Of all the nights it had to rain…
Trembling hands gripped the rungs of the ladder. He pulled himself up carefully, letting out a surprised gasp as he nearly lost his footing on the slippery surface. Dipper didn't dare make the mistake of looking down, but he could tell that a fall from his current height would spell certain death.
It was only when he could see the damp cobblestone that he relaxed, pulling himself the rest of the way up and collapsing onto his knees. Nearly there. And no beasts to worry about for once. That's good.
As Dipper continued his trek down the long street leading into the Tomb of Oedun, his hands automatically found the grip of his trick weapon. The last time Dipper had gone down this path, a mob of rabid townsfolk had been waiting to ambush him, armed with strength in numbers and a well-placed flaming boulder that had nearly crushed the boy flat. The unrelenting downpour seemed to be the only obstacle in the young hunter's path this time, causing him to pull his coat tighter around his shoulders. Nevertheless, he pulled back the lever for his firearm, hands gripping the weapon vigilantly.
What had once been a broken hunter blunderbuss, Gehrman had helped Dipper refashion into a weapon more suited to the boy's needs. The blunderbuss now functioned similar to a traditional shotgun in its simple form, albeit one with a blade welded onto its stock. When transformed, however, Dipper could unveil a saw sword hidden in the gun's mechanisms. The split blunderbuss would help give the twin breathing room against the beasts, while the saw sword would finish them off.
Dipper let out a relieved sigh as he approached the entrance. He had not wanted to come back here, especially after the brush with death he had the last time he was in the graveyard. But it had been a while since the young hunter had checked on the survivors in Oedun Chapel. In addition, the low visibility made it nigh impossible to return to the Hunter's Dream without getting ambushed by the townsfolk, or worse horrors. So here he was, taking the long way back.
An ocean of gravestones and fog greeted Dipper as he entered the tomb. His wary eyes spotted the doorway to the chapel quickly, and he wasted no time rushing toward it. No beasts, no rain, just a nice, quick run to—
The crack of a firearm cut off Dipper's train of thought…and his hope.
The sudden sting of a bullet tore through the boy's upper thigh. A pained yelp escaped his lips, and he staggered to the ground, hands reaching for the shotgun and aiming it towards his hidden adversary.
The yellow garb, stained with fresh and dried blood, helped Dipper quickly spot the hunter who wore it. "Going somewhere?" the assailant spoke, dragging the extended blade of his saw cleaver along the gravestone as he approached.
Dipper kept his mouth clamped shut, instead pulling back the firing lever for the weapon.
"I wouldn't," the newcomer growled, aiming his own hunter pistol in warning. "I've been shooting this thing for years, boy. I don't miss."
The boy in question kept his gaze trained on the hunter, taking note of the lines across the older man's face. The assailant's eyes shone with bitterness and cruelty, traits Dipper had grown used to seeing more in beasts than in fellow hunters. What does this guy want? Who is he? A light bulb went off in the boy's head. Eileen mentioned a hunter going mad. What was his name, Harry? Henry? No, Henryk. His name's Henryk.
Dipper reluctantly lowered the shotgun. He suppressed a groan as he stood up, the hostile hunter's own firearm following the boy's movements.
"It's a bit late for a young man like you to be out on your own, don't you think?" the hunter—Henryk—spoke up, stepping closer to the twin. "Still, if you're really a hunter, I must say congratulations on making it this far."
The teen kept his free hand in reach of his weapon, but he knew it wouldn't do much good. Always fear an old man in a profession where men usually die young. Guess that holds true for hunters, too. "Go on then," the boy dared, surprised at how much venom he was able to inject into his tone. "Finish the job. Put this simple hunt behind you for a change."
"If anything, this hunt has been a hard one for me," the older man replied, his voice carrying a weight of guilt to it. "My hunting partner and I got separated. I followed him here, but he was already dead, murdered by a monster."
Dipper narrowed his eyes at the hostile hunter. What's he getting at? I didn't see any dead… His thoughts trailed off as the pieces began to click. Oh no.
"And the crazy thing is…this monster looked a lot like a young boy," Henryk finished, turning his cold, cunning eyes to Dipper.
The revelation washed over Dipper faster than he could process. How could I have not seen it sooner? "You're Gascoigne's partner," the teen realized, his aim with the blunderbuss wavering. "Look, whatever you saw, it wasn't what it looked like. He lost it completely."
"Oh?" the older hunter mocked, stepping closer. "Who was it that attacked him in this graveyard? Who was it that caused him to lose himself to the beast inside?"
The sudden strike with the cleaver tore the breath from Dipper's lungs. He gasped for air, eyes going wide as blood flowed from the wound in his neck.
"Who was it that ripped out a piece of my soul and smashed it on the ground?!" Henryk roared, the cracking voice highlighting his grief. He gave Dipper no chance to stem the bleeding injury, delivering a swift kick to the gut that made the twin's struggle to breathe even more difficult. "That! Was! You!"
Dipper swiftly lashed out with his saw sword, the serrated blade catching his adversary off guard. The boy took the slim chance to plunge a blood syringe into his neck. The warmth quickly mended his severed muscles and skin, and he couldn't be more grateful for the rush of air entering his lungs. "I'm…sorry…" he gasped out, straining to turn his head toward the hostile hunter. "I…I didn't…"
"Apologies won't suffice, boy!" Henryk spat out, grabbing the twin by the scruff of his coat. He swiftly raised the cleaver over his head, ready to deal a killing blow. "Say hello to my partner for me!"
"Tell him yourself, scum."
The crack of a gunshot compounded the newcomer's voice. Henryk yowled in agony as the bullet pierced his side, casting his fiery gaze to the shooter.
Dipper recognized the feathers of Eileen's cloak instantly. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd spotted the hunter following him around Yharnam like a mother would follow her child. The hunter of hunters wasted no time rushing toward her enemy, her twin blades raised to strike true. Henryk sidestepped the slash, and retaliated with a swipe of his cleaver, drawing blood from Eileen's shoulder.
Dipper saw the slim opening and took it, sending his full weight crashing into Henryk's ribs. The impact was miniscule compared to the damage Eileen's bullet did, but the boy's efforts did allow him enough room to wrestle his way out of the mad hunter's grasp. Eileen followed up with a swift kick to Henryk's midsection, a sign that the crow hunter was all too eager to join in the melee.
"Lower your weapons, Henryk," Eileen commanded, standing between Dipper and the hostile hunter. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
"Go to hell!" Henryk seethed, reaching for his pistol.
Dipper's eyes widened as he turned to face his ally. "Get down!" he hollered.
Eileen threw herself behind the nearest tombstone as her adversary fired his pistol. The roar of gunfire echoed through the cemetery. Quicksilver bullets created sparks as they bounced off the crow hunter's crude cover, a sign that Henryk was more focused on her than Dipper.
I gotta do something. She won't last much longer. Dipper quickly scanned the area for his own trick weapon, eyes lighting up once he found it. A quick flick of the weapon's switch secured the saw sword in its holster, transforming the weapon back into its original state.
The crack of the blunderbuss as it fired in Henryk's direction echoed throughout the graveyard. Both enemy and ally whipped their heads toward the boy, drawn to the deafening sound.
And to Dipper, that was the entire point.
"Hey!" the young hunter hollered, waving his arms in an effort to draw his adversary's attention. "You want a fight? I'll give you a fight!"
Henryk's cold eyes narrowed as he rushed forward, accepting the twin's challenge. Dipper quickly fired the blunderbuss once more. Henryk was quicker this time, the pellets catching on his clothing as he sidestepped the gunfire.
Okay, this went a lot better in my head. Dipper fired again, and again Henryk avoided the shot. Another blast, and Henryk rolled behind a pile of gravestones to shield himself. The boy swallowed his fear as he caught the mad hunter's enraged gaze. He quickly reached for more bullets, his trembling hands a detriment as he struggled to reload the gun.
The split second of panic, however, was all the opportunity Henryk needed. Dipper grimaced as the hostile hunter delivered a kick to the boy's injured thigh. The twin staggered, allowing Henryk to send the boy flying into a gravestone with a swipe of the cleaver.
As he rubbed his aching head, Dipper could barely make out his blunderbuss, lying just beyond his reach. Need to…get there. Can't die…not yet. Mabel's caring face flashed in his mind, giving the twin the motivation he needed to crawl toward his trick weapon.
A boot slamming down on his hand prevented him from getting far. Dipper couldn't stop the pained cry that left his throat.
"You wanted this, did you not?" Henryk crudely reminded the boy. "Here's a tip when it comes to playing games, boy: don't challenge people who are better at the game than you are!"
Henryk compounded the statement with a swift kick to Dipper's side, forcing the twin to roll onto his back. As he glanced over his head, he could spot his weapon lying beside him, just out of reach.
Dipper saw the opportunity and took it. The saw sword detached from its sheath with ease, and Dipper lashed out, his aim directed toward the hunter's throat. The blow staggered Henryk long enough for the boy to regain his footing. Henryk swiftly retrieved his saw cleaver, the blade extended as he prepared to rush his enemy once more.
When the combined twin blades pierced Henryk's chest, in took a moment for Dipper to register over the pain. Henryk gasped, blood flowing from his lips as Eileen tore the blades out with enough force to tear through the mad hunter's flesh. Henryk gurgled, casting his terrified gaze to the younger hunter as he stumbled to the ground.
"My beautiful granddaughter," Henryk whispered, hands pressing against the wound in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. "Please…spare her…" A shuddering breath escaped the mad hunter's lips, sorrow-filled eyes glazing over as they glanced up at Dipper. The hand slipped to the ground, never to rise again.
Another hunter had fallen victim to the nightmare.
As silence washed over the cemetery once more, Dipper tried his best to swallow the bile building in his throat. He forced himself to look away from his fallen enemy's lifeless form, casting a solemn glance toward Eileen. Glad she stepped in when she did. I don't want to think about how fighting Henryk would've gone otherwise.
Dipper jolted when the masked hunter decided to break the silence. "That wasn't necessary of you," Eileen rasped out, the aftermath of the fight taking a toll on her lungs, "but you have my thanks. We made it with our lives. You're not bad at all."
The boy rubbed the back of his neck. "I should be the one thanking you," he pointed out, trying his best to lock eyes with the hunter.
"If you want to thank me, try taking the advice I offer you next time," Eileen replied, her stern voice giving the impression of a disappointed mother. "I won't be round every time you get into trouble."
"Well then, I best make sure trouble doesn't keep finding me," Dipper muttered, turning his gaze to the body. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop Henryk's vacant, lifeless eyes from burning into the twin's memory. He tried to cut us both up. He sliced my neck open. He…oh, who am I kidding? Even he didn't deserve this.
A gentle hand on Dipper shoulder let him know that Eileen had caught on to the young hunter's guilt. "You must've killed Gascoigne as well, then?"
Dipper hastily nodded his head. "I had to…" he whispered, pain seeping through the subtle crack in his voice. "I get that he was going insane, but he was trapped here same as—"
"Don't," Eileen interrupted, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. "Gascoigne was falling apart, they both were…I'm sure it had to be done. You can't save everyone, no matter how hard you try."
"Thanks for the wise words," Dipper sarcastically challenged, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Henryk's corpse. "I feel better already."
The hunter of hunters knelt in front of the boy, allowing Dipper a chance to look her in the eye…or as best as he could with her mask blocking the view. "Dipper, listen to me. Did you know Gascoigne would attack you?"
"No," the boy answered, his mind silently asking where this conversation was heading.
"Did you try to talk some sense into him? Did you try to get him to stop?"
Dipper nodded his head. Gascoigne's daughter had innocently given the twin a music box she normally used to help Gascoigne come to his senses. Employing it in the boy's fight with the mad hunter had proven useful…for a while.
"And did you see any point where you knew Gascoigne was too far gone?" Eileen asked, taking his trembling hand in her own.
"I…I did," Dipper nodded again. A chill crawled up his back as his mind recalled Gascoigne's beastly features. The jagged nails, the torn clothing, the feral attacks which would have made more sense coming from a werewolf than a seasoned hunter. In his haste, the boy had tried the music box one more time, praying that it would work. The ghastly roar Gascoigne let out at that moment signaled that the hunter and father was gone, and that only the rabid beast remained.
"Then you did everything you could," Eileen said, her reassuring tone a declaration that she would argue no more with Dipper on the subject. She stood back up, collecting her fallen blades and pistol before turning to leave. "Just try to keep your hands clean next time. A hunter should hunt beasts. Leave the hunting of hunters to me."
The boy watched her leave with worried eyes. How is she so…calm? I get that she's been here longer than I have, but…she's still human. And as unsettling as Eileen's own humanity was, the nonchalant way she handled Gascoigne's death haunted Dipper even more. It was almost as if the crow hunter had grown used to being a prisoner in the Dream. I can't let that happen to me, too.
Dipper took a deep breath to calm his frantic nerves, before collecting his weapon and continuing his trek to Oedun Chapel.
He had some fellow survivors to check on, after all.
Blood continued to pour out of the laceration, and Eileen the Crow grimaced.
What a fool you are. A stupid, stupid fool. Maybe it was her limited time in the nightmare finally catching up to her, or maybe she'd grown too comfortable with the hunt and her own skills. Either way, the large slash across her chest served as an agonizing consequence of whatever her mistake had been.
Get up. Some hunter will come along eventually, and they won't think twice about killing you. Eileen listened to the voice in her head that had kept her out of death's grasp for so long. Her body, however, refused to obey her mind's order to stand up. Not that it mattered much with her vision beginning to close in on itself.
"Eileen?"
The worried voice snapped the crow hunter out of her daze. She let out a pained hiss as she turned her head, immensely grateful for the mask's ability to hide her suffering from the newcomer. It took her eyes a second to focus through the mask and the waves of agony, but she could make out some defining features. The short stature, the unique trick weapon he armed himself with. The weird birthmark on his forehead, hidden beneath his hair.
"Oh," Eileen breathed, her grip on her trick weapon relaxing. "Is that you again?"
The young hunter—Dipper, she remembered—quickly knelt beside her. "It's me," he reassured her, placing a trembling hand on the crow hunter's wound. "Are you all right?"
"I'm afraid I've made a bit of a blunder," she spoke, wincing as the boy continued to put pressure on her wound. "I'm just going to have a short rest."
The young hunter ignored her calming words, instead peeling back the feathered garb. "That looks bad," Dipper replied, his voice highlighting his growing panic. "Don't worry. I can fix this." He swiftly reached into his coat pocket, fingers latching onto a blood vial and a syringe.
"Dipper," Eileen spoke, reaching out to grab the hand with the syringe. "It's not bad. I've taken blood, enough to save an old woman—"
"It's not enough if you're still bleeding," the boy concernedly stammered. He quickly yanked his arm out of the crow hunter's grip, and jabbed the syringe into the wound. Even as the warmth of fresh Yharnamite blood flowed through Eileen's veins, she couldn't help but pity the young hunter trying to save her. Even the blood had its limits, limits which showed more the longer hunters spent in limbo. Can't say I blame him. He's too young to understand, too young to be caught up in all this, even.
Her own worry began to resurface as the familiar hatred she'd seen in so many blood-drunk hunters filled Dipper's eyes. "The beast who did this," he spoke, venom dripping with every syllable. "Tell me he's dead."
"My prey was no beast," Eileen bit out, "but he suffered worse than I did. I made sure of it."
It was true. The gaping slash from her adversary's Chikage was nothing compared to the way she'd nearly severed the Bloody Crow of Cainhurst's head from his shoulders. He had fought ruthlessly, his swift strikes a match for Eileen's own skills. The blood-drunk hunter, however, had relied too much on his weapon's blood-imbued power, too mad to process how much of a toll it took on his body. In the end, Eileen's Blades of Mercy had cut him down just like all the others.
Dipper nodded his head in cold contentment, allowing himself to finally slump down beside the woman. Eileen watched him with weary eyes. So young, so innocent. He reminds me so much of… The hunters of hunters reluctantly shook the thoughts from her mind. Focus on the hunt. Focus on making it out. That's all that matters.
Still, as she eyed the boy sitting beside her, she couldn't stop herself from silently asking a single question: Why?
Had any other hunter happened upon her in her weakened state, they would've struck her down in a heartbeat. They wouldn't have shown her such false hope, let alone try to heal her wounds. Yet Dipper had cast aside his weapon and rushed to her aid without thinking twice. In vain, Eileen reminded herself. The darkness claimed this town long ago. One source of light won't make a difference.
"Why do you keep pushing yourself like this?"
Eileen mentally cursed, silently wishing she could take back the words which spilled out of her mouth. If Dipper had seen any sign of the crow hunter's frustration, he didn't show it. He instead turned his head towards her, a faint spark of light in his eyes.
"Do you have family?" he asked, his voice trembling with the weight of his stress. "Someone you wish you could go back home to?"
Eileen shuddered, the damning memories taking the question as their cue to torment their owner. The sights and sounds still haunted her. The noise from the kitchen which had startled her awake that night. Her panicked breaths as she stared down the barrel of the robber's shotgun. The frightened voice of a child. The echo as the gun fired.
The way her hands trembled as she tried to keep both herself and her young grandson from bleeding out.
"I did once," she spoke, swallowing the lump in her throat. It's probably best to keep the details to myself. "It's just…it's been so long since I last saw them. You?"
"A twin sister," Dipper said. "Mabel. She wouldn't be alive if I hadn't saved her from that car. I thought that was it, that this was how I was going to die, but then I woke up in this place."
Eileen smirked. "What a horrible mess we got ourselves into, eh?"
Dipper returned the smile, letting out a lighthearted chuckle, perhaps the first sign of happiness Eileen had seen in months. "At least we have each other," he boy spoke up.
"At least until you go mad," Eileen hopelessly muttered.
"Says who?"
Lord, I don't know how I can convince him. "I don't seem to be apt for this life anymore," the crow hunter wearily replied, letting out a stress-filled sigh. "Other hunters have people they can rely on, but hunters of hunters, we work alone. If there's anything I've learned, hunting hunters who have no hope left…it's that its best to leave your own hope at the door."
It took effort on her part to conjure back up the memory of the first hunter she put down. A mad one who had become so drunk on the bloodlust that he had taken to drinking the blood of his victims. Eileen remembered the tears slipping down her eyes as she placed the mad hunter's corpse in a mass grave to burn with all the other beasts. She had stopped crying once she had slain her third or fourth hunter. She had stopped caring once her body count reached double digits. He'll go mad eventually. They all do in the end.
A gentle hand in her own pulled Eileen out of her thoughts. "Eileen," Dipper started, "I know what it's like to not want to trust people. But you saved my life once, and I'm not going to sit here and do nothing to save you. You don't have to be alone."
For what felt like ages, the two hunters sat there, hands held and eyes taking in the sight of the blood moon. Eileen couldn't remember the last time she had enjoyed a serene moment. The crow hunter had been too busy putting blood-drunk hunters down like mad dogs. There were few peaceful things left in Yharnam, and a good hunting partner by one's side was one of them. Eileen couldn't recall the last time she'd been given such a blessing. She could only imagine that the young hunter was thinking something similar.
Dipper was the first to turn his gaze from the sight of the bloodied moon. He reluctantly pulled his hand out of Eileen's grasp, and stood up to leave. It took everything Eileen had to keep from reaching out for him again. He can't stay, her thoughts whispered to her. He has his own hunt to get back to.
It was when the twin reached the steps that he stopped, turning his warm gaze back to Eileen. "I'll be back soon. I promise."
"I'll be fine…just go…" Eileen's words jumbled together now, a sign that the blood loss was finally catching up to her. He'll be fine. You'll see him again…maybe. "And Dipper…" she stammered, her habit of burying her emotions threatening to drown whatever else she had to say.
He quickly turned around again. "Yeah?"
"Thank you," Eileen spoke, her voice laced with sincerity.
As she watched the young hunter descend towards Oedun Chapel, she could no longer hold back the doubts swimming in her mind. The way the boy carried himself stood out to her. Not just in his desire to leave Yharnam and the Hunter's Dream behind, but in his desires to help the others in the Dream as well. Eileen had seen it in the way Dipper had herded survivor after survivor towards Oedun Chapel with promises of safety and mercy.
Eileen had never been too familiar with the concept of mercy. The Blades of Mercy, ironically named as they were, stood as proof. The only mercy they could offer was death. Yet as her mind kept drifting back to the young hunter, she couldn't help but wonder how he had survived for so long. The boy had been nothing short of terrified when the two hunters first met. Eileen had made a bet that the boy would only last a few hours before he went mad. Yet, moments ago, there Dipper was, mending Eileen's wounds and staying by her side for as long as he could.
Perhaps one light might make a difference after all.
Eileen was grateful that Dipper was too far away from her now. That way, he couldn't see the smile that graced the crow hunter's lips. That way, he wouldn't notice the hunter of hunters steadily climb to her feet and march on toward her next hunt.
All Dipper would notice when he inevitably came back would be a patch of blood…and a crow-shaped badge, left behind for the first hunter Eileen could trust in a what felt like forever.
And that's another story in this mini-series up for the win. I think it's safe to say I have an addiction to writing this stuff.
Anyway, thanks for the support, and have a great day! :)
