The mad hunter reminded me of Alexandria, in a way. The heroine had been indestructible, which wasn't something that my adversary had in common with her. What they did have in common was a disregard for physical attacks, an unfair amount of physical strength, and an unrelenting drive to accomplish their goals.
For one, that had meant convincing me that my friends were dying because of my actions. For the other, it meant smashing through pieces of solid stone that I kept trying to use as cover and using the flying debris as a secondhand weapon. We fought as brutes do, trading blows and weathering the hits. Healing when we could. Both of us were trying to be headstrong and smart about it.
I never even thought about going in for an attack if it meant getting severely maimed. The hunter seemed to be swinging for my one arm whenever he had the chance. He had hit me there twice, but had not succeeded in removing the limb so far. If he did, I would be dead again. No question.
The hunter on the other hand, figured out my tactic right away and started feinting with obvious openings that only left enough time for me to attack, but not retreat. When I was too far away to hit with the axe, he raised his large shotgun and would wait until I couldn't dodge before pulling the trigger. My only saving grace was being able to observe him using bugs, letting me have a better grasp on his intentions.
That alone saved me from a half dozen fatal blows.
As his assault against me extended, I started thinking. Sometime along the way I swept my gun up and had bugs load a blood bullet into it. The hunter had known Viola by name. He had shown as much when I mentioned it, as well as knowing she was Yharnam born. It suggested an intimate knowledge of her. Couple that with what the little girl told me, what I read on the music box, and I believed I was talking to Gascoigne.
Part of me wanted to ask about the little girl's wide mouth and Viola's last name, but I didn't have the time to address it.
A plan formed in my head, my hand stowing my weapon briefly to pull the music box from my pocket and toss it to the dark corner where my swarm was waiting. Gascoigne took the opportunity to get close and try behead me with his axe. My hand shifted from going to the saw cleaver to the gun and I performed a quick draw like you used to see in westerns.
I saw the bullet fucking bounce off of his chest, but the force of the shot put Gascoigne off balance. Dropping the gun, I darted close and pulled the saw cleaver out, then drove it bodily into his stomach. The blade only sunk in half an inch, but blood splashed and I dragged the cleaver across his body, prompting a huge spurt of blood as I tore the serrated thing from his chest.
My assault complete, I backed the fuck up, adjusting for the stairs my bugs told me were behind me. My caution was rewarded when Gascoigne's retaliating swing merely clipped my nose and didn't even touch my glasses. He grunted and holstered his gun, attaching it to a strap on his back and pulling it around so the gun was anchored near his shoulder. Then he gripped his axe and pulled the handle down. Where before the handle was about as long as an axe from my old world, now it was taller than Gascoigne.
He was advancing as I was retreating, so the distance between us was the same. He swung his axe again, overhead this time. Since his reach had extended while the distance between us hadn't, I dodged to the side, almost slipping on the steps. I caught myself and felt relief when I heard the axe impact on the staircase next to me. A few shards of stone hit me instead of an axe. Then I heard a click and looked to see Gascoigne had his shotgun back in hand and aimed at me.
"Don-" I started saying.
Gascoigne shot me, riddling me with shrapnel. There was a click as he loaded the gun.
"What's that smell?" He wondered aloud, then shot me again. This time the impact carried me backwards, landing me awkwardly on the stairs.
"The sweet blood, oh, it… sings… to me… Just… Just like..." He came to a faltering halt. There was the tiny sound of music in the air, it seemed to cause the whole world to crash around Gascoigne. My bugs carried the music box closer, but kept it in the shadows.
Gascoigne's hands dropped his equipment and he clutched at his head. He screamed, sobbed, and roared all at once. I had seen stuff like this before, people realising just how badly they had fucked up. The bugs wound up the music box as soon as it ended. Thankfully Gascoigne didn't come out of it as soon as the music stopped.
I jabbed a blood vial into my leg and clapped my hand over my mouth to stop the giggles. They still came, albeit muffled. The sensation of all that shrapnel moving out of my body was too much. Gascoigne's head snapped in my direction like an animal when it happened, but then it snapped in another direction, then another. There was spit flying from his mouth.
Slowly, I got to my feet and looked at him. My bugs delivered my weapons back to me and I made sure to take stock. I still had bullets, but they weren't much use here. There were only four blood vials left, and that was including Iosefka's. I gripped the handle of the saw cleaver and looked at Gascoigne.
He could still talk, meaning that he was not a beast by my definition, doubly so because he wasn't even showing a hint of the beastly transformation that had swept over Yharnam. That meant I immediately didn't want to kill him, yet I had been swept away by things and engaged in a fight where only one of us would leave. There hadn't been any hesitation.
Gascoigne was grief ridden, that much was plain to see from how he reacted to my accusation and then this. Then there was the how he knew my name. That just… didn't make sense.
Wait...
He understood me.
How had I missed that?
Was I getting blood drunk as well?
The music stopped for a moment and I had the bugs wind it up again. Gascoigne had started striking things around him. He hit the railing at first, then he stumbled over and hit the wall, then a tree, then a gravestone. The gravestone broke.
Killing him would be a mercy.
The thought came unbidden and made me grimace, but I couldn't deny it. Right now in this moment, if I killed Gascoigne I could find rest knowing that it was a mercy killing. Not quite euthenasia, but similar. On the other hand, I didn't really want to kill anyone…
Damnit, this place was changing me.
"Gascoigne!" I yelled, making my bugs stop the music. "Think of your little girl!"
He punched a tree, his bloodied fist going through the trunk and being pulled out in the same instant. His screaming stopped and he turned to face me with barely contained rage.
"You have a little girl at home!" I kept yelling. "She's still alive! She needs you!"
"Don't talk about her." Gascoigne growled. He didn't have his weapons, but the words made my hairs stand on end.
I moved to step between him and his weapons as a way to assure myself. The fact that it cut him off from the things he was using to kill me was a nice bonus. Gascoigne growled and started running at me, so I had the bugs release the wind up on the music box. The moment it played Gascoigne's priorities shifted to covering his ears and shaking the invading memories from his head.
After letting it play for ten or so seconds I stopped it again. "You can't lose yourself like this."
"What do you know!?" He yelled.
"More than you think." I said.
"Really now? Why don't you let me see what they did to you?"
That made me frown. "What who did to me?"
Silence filled the cemetery, choking us.
"Hah…" Gascoigne laughed, dead. "I see… Too proud to show your real face, eh…" He fell to his knees.
The moment his legs bent his body was wracked by something growing within. Gascoigne's clothes tore to accommodate the increased mass as his skin turned grey with growing fur. His face was suddenly that of a beast's, just as his hands became claws and his voice became a howl.
The beast that was Gascoigne charged straight for me. I pull my gun first and shot him off balance, getting the muzzle up just in time to interrupt his first swing. Like before I dropped the gun and went straight for the saw cleaver. I felt guilty doing this to someone who I had been exchanging words with just moments ago, but I dug into Gascoigne's chest for a second time with the saw cleaver, this time pulling more blood with me as I tore his insides out.
My attack made Gascoigne stagger, which I used to follow up with more cuts and slashes. That was a mistake. Gascoigne swung blindly at me, catching me with a backswing and throwing me from the staircase with the sheer strength of his strike. My leg caught on the wrought iron railing and lost feeling below where I got cut. Then I tumbled over and fell to the gravestones below.
A fall like that would have killed me until not too long ago. Now it just broke my legs, my back, and brought me close to death. White particles flitted around the edges of my vision. I dropped the saw cleaver and found a vial to heal with. The moment I felt the invigorating infusion start I realised I had made a mistake.
I fell down the stairs.
I giggled as the feeling in my legs returned and I pushed myself from the graves. Not a moment too soon, as Gascoigne dropped down where I had been, smashing the gravestones as he landed. He rose, breathing mist in my face as I relentlessly giggled despite everything. I writhed in the ticklish feeling.
My saw cleaver had been propelled somewhere. I didn't know where and I was giggling. While my constant cackling threw an even darker mood over me, I was still paying attention to Gascoigne and dived away when he brought both hands over his head. When he struck, dust spread explosively from the impact and I felt particles impact on my cloak.
Gascoigne was even stronger now, which was bullshit and kind of expected. I wasn't about to let this version of him try out any new strength on me, since even before his transformation he had caved in my chest with ease. I focused exclusively on dodging as I found my saw cleaver and gun and collected both.
The endeavour took me to the far side of the cemetery, and the bugs holding the music box left my range. Since I wasn't telling them to do anything, they started to wander and the music played again. Like before, there was a palpable effect on Gascoigne as the memories ripped through him. Even his now beast-like mind couldn't handle it.
Then it stopped and he came right back to trying to kill me with a furious howl.
I navigated back around the cemetery, now fully armed, and stayed near the music box. When Gascoigne got close I released the music, causing him to clutch at his head again. This time I attacked from his back and stopped the music in the same moment. I tried to dodge him, but got a claw across my chest for my trouble.
The music covered for me as I healed up. Then I went for his side. It repeated again, and again, and then I was out of blood vials.
I wasn't sure what to do. Gascoigne still had a lot of life in him and I couldn't risk going in like that again. Then my arm brushed against my other weapon. I had sixteen shots at the moment, including the blood bullets. When I ran out, I could make more for a time. After that…
I just had to hope that would be enough to kill him.
It took twenty four bullets to the head to finish the job. Making the blood bullets nearly killed me.
Gascoigne's final sounds sent chills down my spine as the night darkened.
~Drip~Drip~
**y***
When I finished killing Gascoigne he disappeared in the same way the Cleric Beast had. His body dissolving into light which then formed a lantern as well as a second item, a Key. It unlocked the gate at the top of the cemetery and I continued through, stopping only to retrieve the red brooch from Viola's corpse before leaving the place I had met Father Gascoigne behind.
Of course, first I gathered some blood vials and healed up. That fight had left me rough.
After splashing through some water and climbing a ladder, I found myself inside a small library. There was an item of interest in a lockbox that I looted, yielding a contraption with similar runes to the tool for blood bullets. Another thing from the Hunter's Dream.
There was a little one there on the table as well, holding a note.
It read, "The Byrgenwerth spider hides all manner of rituals, and keeps our lost master from us.
A terrible shame.
It makes my head shudder uncontrollably."
Three things jumped out at me from the passage. The first being the author's description of their head shuddering. There was something about it… Maybe it was the way it was written that reminded me of Lisa's thinker headaches. Was the author another parahuman? There wasn't a signature or anything to indicate who had written it.
The second was the capitalised Byrgenwerth. Another name to look out for, though this one seemed to describe a place rather than a person, since the message described a spider from there, or indicated possessiveness.
The third was the use of the word spider. I hadn't encountered any spiders since coming to Earth Yharm. It had been a constant worry nestling in the back of my mind that there wouldn't be any spiders here, and this note put that worry to rest. In its place a few dozen other questions arose.
If there were spiders, why weren't they widespread? What species of spiders existed here? Did they have black widows? Anything poisonous, but not lethal that I could add to my swarm? Was there something special about the Byrgenwerth Spider?
I took the note as a reminder, as well as more parchment to write on for when I needed to communicate. The little one holding it vanished into the table after doing a little excited dance. Maybe it was happy to be of service. Either way, it brought a hint of a smile to my face.
Up the stairs from there I encountered a problem, my bugs didn't want to follow me. I had walked up to a door when I realised they weren't following. There was a smell in the air that I recognised from the occupied doors and windows around Yharnam. Incense.
I hadn't realised how much my bugs averted it. When I directed my bugs to move through where the incense permeated, they simply refused to move. It was like they hit a wall that they could move away from, but if they tried to knock it down, their bodies just stopped.
No, that wasn't it. Some bugs made it through the incense. I checked the ones that could and came to a conclusion as to what the defining factor was. It was how far the beastly transformation had affected my bugs. There were two cockroaches that I had climb up my legs that had little or no fur growing from their carapace. No flies were able to join me, but some moths were. Surprisingly few ants could make it.
With my swarm reduced to less than a tenth of its size, I pushed the ornate doors slowly open.
I found myself in a church. It was sparsely lit, but from what candles were lit and from the small amount of light from outside I could make out carefully crafted details carved into every inch of this place. The amount of care that had been put into maintaining it was obvious as well, since the place was in a state of disrepair.
It seemed Cathedral Ward was just as gothic as Yharnam.
There was a lantern in the church that I touched, summoning the little ones. Just at the fringes of my range I could feel bugs flitting around a filthy man with a huge sack who was hitting his head against the wall of the church. It occured to me that I should use the echoes within me before venturing forth.
I crouched down and let one of the little ones start to pull me away. Movement from behind me made me start to look in that direction, but I was gone before I could get a look at whatever it was.
~Drip~Drip~
*** **** *** I **
"Welcome home, good hunter." Doll greeted me as I appeared in the dream.
I walked towards her. "Doll…" A sensation unlike anything I had felt before overwhelmed me. I stopped far away from her, trying to pin it down. Anticipation?
"Taylor…" Doll caught on to my uncertainty. "What is it you desire?"
"I…" I didn't know. But I did have echoes coursing through me. The Cleric Beast and Father Gascoigne. They were more active in Doll's presence, and were raging through my bloodstream. They wanted to get out. Maybe it wasn't me feeling this.
I raised my arm to where Doll needed it to use her power and she understood. She knelt and summoned her silver orb as I shut my eyes. This time I wasn't shown a void. Rather, I was seeing new visions. But they were blurry, I couldn't make anything out.
"How would you prefer to let these echoes become your strength?" Doll asked softly.
I thought for a moment, taking my time. "These echoes, how do they compare to what you used before?"
"Two stand out from the rest." Doll said.
"How would they best be used?"
"Hmm..." Doll hummed, focusing for a moment. We didn't speak while she found an answer to my question.
"One echo holds great presence within you." Doll told me. "It weathered many trials and punishments, and the blood rewarded it for its devotion."
"Good for strengthening the body?" I checked.
"Yes."
"And the other?"
"The other is very refined. It isn't much larger than the others in the sea of echoes you collected during your hunt, but there is an edge to it."
"Strength for that one, then." I recalled how Father Gascoigne had backhanded me from the stairs. Yeah, strength fit.
"What would you like from the rest of your echoes?"
"Skill." I instantly answered. If it helped me put my cleaver in the right places or assisted me with swapping weapons, it would be worth it. Even if beasts didn't have much skill, it was going to be added to my own. I wasn't losing out with this.
"Very well." Doll activated her power and the visions assaulted me. I was more prepared for them this time, and didn't feel the need to scream. That being said, there was a thread of visions that I watched fly past with interest.
I kept my eyes closed as a tear slid down my cheek.
"Taylor?" Doll asked, concerned. "Good Hunter?"
I opened my eyes and met Doll's. I looked down at the constellations in my arm and lifted it up. My physical hand wrapped around the wrist of the incorporeal, and squeezed lightly to see how much stress it could take. I felt it on both ends, but the pale barrier broke instantly and the smoke dissipated in a moment.
I struggled to find the words to say.
"What is troubling you?" Doll questioned.
I looked away, letting my gaze fall upon the moon. "It's nothing." I said. "There's nothing to be done about it now."
"I understand." Doll said.
She didn't. I walked away, up the stairs of the garden to be closer to the moon. I stopped by a gravestone without a name on it and leaned on the stone for a time. Eventually the words found me.
"Gascoigne, you utter brat…"
