Chapter Twenty-Six | Amontillado
Groaning, Catherine shook the demons out of her head, skull pounding and her gaze fuzzy. She blinked a few times, slow confused tugs of her eyelids that only served to blur the world further, the faint glow of torchlight flickering against gray walls.
What…
A moan slipped from her as she cradled her face, patting lightly to find her glasses missing and dried blood caked across her cheeks.
"Where am I?"
She remembered trekking through Hemwick, laying the torch to that foul village. Catherine had almost made it all the way back to Yharnam when…
All she could draw up was the vague memory of pain as something smashed her across the back of the head.
Clumsily, she snapped her fingers, a frown crossing her face when even through the haze of her naked eyes she could spy no mist nor hear the familiar crooning of the little ones.
Fuck.
She'd been kidnapped, somehow, brought to… Catherine fumbled around, fingers scraping at grimy stone before they settled across a bar.
A prison?
"Hello?" she whispered, uncaring if something came out and killed her for it. "Is there anyone there?"
Holding her breath, she waited. One second. Two. Three.
Nothing.
Only the quiet drip of leaking water and further away the crackle of flame. In the distance, echoing somewhere far off into the jail, Catherine could hear screams.
Chiding herself, Catherine cursed her lack of focus. She got giddy, tearing down Hemwick, and now she was somewhere in Yharnam - captured, weaponless, and all but blind.
She would slit her own throat, but… no weapon, and she wasn't confident she could cave her skull in by bashing it against the bars.
Catherine sniffed, and wrinkled her nose, the room humid with the stench of rot and mildew, somewhere sitting at the back of her nose that cloying sweetness unique to Yharnam, and the sharp copper of blood.
Definitely a prison.
Clumsily, she got to her feet, feeling along her cell until she came across the door, which to her surprise swung wide open as she pressed her hand against it.
Some prison this was, to leave their cages unlocked.
Catherine fumbled her way through the floor, hardly able to see more than a foot ahead, one hand skimming across the wall and another held out in front so she didn't walk right into something.
She hummed in surprise as her foot kicked at a step, Catherine slowly making her way down to hear the quiet sound of someone sobbing.
"Hello?" She whispered this time. "Is there someone there?"
Her keen ears picked up the quiet gasp, a woman's voice, somewhere behind her hidden beneath the stairs she had just walked down.
"Please. I… I've no idea where I am."
She peered around the corner, blinking unsteadily as she continued to stumble her way over, the woman's breathing picking up in pace, growing frantic.
"Oedon, Formless Lord I pray to thee, deliver my soul to thine cosmos with grace. May I become one with the Blood, may my mind touch your endless greatness-"
"I'm not- I'm not going to hurt you. You don't need to be afraid of me," she said, louder.
"Please! Please, leave me be!" The woman shouted, and Catherine was sure she had thrown up her arms as she accidentally walked into a crate, nearly falling into the poor lady. "Don't- don't take me! Please, oh gods-"
"I can't even see you, let alone hurt you," Catherine murmured softly, steadying herself on the crate. "Blind without my glasses. Do you know where we are?"
"No- no… you're not one of them? But you're a hunter. Are you from the Church?"
"I'm not a monster." Craning her head, Catherine listened intently, a sigh escaping her when she heard no noise above. Whatever beasts lived within this place, none had heard them. "I just woke up a few minutes ago. All I remember is being hit over the head and then… being here."
"They must have taken you, like they took me."
"Is there anyone else here, or just you and I?"
The woman choked. "There were… others, but they were all taken away. I've heard them screaming in the distance, and I fear I may- that I may be next."
"Not if I have anything to do with it. I'll just need your help."
"No! No, we'll be caught and torn to pieces." She let out a keening whine. "Oh gods, cleanse us of this nightmare."
"It's better than staying here. There's a chance we can escape, or there's the certainty that we stay and die. I've saved others in the city, and I'm going to do my best to save you too."
"How?"
"If we can find our way back to Yharnam, we'll go to the Cathedral Ward. Oedon Chapel is safe, and there are others staying there already."
Hopefully others. Catherine prayed that the strange woman she had happened across made her way safely to the sanctuary.
"But you're blind." The woman's voice broke on that, a wet sob leaping from her haggard throat. "What good is a- a nun and a blind hunter?"
Catherine snorted. If she found a lantern this nun was as good as saved.
"I can smell. I can hear. I can't see all that well… at all, really, but I've fought with only one eye before. I can do it with two that barely work."
"Fought with one…"
"Nevermind the details. Just- trust me, please?" She pulled down her mask, offering a smile to the woman. "My name is Catherine, and I'm going to make sure you're safe."
She could practically hear Hermione hissing in her ear about her complete lack of self preservation, but what did it matter when she was immortal? Catherine would save this woman and probably die trying, but when had something as simple as dying ever stopped her?
Damn her, and her need to save everyone and everything she could.
Though Catherine smiled at that, comforted to know that at least that part of her still remained.
"I'm… I am Adella."
Catherine reached out and offered her hand, which after a moment Adella took. She hoisted her up with ease, steadying the woman with a gentle hand placed on her shoulder, ignoring her quiet gasp.
She wondered if she really looked that frightening.
"Good to meet you, Adella. I'm going to need you to be my eyes until I can find my glasses and the rest of my gear. They have to be somewhere here."
"There's… the other way, down below, it's where we were brought in. The holding cells there might have your things, if they haven't been lost."
"Fingers crossed."
"What?"
"Oh. Not a- I'm not from here. It's something we say at home, for good luck."
"An outsider… no wonder you smell- well…" Adella breathed out audibly. "I've just got to trust you, haven't I?"
"That you do."
More familiar with the room, Catherine beckoned Adella to follow, taking her old path back to the stairwell and up to the cells above.
"This way," Adella whispered, patting her arm as they reached the top and gesturing past her head to the other end of the room. "There are stairs that lead down, or up. We came… we came up the stairs, coming here."
"Alright."
Slowly, they crept forward, Catherine sucking in a breath as she walked down the spiral stairs, a quiet murmur of groans and scraping feet meeting her ears as they descended.
Raising her finger to her lips, Catherine frowned. "Quiet."
"What?"
She hushed Adella, back plastered against the wall. Her footsteps made almost no sound as she walked down the rest of the stairwell, but Catherine gasped as she misjudged how many steps there were, her heel smacking loudly against the stone as it felt like she fell through the earth itself, her stomach plummeting.
Just as she made the noise, Catherine heard a whoop, scabbed fingers grabbing her by the head and dragging it down.
With a curse on her lips she grabbed the beings wrists, snapping one of them as she swung her other arm and drove a sharp elbow into their gut.
Grinning at the sound of air being driven out of whatever had grabbed her, she spun around and clutched at their face.
An old woman, she realized, harried shrieks leaping from the maddened lady's throat as Catherine drove her thumbs into her eye sockets and pressed as hard as she could.
Hot jelly spilled across her hands as those eyes burst, and Catherine could feel bone cracking beneath her fingers as they pressed against the inside of the woman's skull. She grit her teeth, ignoring the feeble slashes of a knife across her midsection as she clenched, the withered old bone giving way beneath her grasp and breaking to pieces. A gurgling moan echoed out into the stairwell as her fingers plunged into the burning soup inside the beast woman's head, turning her already scrambled brains to mush.
Panting, Catherine withdrew one hand, taking the knife from the woman's grip - still clenched tight in death - before laying her corpse against the wall.
"Adella, you can come."
Quiet footsteps and another gasp, and Catherine could imagine the hand placed over the nuns mouth as she looked upon the macabre sight that awaited her.
Not that she knew what her face looked like, but Catherine had always had an avid imagination.
"Take this." She reached out, flipping the knife over and offering Adella the handle. "I don't need it."
"Are you su-"
"Take it."
Her hand felt naked as Adella gently took hold of the knife, and Catherine in that moment realized that it wasn't just her spear and glasses missing, but she hadn't looked for her wand as well.
She patted at her pockets, a quiet murmur of relief slipping from her lips as she felt the familiar weight of it tucked into her jacket. Grinning, Catherine pulled it from her pocket.
"A stick?"
"No, not a stick." Catherine turned, trying her best to look Adella in the eye, but only able to make out the pale blur of her face, hidden more so by the darkness. "I'm about to do something and I don't want you to be frightened, alright?"
"Do what?"
"I'm… a magician, of sorts."
"A witch?"
She saw her take a step back, and Catherine put her hands in the air. "I'm not from here, my magic isn't like the kind you find in Yharnam. Not like in Hemwick."
"And how- how am I supposed to just believe that?"
"Because I killed everyone in Hemwick."
"What?"
"I burnt it to the ground."
Conjuring glasses, Catherine's teeth clicked together as she smiled again, placing them upon her nose and relieved beyond belief to see the world shimmer into view. Adella stood before her, face twisted into something frightened, and she brandished the knife Catherine had given her with both hands.
Taking a step back, she made a show of slowly putting her wand behind her ear, tucking it there like she'd seen Luna do so often. "Please, Adella, you have to trust me."
Tears ran down the nuns face, black hair plastered to her cheeks and eyes rimmed with red. The muscles of her throat stood out as she swallowed down her fear, searching Catherine for something.
"Why?"
"Because doing something good makes me feel like I'm home."
It was selfish, but it was true, and she would readily admit that to herself. She knew her adventures here had left her feeling bereft of humanity, and she clung to whatever scraps of it she could dredge up from the muck one had to wade through in this city.
"Hemwick is gone?"
"Every home and every witch, gone. I saw to it personally."
"Are you… are you-" She lowered her hands, taking one off the knife and reaching towards Catherine. "Are you god-chosen? You must be."
"I'm just a girl."
"No! No, I understand." Adella's eyes were wide, a smile on her face that spoke of only a nuns' reverence. "You cannot speak of these things."
"I…" Catherine shook her head. "Look, stay close, okay?"
Nodding fervently, Adella had almost taken on a second wind, her eagerness bleeding through. "Of course."
Eyeing her curiously, Catherine decided to address Adella looking on her as some sort of demi-god later, once they weren't trapped in a prison where a crone tried to gouge out her eyes.
They walked into the next room to see another batch of cells, beastmen laying in the dirt - dead or alive, Catherine didn't know, but she planned on cutting their heads off just to be sure. Against the corner of the wall and locked away behind large chains was a stack of weapons, makeshift or otherwise.
The majority that Catherine could make out were the improvised weapons of the Yharnamites. Kitchen implements and farming tools sharpened to a point and strapped to sticks, so that they may fight the beasts from afar. Murmuring a low alohomora, the lock flipped open and Catherine went rummaging through the pile, not giving any mind to the probable tetanus she may get (or should have already been suffering under, at this point) from the rusty blades.
After a minute or so of searching, a silencing charm blanketing the weapons so they didn't clatter horribly against the floor, she let out a heavy sigh.
Her spear wasn't among them.
"Can't find my blade," she stated, pursing her lips. "We'll just have to make do without it."
"What?"
"I've got a wand, haven't I? Shouldn't have too much trouble with the creatures here."
Adella looked both fearful and awestruck, mumbling something before agreeing. "I trust you."
"And I'll do everything I can not to break that trust. Remember to stay close, alright?"
So Adella followed close behind, no longer flinching at bloodshed as Catherine silently cut the throats of the cellmates in the room. Some gurgled quietly, while others did not even wake, the sudden drop in blood pressure leaving them asleep, or otherwise knocking them unconscious.
Catherine could spy two of the… snatchers, the Voice had called them, those tall, pale faced men that looked more like corpses than any breathing thing, carrying bodies along their back and spitting red lightning.
One of these beasts must have been what had taken her.
She'd have to thank them personally.
One snatcher's throat exploded, thin ropes of gore flying across the room as a bit of broken chain blasted through its neck at a blistering speed, shattering against the far wall with a high pitched crack. The other made a noise of surprise, that sharp red light bouncing off its flesh as it whirled about, swinging the body it held - whoever or whatever was trapped in that sack still moaning, thick drops of sick ebbing through patches in the cheesecloth and splattering against the floor.
Catherine leaned to the side, the swinging body tossed over her head and brought back around in a tight circle, the snatcher wielding the prisoner like a flail.
These things would ignore missing limbs, charge after her even if she took off their arms, legs, and put a hole in their chest. As long as their heart kept beating, they would not stop.
That's why she killed the other so quickly, blowing out it's spine in the process so even if it wasn't quite dead yet, it wouldn't be able to even move its shoulders, paralyzed from the neck down.
Her wand shone bright, and a length of rope made not of conjured flax but fire itself wrapped around the creature's chest. More fire sprang out from where it clung to the beast, the wrappings running down to the bottom of its ribs, smoke pouring from the burning fabric of its robes and stinking something awful.
She pulled, the ropes tightening. Catherine could hear as its ribs did not break but instead shattered, flesh and bone singed through and crushed tight against the meat within. It's heart thundered as it was pierced back and front by shards of still dripping rib, the fire cutting through the tight muscle like an oar through water.
Catherine had never thought that blood could boil, but she smelled and heard it as it popped furiously from the junctions of bubbling flesh that she noted resembled a hock of pork that had been left to cook for far too long, squeezed tight by butcher's twine.
She didn't question where the knowledge of that spell came from, nor the dozens of others she had cast throughout the last week, all unknowing of where and how they had planted themselves in her head.
Better to not think about it, Catherine told herself. Not until all this was over.
Casting a quick glance behind her, she nodded at Adella, her steps measured as she pushed open another door, drinking deeply of the air once she realized they were outside.
The two of them were in an alley, and she looked up to spy tall spires, similar to those that would be found in Yharnam but somehow looking far more sinister, the shadows playing off tarred shingles and a strange shimmer to the moonlight that shone bright at their wrought iron peaks. It looked almost red for a moment, and Catherine blinked to find the colour gone, shaking her head.
Got knocked over the head pretty badly, she reasoned, though it didn't stop her from casting another quick look to the sky, something in the back of her thoughts niggling at her, murmuring quietly that something wasn't quite right about the view before her.
Maybe it was the decay the place was suffering under, looking as rotted as Old Yharnam, although lacking the blackened scars of fire that had cleansed that stony graveyard.
If Catherine was correct, north, and therefore Yharnam, should be… she turned, looking down the alley towards a section that was swallowed up by rough stone, the construction of this place halted, only a simple gravel track left in place of what should be more of the footpath.
"I think Yharnam is this way," she said, pointing at the moon. "Unless that moves during the night."
"No. The moon always stays the same."
"Good, then this is the right way."
They continued on, Catherine expecting the little path to lead her to a bit of woodland between Yharnam and wherever this was, instead being led through what seemed to be a quarry, somewhere the denizens of place had gathered the stone to build the spires that stood all around her. The trail curved, swooping up and down as it wound behind tall buildings, following the curve of the earth and not the carved plains that made up a city, far too flat to ever be natural, as if one had carved the peak off a mountain and sanded it down.
Her ears perked up as they walked, the familiar crackle of lightning growing clearer and clearer as they pushed down the path, until Catherine and Adella found themselves looking upon an empty plot, walled in by the city around them and marked only by a set of doors that stood far too tall for any mortal man to push, and a massive heap of bone and fur that spat sharp sparks of blue across the earth.
Catherine held out one hand, the magic that held together… whatever that thing was, standing out before her like a beacon. The harsh red of beast-blood shone bright in her mind's eye, so pure as to sting, and somehow she could sense it was old. Terribly, terribly old.
"What is that thing?"
"I don't- I don't know."
"You need to… stay here, alright? Hide behind that rock." She pointed a little further up the path from where they had come. "Stay there until I come for you."
"But-"
"But, nothing. Whatever that is, it's dangerous. And… this might sound strange, but if I die you just sit tight, okay? I'm not very good at staying dead."
"What?"
"You said I'm blessed, or something like that, right? You ever heard of a Dreamer?"
Adella's eyes shot wide open. "You're… a Dreamer?"
"Yes. And that means that even if that thing over there kills me, I'll be right back to put it down."
"You truly are god-chosen." Her voice fell into a hush, gentle and reverent. "I understand. I'll stay here, I promise you that."
"I'm not… I'm not god-chosen or however you want to put it. Honestly? This is a curse," Catherine spoke imploringly, a soft bite to her words. "So, please. Just look at me like- like another person, yeah? I'm just another hunter."
"But you are not. You don't understand… what has been given to you, the touch of the gods themselves..." her voice shook. "You have been chosen for greatness, like all the other Dreamers of old. To deny such a thing only speaks of your misunderstanding, how glorious it is to be graced so."
A part of Catherine wanted to scream at the woman before her, to tell her that dying over and over and over until her mind thrummed with a madness far more violent than one her age, no person should ever know. A part of her wanted to drop her wand and wrap her fingers around the soft, white flesh of Adella's throat, to choke the life from her and watch as it left her eyes.
A part of her wanted to agree.
That growing thing that rested deep down and revelled in the bloodlust this place brought her, slaking her thirst on the sick and dying, the broken and unclean.
Until she had died, Catherine had never felt so alive.
After Hemwick she could no longer deny it, even after trying to convince herself that denial was no longer in her blood. But seeing those homes burn, feeling that witches skull crumble against her knee… it did not make her feel powerful. It made her feel righteous.
Was this how all the hunters felt? To know that with every beast they cut down they cleansed this city of one tiny fraction of the danger it held? Oh, it was futile, she knew. The blood changed these people. The blood had caused all this, somehow, and it would continue to do so until this city finally breathed its last and left behind only a destitute remnant of what once was.
But all the same, it felt good.
"I'm just Catherine."
The words were an echo, standing in that tiny shack and looking up, up (her neck aching, cramped from so many years spent sleeping beneath a staircase) at Hagrid above, her little mind swimming with amazement as he spoke those fateful words to her and opened her world to wonder and danger all the same.
Turning on the spot, Catherine strode down the short trail, thoughts racing as she wondered how to kill whatever this thing was. If it even could be killed, nothing but fur and bone and soaked in the scourge that tore through Yharnam and turned man to beast.
The purity of beasthood that emanated from the grayish mass, lit every so often by the teal burn of lightning, was frightening in its intensity.
Catherine suddenly frowned, realizing in a split second that she was an idiot.
"Accio Spear."
She felt the tug on her magic, standing and waiting for a blur of steel to come rushing to her the same way her broom had but a year ago.
Another time, it felt like. An era long past.
Catherine could hear it whistle on the wind as it came speeding through the city, and she imagined for a moment how perfectly hilarious it would be if it happened to skewer some poor beastman on the way, dragging him along at a breakneck pace.
Fortunately (or unfortunately) it appeared before her unblemished, whirling past a frightened, yet very amazed Adella who peeked out at her from the mass of rocks she was hiding behind.
Snatching it out of the air, Catherine mouthed a silent 'sorry' at Adella, offering her an apologetic wave.
Although, the expression on the nuns face caused that same turmoil from just a moment ago to reappear, swirling in her gut like a shark. It reminded her of the hero worship back home, that strange light in Ginny's eyes the first time she had seen her, how the students would gawk and stare as she walked by.
She was, and always would be 'Just Catherine,' even if others never saw it.
Drawing in a deep breath, she hummed with satisfaction at the familiar weight of the spear in her hand, feeling… less naked now that she had been reunited with it.
Some of the tines and hooks along the length of it had been snapped off, the metal of the blade looking far worse for wear than it had when she tore through Hemwick.
It would need fixing upon returning to the Dream, and Catherine wondered if it could even be repaired in such a state as it was.
Hoping for the best, Catherine hefted the blade, a shiver running up her spine at the comfort it brought. It was cold to the touch, cleansing waters fashioned into steel and blessed with the crystallized blood of the Yharnam dead.
Without a second thought she began dashing towards the crumpled beast ahead, excitement stirring in her gut as it began to pull itself together at her approach, an ungodly clattering mixing with the increasingly rapid crack of lightning as it drew itself up.
That fur, dark as night, now stood up along its body - or rather the bones that made up the massive, beastly skeleton - held aloft by the electricity that coursed along the peaky gray.
It's face reminded her of what was left of Laurence in the Cathedral, a twisted skull bearing a permanent, leering grin. It's teeth clicked together, unseeing gaze locked on her as she lunged.
Her blade scraped against bone, dense beyond imagining, to the point where her elbow jittered terribly, as if she had tried to spear a boulder.
Catherine grimaced as the shock of it ran up her arm, followed by an actual shock as lightning coursed through the weapon. She shrieked, the burning so intense that it brought stars to her eyes, and Catherine managed to let go of the spear, leaving it lodged into the crook of the things elbow and hindering its movements.
Her torso buzzed, a fog falling over her as she rolled away from a swipe of its other arm purely on instinct, stumbling somewhat as she got back to her feet and retreated a few paces away. Blinking away the delirium of having god knows how many amps bursting through her veins, Catherine ducked beneath another furious swipe, the creature letting out an earth-shattering roar as lightning arced from its body.
It tried to pry at the spear, Catherine shouting in anger as it bent the blade with one massive hand in its attempts to remove it, flecks spraying from the steel as it cracked along the fold.
That was… that was her spear. Hers. The one that had gotten her this far in this fucking city. And now it was all but useless.
She saw red.
With an unearthly howl, she began prying stone from the ground with measured waves of her wand, boulders the size of her head floating before the beast. It hardly seemed to notice and instead stampeded towards her, claws tearing deep furrows through the earth and kicking up thick clouds of dust.
Catherine's arm shot forward, sending the boulders headlong towards the massive skeleton, the beast lunging beneath most of them. One smacked into its shoulder with a deafening crack, exploding against the bone and shattering the appendage, the spray of stone marked by fist-sized slivers of pale-white.
It did not howl at its pain, only offering a confused growl as it slammed head first into the dirt, sliding forwards a few metres as it struggled to hold itself up with only three limbs, claws the length of her arm scrabbling at the floor of the quarry.
Striding forward with her arm raised, Catherine pulled up more stone, bringing it to float over the beast.
Suddenly, it exploded, a cacophonous bang shattering the silence as lightning burst from its body in a single, massive wave, striking her dead on and scorching her from head to toe. Not even a scream could slip past her lips, limbs shaking, heart fluttering angrily as her eyes boiled in their sockets. They popped, running along her cheeks like boiled yolks, and her teeth clattered together so violently that a few of them cracked, shards of bone falling beneath her tongue as the tip of it was cut off by another jerking snap of her jaw, filling her mouth with blood.
Catherine died with a silent scream on her lips, blind and in more pain than she had ever felt in her short and tortured years, not even the cruciatus curse able to reach the lengths of one's innards cooking, popping, and spilling into their belly in but a few short seconds.
Her blackened corpse hit the ground with a puff, disappearing along with her mind to resurface not back in the Dream, but in the cell she had woken in.
Delirious and still feeling the ghost of the creature's attack, Catherine's limbs were shaky as she hurried from her cell, dashing as quickly as she could back out to the rear of the prison, towards the quarry and skeletal guard dog that awaited her.
It had to have been the path prisoners were taken into the place, the beast its watcher, and she didn't want to risk more of those snatchers coming along with fresh prey and happening across Adella, defenseless and manic as she was.
Skidding a few times on a pool of blood, or the sharp gravel as she made it to the outside, Catherine's breaths puffed out in front of her in the cool night air.
Adella was still hidden in her spot, almost squealing in fright as she rounded the corner, a hand pressed to her chest and the knife held out feebly in front of her.
"Just me," Catherine panted, running past Adella towards the beast ahead that pawed cluelessly at the spot in which she had died.
Her wand sparked, raising high and calling back on the spell she had used to levitate the boulders, some having fallen on the beast in her death and others lying wayside nearby.
It chuffed in confusion, sightless gaze spinning as it looked back up at the stones, only to roar as it realized Catherine had somehow returned.
She didn't offer it a chance, head cleared of her previous rage and holding only cold fury to be denied her spear. Her wrist twisted, jabbing forward. The boulders began pelting the beast, smashing into it one after another, each one the heavy strike of a drum as they crashed into the thing.
It tried to draw itself up, only to be struck each time by another chunk of stone. Some large, some small, all heavy and dangerous as they fell upon it like comets from above.
Lightning, focused and refined, not the carpet burst of earlier speared out towards her. Adrenaline coursing through her, Catherine intercepted the blast with another stone, the thing exploding and peppering her face with burning gravel.
She let out a roar of her own as the beast shuddered towards her, shoulders hunkered in as it tried to weather the barrage.
The earthen assault was unending, sharp cracks ringing her ears with every collision of gray against white, lit only by the moon and the acid blue that crackled along the beast's limbs.
Another explosion, but Catherine had learned, keeping her distance as the beast desperately attempted a last ditch effort to keep her away, to try and kill her for good.
It didn't know, couldn't know, that Catherine would never stop. Never end her march until either she lay gibbering in a pool of her own sick, or she had smashed its skull to pieces and spat on its hoary corpse.
Like cosmic retribution, the asteroids fell. One upon the spine, shattering the sharp curl of its shoulder and laying the beast out flat. Another on the hips, halting its futile attempt to escape. The last struck the head, splitting it down the middle and sending a final bolt of lightning bursting towards the sky as the essence of the beast unraveled.
Panting, Catherine smiled wickedly, realizing how terribly powerful a few waves of her arm could be, and how a simple thing such as levitation could be so frighteningly lethal.
She knew Voldemort would have never thought of something like that, and the efficiency of it made her feel not proud, but something akin to it.
With caution, she approached the corpse, prodding at it to see if any lightning remained - whether it would leap from the now still pile of bones and flood her insides once more.
Catherine let out a quiet breath of relief when nothing happened, cupping a hand to her lips and shouting, "It's safe!"
Poking her head out from behind the rocks, just a small blotch of inky black in the distance, Adella left her hiding place and came down to meet Catherine, her brow climbing higher and higher as she looked over the beast.
"You killed an ancient," she whispered, the awe in her voice evident. "A Darkbeast."
"Is that what it's called?"
"The Church used to put on a show with them when one was captured. Little ones, but still Darkbeasts. I didn't think- I'd never known they could grow so large."
"They put on shows with them?"
She nodded. "The Prospectors would parade them about, something to be taken from the catacombs and studied. My mother would sometimes take me out into the streets to see what the Church had found."
"Wait." Catherine put up one hand. "Catacombs?"
"Beneath the city. It's… it's a secret of the Church." Adella seemed to shrink inward. "But you're… you're a- a Dreamer. It's no harm for you to know."
"Is this common knowledge?"
"An… open secret, moreso. Everyone knows the Good Blood was found beneath the city, but any more than that is- well, the details are kept tight to the breast of the Church."
"And… how does one get to these catacombs?"
"Oh! I haven't the faintest. I'm only a lowly nun. We're taught how to read and write, learned of the scripture, but it would take admittance to the Choir to be told of how exactly we came to be graced by the gods themselves."
Catherine frowned, tongue pressed flat against the roof of her mouth and her lips pursed.
Catacombs beneath the city, full of… these things, and the place in which they found the blood? She'd have to find a way there.
Worst case scenario, she'd take her wand and get to digging.
"I'll look into that. Thanks… Adella."
The nun grinned widely, her eyes alight at Catherine's praise. "It's no trouble at all, please. Anytime you need me."
She offered a weak smile back, casting a glance to her left at the warped and melted spear still lodged in the beast's arm.
Catherine would have to ask the messengers about weapons again. Perhaps they had something other than the hammer.
"Let's try this door," she announced, stepping around the massive corpse and walking up to the set of grand doors embedded into the city wall, taller than that of even Hogwarts and studded with iron, now that she looked upon them up close.
They were familiar in a way, and she couldn't place if it was because they reminded her of home, or something else.
Gritting her teeth, she pushed against the wood, shoulders straining and wrists aching as she pressed her weight against it. The thing shuddered, a low, squealing groan echoing out into the courtyard as it slowly began to open, the bottom of it scraping at flattened stone.
Putting her shoulder into it, Catherine kept pushing, taking a few steps forward as the door finally swung open, revealing to her the pits of Old Yharnam.
Steam billowed out from old sewers, and the tinge and smoke of corpse pyres hung heavy in the air. No, it couldn't be anything else.
Her gut wrenched, realizing they were only a few hundred feet below where Djura's corpse lay, forgotten in one of the towers far above and left to rot for who knows how long.
Catherine had long stopped keeping count of her time in Yharnam, feeling no need to catalogue her imprisonment.
But she knew Old Yharnam well. Better than the Cathedral Ward, and almost as intimately as she knew the streets of Central Yharnam near Emilie's home. Or Gilbert, she remembered, the sickly man who had set her on her path.
She would have to visit, and see if he'd like to go to Oedon Chapel.
Leading the two of them through the underbelly, Catherine helped Adella keep to the shadows while making quick work of the cloth-wrapped beasts that called this place home, any time one of them dared come shuffling around the corner.
It was almost amusing to dispatch them so quickly, and Old Yharnam seemed almost a vacation spot now that Djura was dead. No gatling gun lurking over the rooftops and ready to spit boiling metal in her direction, turning her limbs to mulch in a single spray. No blood-drunk hunters left lurking in the shadows, all of them dead from beasts or the swing of her blade.
It wasn't a surprise that it didn't take much time at all for Catherine to follow the familiar path, Adella murmuring in a fearful hush the whole while about trekking through unhallowed ground.
It had taken her a moment to comfort the woman and convince her that no, the Church would not be coming after her for wandering through this place, even after their condemnation of the old city ruins, which the woman readily accepted far too quickly for one of such zealous faith.
Catherine thought it would be the only time she was ever thankful to be looked upon as something larger than life, and prayed she never have to use her fame - back home or in Yharnam - to get what she needs.
An hour later and covered in far more blood than even she found comfortable, the two had made it to Oedon Chapel no worse for wear. At least, Catherine was still undying, and Adella had stopped squeaking at any noise most of the way through their escape. She was still shaking a touch, her knuckles white as they gripped the knife she had been given, and her wrists jerking in soft tremors any time the wind whistled a touch too loudly.
"You're safe now,' Catherine whispered, placing a reassuring hand on Adella's arm, pointing with the other at the sharp spires as they came into view. "We're in the Cathedral Ward, and we're at the Chapel."
Adella nodded, and very suddenly looked exhausted, as if the entire experience had caught up with her. She slumped, Catherine catching her by the elbows and supporting her weight.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes… I- I was of the belief I would never escape from that place. I thought it my tomb." She let out a weak groan, trying to pull herself away from Catherine. "You need not carry me, please. You've already done so much for me."
"It's no trouble."
Tiredly, she acquiesced, letting Catherine lead her into the Chapel, waving with her free arm at Elijah as he looked up from his little cubby.
"Oh? Catherine! How good to see you. You've brought another?" He asked excitedly, bobbing on the spot, before his expression crumpled into a frown as he set eyes on Adella. "Is she well? Oh my, oh my."
"It's fine, Elijah. Just tired, it's been a long day. Kidnapped, but..."
"Something that should be no trouble for one such as yourself."
"You could say that. Um…" Catherine frowned, waving him off before he got up and crawled his way over to help. "Is there anywhere I can set her down? She needs rest."
"Upstairs. Miss Emilie has been asking for you, as well as new travelers, Missus Arianna and a Mister Martin."
Oh. The old man.
"They both made it safely, then?"
"That they did," he stated with pride. "Thank you ever so much for helping them. It's good to know some are safe from the night."
Smiling weakly, Catherine offered a final bid to Elijah before walking up the stairs to the rooms above the Chapel, leading Adella to a room she knew to be open. Elijah had told her it would be hers if she wished, but Catherine had no need of sleep any longer, nor longed for a space of her own in this city.
It would be far too permanent. Like she was making a promise to Yharnam of her fidelity.
The door opened with a soft creak, and Catherine led Adella inside, sitting her on the bed.
"This can be your room," she said, looking about the quiet space. A small cot, bedside table, and a desk at the other side of the room bearing a few scraps of paper, an unlit candle, and a tiny stool sat in front of it. It was lit by the moonlight trickling in from above through a large window, a tattered curtain drawn open at either side and long sunbleached, making it a strange shade of pink. "Rest easy, alright?"
"What- what about yourself?" Adella asked softly, casting a sidelong glance to the bed. "You could…"
"I have no need for sleep. At least, not often. You've been through a lot, just worry about resting for now."
Nodding dizzily, Adella crawled under the covers, falling asleep almost instantly.
Catherine got up and shut the door quietly behind her, startling somewhat when another opened, and she turned to see… Arianna, she guessed, looking through the opening.
"Made it safely?" she asked, taking off her hat and grimacing at the thick red that clung to it.
"I did. You look like you've been through a trial. Did Hemwick fare you well?"
"Yeah… not much left of it once I was done."
"We could see the smoke from here. Emilie couldn't stop talking about 'the good witch Catherine'."
That brought a smile to her face. "Guess she's already taken a liking to you, huh? She's not... up, is she? I don't want her to see me like… well, wait." Catherine took out her wand and cast a few cleaning charms on herself, taking care of most of the blood but not the sticky feeling that would not go away unless she bathed or threw herself off a ledge. "That takes care of that."
"And here I thought it was all a child's imagination."
Arianna's eyes had widened, and she looked at Catherine with that strange expression she had given her earlier.
"You're not afraid of me?"
"You? No. Not much can scare me after so many years living here."
"I'd imagine that to be the case." Yawning, Catherine cupped a hand to her mouth, eyes fluttering. "Sorry."
"It's quite alright. Did you want to see her?"
"Just to know she's safe."
Catherine had seen so much the last few days and had her eyes opened to the depravity that Yharnam could stoop to. Mangled corpses of the unborn and a dank prison dripping with fear, guarded by something that by all accounts had died hundreds of years ago. Even children could know no safety here.
If only to give herself peace of mind, Catherine wished to see Emilie.
"Come in."
Opening the door further, Arianna invited Catherine across the hall. She stepped into a room identical to the one Adella was resting in, if only for the desk being replaced with another cot, very obviously dragged into the room from one of the others.
"A hunter named Eileen was just here the other day, said you knew her. She asked me to keep Emilie company in her stead,' Arianna stated, answering the question in her eyes. "A wonder she asked me of all people, but I seem to be the best option in this little refuge. Except perhaps that nun you've dragged in."
"What makes you such a bad choice? You seem just fine to me."
Arianna let out a good natured scoff, smiling at Catherine. "You still haven't realized, have you? You've got to figure that one out on your own, hunter."
"And you can't just tell me?"
"Where would the fun in that be?"
Too exhausted to play her game, Catherine sighed. "And is Emilie well?"
"As well as an orphan can be in this city," Arianna muttered, the light mood gone as she pushed down the fabric of her dress, a rich crimson and dotted with fine golden stitching. The garb of a noblewoman it looked like, even to Catherine's untrained eye, and standing out in stark relief against her honey-blonde hair.
Did nobles not rear their own children in this place? Were they looked on with derision?
"Not good, then."
"No. I'm afraid not."
Walking past Arianna, Catherine took the lonesome stool propped against the wall and sat it down next to Emilie's bed, the girl wrapped up in her sheets and sleeping fitfully. Her eyes danced beneath their lids, and her tiny hands clutched at the fabric of her blanket, tucked loosely beneath her chin.
Softly, she placed her hand on the girl's head, smoothing back her hair so gently as to not wake her.
Despite her best efforts, Catherine fell asleep there, hunched over that stool and her hand wrapped up in Emilie's own, their fingers laced together and, even if just a little, holding the nightmares at bay.