Chapter 25

"My friends and companions stand aloof from my plague, and my nearest kin stand far off."

Book of the Healing Church 38:11

"May you find your worth in the waking world." Her voice chased after his slipping, nauseated spirit. He barely caught her gentle words because he was greeted with repeated thwacks, close shouting, and thundering howling.

Opening his eyes, Fredricx would have used the word "chaotic" to describe the scene before him, but that would have required conscious, upper level functioning of his brain. Instead, he stared into the moonlight, being jostled and prodded by the third Hunter, who had already jammed a few blood vials through Fredricx's clothes and skin into the surrounding tissues.

He sprung into sitting, expelling a heave of who knows what from his lungs. His bones wracked into place or maybe slightly out of place. Fredricx stared wildly at the tertiary Hunter, who gripped Fredricx's forearm and pulled him gingerly to his feet.

Unsteady, he felt so unsteady. The bridge seemed to shake as the beast battled with Adullam and Gascoigne. Who was doing the quivering?

"Fredricx," the third Hunter spouted. He handed the cane over. "Let's go."

Fredricx nodded to no rhythm in particular. He trailed after the forerunner, feeling his blood pressure start to rise upon standing and the warm euphoria creeped in on him. Mental clarity followed moments after.

Had not he just been cupped in the beast's claws and thrown across the way? Had he just not made spine crunching impact with the architecture?

"I hope you dreamt well, Fred," Adullam shouted, sounding barely winded despite the dance he did about the feet of the monster, "Lend your weapon in this direction perhaps?"

Fredricx honored the request, unhooking the tight links into goosy ones. As the beast bent to snap at one of the others, Fredricx brought the whip up and smashed it halfway around the muzzle of the beast. This was effective blow, but also in causing it to change target.

Instinctively, his teeth gritted in a preemptive flinch. Claws came after him, but would not be successful this time as Adullam had come from behind, using his sword to detach the very digitals that threatened him.

Red splattered everywhere in a few meter radius, coloring Fredricx's coat anew. The smell was ripe, caustic to the nostrils.

The beast recoiled, doubling over to the far side. This was not enough of a retreat as Gascoigne was ready. Despite the lack of razor sharpness, his ax was applied with enough blunt force to embed itself into the thigh of the creature. It was so foregone that pulling at the handle did nothing to relieve it from its sinew casing. The owner retreated with cursing and the leveling of his firearm.

The beast stumbled around, pivoting on its now useless limb. It was as if the sun had just risen on Fredricx's resting brain. He aimed the whip toward the uninjured ankle. It seemed more of tickle than the desired effect. Fortunately, there was no retaliation for the small lashing. He attempted again and again, but only managed small dents in fur. In fact, it was more of a hair restyling than injury.

The beast, despite being much slower now, still managed to surprise him, kicking him to the ground before having a chance to dart in any direction. First, it would still attempt to quell him as he was laid out on his back. Shots fired from at least two firearms.

The ringing would have been unbearable if it was not for that it prevented a too intimate meeting with the cobblestone.

Fredricx scrambled to his feet, which rocked in his boots. He attempted his plan again, sprinting after the beast, who had retreated. It hobbled and lunged toward the Church as if to just push itself over the gate and be free of the pests that were the Hunters.

The whip was cast toward the beast. It was snapped at just the angle to grab and wrap around the hind leg of the creature. The links bit into fur and clambered about themselves to lock and knot. Fredricx pulled, but not with the intention of release. Just as the ax, another weapon was lost to the beast. However, Fredricx still held the handle, steeling his position.

The beast attempted forward, but not before snagging backwards. It could get little traction with the other limp leg. Despite this, it gave hearty effort in resisting Fredricx. Its muscles were not visible underneath all of the matted fur, but they were straining. Naturally, Fredricx was too.

It was weightier and far stronger than the Hunter. Thankfully, the others understood the cue and clammored toward the creature. It was momentarily stationary with one limp leg and the other restrained. Arms flailed wildly in every direction. It was a desperate, animalistic attempt to be released.

It would barely be worth the effort on the part of the beast. Clearly, it was nearing its end. As the monster strained, it tightened the whip about its own ankle, cutting and embedding to its own agony. The beast was not quiet. Instead, it roared, grunted, howled, and ground its teeth at them. It was as if the creature knew of its own mortality, having switched from fight to flight.

Fredricx's whole body was already aching from being an anchor to a most wriggly ship. His muscles already pleaded for loosening of their fibers. Fire was lit inside his very being. His own body would do him in and not the claws, teeth, or limbs of this anxious beast.

Appropriately, the creature either gained enough sense or had found a stroke of luck as its amputated hand, still foaming, struck Fredricx. He was knocked to the ground, skidding slightly upon impact, which was only stopped by his resolve to grip the cane. It caught him and there were two distinct cracks in his shoulders, forcing him to release the weapon.

Fredricx, who was stretched out on the ground, watched as the beast was not prepared for the sudden force. It overcompensated its pulling and toppled, crushing the sound leg with its own weight.

It screamed, spraying spittle and blood all over Adullam and Gascoigne as they approached its face. Of all actions, Gascoigne snatched the sword from Adullam's fingers, and even more surprisingly, Adullam let go.

"I'll allow you," Adullam gave a head dip despite the disrespect.

Gingerly, Gascoigne did not bother to pass back the formality. His ax was under a mountain of flesh.

Gascoigne plunged it into the beast's face over and over. For once, Fredricx was glad he was laid out on the cobblestone, not seeing the less than picturesque view. It cried as Gascoigne did so, but that did not last more than a few moments. The crying became whimpering, which was cut off mid stream altogether. Red petered off the tip of Adullam's sword, pooling in the street.

Gascoigne laughed. No, he cackled. His face was turned up toward the moon. His whole body seemed stiff. Adullam stiffened too. His firearm moved slowly underneath his coat.

"Kos," Adullam swore or perhaps prayed.

Gascoigne was suddenly no longer as cooperative. Not that Fredricx could tell from his position on the ground, but that Adullam's expression changed from a victorious smirk to a wide eyed scowl.

"Good Hunter," Adullam attempted to smooth over, "Father Gascoigne, thank you for responding to the bell's toll. You were certainly a valiant part of the beast's demise."

Gascoigne advanced on Adullam in a less than amiable way.

"Oh," Adullam placated, taking a step backwards. "You would not think to end my debt to the Church, would you?" He chuckled, but it was forced and deliberately awkward.

Gascoigne's response was that of a snort, forcing air quickly from his nose. Would he turn on the Hunter that had just saved his life? Would he use Adullam's very weapon?

The answer seemed to be yes. Luckily, the sword was not Gascoigne's weapon of choice. He swung it clunkily, but Adullam was too fast.

The third Hunter pulled Fredricx involuntarily to his feet by one of the shoulders. His whole body gave protest. His arms were definitely not aligned in their natural way.

Adullam, avoiding yet another swing, rolled the beast over on its back. The ax looked a little more mailable among the limp corpse. He pulled it out and transformed the weapon to have a slightly longer handle.

"Are you waiting for an invitation from the Queen herself?" Adullam bantered. He turned to Fredricx, "Fred, I'll find you eventually."

The tertiary Hunter, who was stout and broad shouldered, was dressed less flamboyantly than the other Hunters. "Fredricx," he snapped, and Fredricx eyed truly him for the first time.

"Lucas?"

"You just realized?" There was a tone of exasperation. "Let's go."

This was truly unbelievable, and he was unsure if it was in another hallucination. If it was, Fredricx was seriously questioning his launatcy. If it was not, Lucas would receive the serious questioning. He looked strengthened, not hunched over by his cough with his own blood and spit dribbled down the front of his clothes. Even his slight limp was gone.

XXXX

There was what seemed like a hundred questions to ask. Some were angry and pointed. Others were happy, riddled with tickled surprise. However, he was caught between the two mediums and asked nothing at all. Not yet, anyway.

Lucas was talking. He always talked. He always had something to say about something, and sometimes, he had something to say about nothing too.

To be truthful, Fredricx was not really listening. He trailed behind Lucas, who was absent mindedly toting about his weapon, which was a mixture of a straight saw blade with deep ridged teeth and that of a butcher's cleaver. It had a pulley system with a long, currently folded, handle. In the other hand, Lucas held loosely at the grip of a pistol.

There was no coughing to interrupt his stream of words. No whooping or spitting out the gunk from his lungs to stop him. His posture was straight. It seemed like his muscles were not aching from the constant contracting. He was not slightly pale or disheveled. He seemed well, quite well.

Despite the moon smell and the trick weapons, he lacked the guise of a Hunter. He had no flamboyant coat like Adullam or no black, other worldly rags like Gascoigne.

He was dressed in his clothes, the very ones Fredricx had seen hundreds of times. His collared shirt had seen better days and pants were disfigured with blood. He wore the same suspenders that barely served their purpose anymore. The elastic was long gone, many years gone.

"I wondered if I would ever find you, and then you were there." There was a long pause and a throat clearing, which seemed more habitual than medically necessary. "I wondered if I would ever find you." Lucas turned, halting. Perhaps, it was for emphasis. "Fredricx."

When were the beasts when you needed them? Fredricx stopped parallel with the other. They made eye contact. It felt unnatural for the first time since their very meeting decades ago.

"Where is Ettie?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Where is Ettie?" Fredricx insisted. Glancing down at the ring on his smallest finger, he swallowed.

"I," Lucas began, "I don't know. You went after her in Old Yharnam. Did you find her?"

He shook his head, wrapping up his cane in tension.

"What happened?"

"I had her, but I got hurt. They took me to the clinic. I woke up, and she was gone. The doctor did not recall her. I went back to your apartment." There was a pause, a rather lengthy pause. Fortunately, the beast had not been Lucas. It only softened the betrayal ever so slightly. "Why are you here?"

"What?" Lucas retorted.

XXXX

Fredricx had not even minded their path.

The curtain flew open again, revealing the same strawberry blonde girl with ghostly skin and the ever slight touch of freckles. There was a hesitant smile. "Hunter, you came back! Will you find my mum now?"

She looked so hopeful, teetering to the point of her starch white bow quivering in her hair. She gripped the curtain so tightly that it would be free of its wrinkles upon her release. "Please?"

It was strange that she willed help from a Hunter, who were not categorically friendly to anyone, not their own and especially not to children. Did her fear guide her misplaced trust? Or was she not misguided at all?

Lucas shot question daggers at him. Luckily, these were metaphorical daggers and not real ones. He had already been stabbed too many times already tonight.

It would not hurt to just pacify the girl. She might feel better if he would just tell her what she wanted to hear. She did, after all, have to realIe that there was almost no chance that Fredricx would ever find her in this rotten city. This could be because Yharnam was rather large or something far more minister had happened to the mother. Not that he had come across any non Hunter, non beast humans, but he supposed that if just happened upon her while he looked for Ettie, then he would be morally obligated to return her.

"What does she look like?" Fredricx asked.

There was quite the grin that intensified immediately. "Does that mean you will find her?" Fredricx thought she might earthquake the entire building down with her excited bobbing. He nodded. "Really? Oh, thank you! My m-mum wears a red jeweled brooch. It's so big and... and beautiful. You won't miss it."

He seriously doubted that he would find a common woman, who was out on the night of the Hunt with a ruby brooch would still be alive or would be for much longer. It was likely stolen, and if that would have been the greatest perpetrator's sin, then she would be the luckiest person tonight.

He gave another nod and another look toward Lucas, who seemed in agreement. "Girl, keep the curtain closed." This would at least help not to attract any unruly beasts or Hunters for that matter.

Find Ettie. Assure her safety. Find little girl's mum. Return her home. Find Ettie. Assure her safety. Find little girl's mum. Return her home.

"Oh, I mustn't forget," she interrupted his mental list, "Wait there!" She shrieked and the curtain fell closed behind her scrambling. The small human reappeared either short or long moments later. "If you find my mum, give her this music box. It plays one of daddy's favorite songs." It took all of her might to crack the window ever so slightly, but then she stopped. "Promise you will find her?"

Again, Fredricx was unsure if this was an inquiry or imperative. Not desiring to crush her small glimmer of light in this dreadful night, he nodded yet again.

"Say it."

"I promise."

An audible cheer erupted, and she tilted the box out sideways to hand it to him. He accepted the box, which was surprisingly heavy and ornate. It was not a wooden box with trinket mechanics. This was an artisan's work, decorated in metallic vines with a hefty hinge.

"And when daddy forgets us, we play it for him so he remembers. Mum's so silly, running off without it!"

Fredricx shifted the cane under one arm and opened the box. There was a small animal inside, a ceramic one that is, and a knob. The lid was inscribed, but he did not pay too much mind. Twisting the knob, the internal workings gritted and clunked as if from much use, but sure enough, a calming tune played for a few seconds before slowing and halting. He clasped the box tight and dropped it into a pocket, which weighed his jacket to one side.

The child continued to stare at him.

"Shut the window," he said.

She obliged, well attempted. The girl's small hands could not quite muster the force to side the window on old tracks.

Fredricx, placing a palm on the outside of the glass, slid it closed.

She added, "Please find my mum and give her the box. Please, I know you can do it."

Find Ettie. Assure her safety. Find little girl's mum. Return her home. Find Ettie. Assure her safety. Find little girl's mum. Return her home.

Author Note: thanks to Echoclonet for reviewing an older chapter. You are awesome.