed. Sorry for the wait.
Apologies to anyone expecting Vasyl's stay in Japan to last longer. I've plans for the Inuyasha universe, they just don't directly involve too much of Vasyl for now.