I: The Abomination

A young woman sat at her desk, her eyes cast over the lake, past the broken bridge. A soft mist blanketed the water like a fluffy comforter. The wind was soft and subtle close to shore, however it could be discerned the winds were more violent out by the old abandoned castle. The towering ruins danced as if it pretended to be filled with life once more.

The girl could not tear her eyes from the scene. She was curious about the place, she had been since she was a child. She wondered what life was like there; her mother had spoken of it a lot. Yet the stories sounded as if they were fairy tales. Knights and nobles, balls and grand dinners. That was so far away from the life her and her mother lived now; now they lived in near poverty near a charnel house. They dressed ornately, thanks to her mother's sewing skills, and her mother had kept her knight's garb and weapons. However, the young lady and her mother hardly left the house. They would sneak out in evenings, her mother dressed in long cloaks and hood to hide herself.

The sound of her father hacking tore her away from her thoughts. The frail young lady turned to look at her bedroom door. She took a deep breath before she stood and straightened her skirt. She padded out of her room, making sure to close the door gently with both hands on the way out. She paused, hands still on the cool, dark wood of the door as she stared down towards her parent's room. Her stomach twisted with anxiety. She failed to realise she was holding her breath until the door across the hall opened up. Her mother slipped out of the room, she whispered something into the room and kept her back to the hall. Her wavy white hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and tucked into the back of her cloak. Every inch of her body, bar her face, had been covered to hide her snow white skin.

The door clicked close and as the full Vileblooded woman turned she pulled her hood over her hair. She paused as her pale blue eyes met her daughter's. "Mayme, is something the matter?"

"Is Papa okay?" Mayme asked, "It isn't…"

"He's getting better. I think it's just a cold." The Vileblood offered a gentle smile, though worry laid behind her eyes. "We're just running out of food, and I don't know if we can wait until he gets better before shopping."

"But…" Mayme trailed off, her eyes fell to the ground. "What if someone sees you? Your bloodline is obvious to anyone who… who..."

"I'll be fine. I'll just hang my head and I won't let anyone see me. And I'll bring the evelyn, just in case."

Mayme frowned, unconvinced. "If a church member sees you… Your skin, your hair, anything."

Her mother sighed. "I know. The truth is, we only have enough incense for one or two more hunts. If I fall ill too and a hunt happens we'll be in quite a bit of trouble. It isn't just the food issue. I know we've gone days without eating before… but beasts? I can't allow us to be attacked."

"Oh. But that's by the..." Mayme tugged at her shawl so it pulled at the back of her shoulders. She drew a deep breath. "Mama, I'm an adult. I look far less vileblooded than you. I have a little colour in my skin and hair. I think it would be safer for me to go."

Her mother chewed her lip for a moment. Her face twisted in distress. "Mayme…"

"I'll be fine." The young woman's tone was unconvincing. Her duo coloured eyes met her mother's as a sheepish smile spread across her soft pink lips.

Her mother relented with a sigh. "Okay, it would be safer. You could really pass as a young, pure blooded Yharnamite better than I at least. Just take the evelyn with you, keep it hidden."

"Yes Mama."

"Do you need my bullets?"

"No, I can use my own. If something goes wrong you might need yours."

The Vileblood nodded. She reached around to her back and pulled the ornate pistol from under her cloak. The firearm was polished and well kept, it looked as if it had just come out of Cainhurst that very day. "The pouch of coin and a shopping list is on the table by the door. Be safe." She stared at the gun longingly, worry painted on her face.

Mayme padded over quickly and gently took the evelyn from her mother's hand. "She'll protect me, don't worry Mama. I love you." she ran her thumb over the etchings in the firearm before reaching around her back to hide it under her shawl, in her corset.

"I love you too, darling." Her mother put her hands on the frail young woman's shoulders and planted a kiss on her blonde bangs that curtained over her forehead. "Be quick, okay?"

Mayme nodded slightly before she stepped away. She gathered a small purse from her room and debated putting the firearm in it. She decided she felt safer with it pressed to the small of her back, obscured by both her corset and long shawl. She gathered what she needed and gently arranged it in her purse as she left her house.

The track through Hemwick Charnel Lane was long and uneventful. The folks acted neighborly enough with simple greetings and one woman asking what Mayme was doing out without her father. The poor population of that portion of Yharnam seemed to either not know or care much about politics-nor would they be able to tell a vileblood's bone and face structure from their own. This small fact helped ease Mayme's skittish heart. Still, her worry returned to her as she hurried towards Cathedral ward.

She kept her head down, her duo coloured eyes fixated on the cobblestone path that led away from her sleepy lane. Her heart pounded in her ears, her delicate hands tightly gripped the strap of her purse. Chatter surrounded her as she briskly made her way down the steps. She simply wanted to get to the courtyard and out as soon as possible.

A hand firmly grabbed onto her shoulder and made her muscles tense. A small 'eep' escaped her lips as she spun around to see who had touched her.

A woman soon there. She slowly pulled her gloved hand back and placed it on her hip, in her other hand seemed to be a pick. Doubtlessly a church weapon of some kind; her black dress and white shawl said as much. She was a church hunter.

The woman tilted her head as she examined Mayme, her dark blond hair dusted over her shoulders as she did so. Her peddle pink lips curved into a comforting smile. "You seem anxious. Is something the matter?"

Mayme looked back down at her feet and shook her head. "No," she spoke, barely above a whisper.

The church hunter hummed to herself, quite unconvinced.

"I-I am from Hemwick. I simply came to pick up some incense. I… it's overwhelming how many people are here," Mayme tried to clarify.

"I see. Well, Hemwick is quite a struggling little lane, isn't it? The church is giving out such things for free, if you don't have the coin."

"It's fine-"

The sound of metal clicked and clanged against itself cut off Mayme's words. She glanced up to see the pick had been extended. It took the shape of something akin to a scythe. An odd trick weapon, to be sure. The glint in the church hunters eyes was gone, and her smile replaced with one that did not quite reach her icy eyes.

"Follow me," the hunter said sternly, though politeness could still be detected in her tone.

Mayme took a deep breath and followed the hunter. Her fingers fidgeted with the bag strap. She did not know if it was her anxiety that ate at her nerves, or if the hunter had discovered her secret. She tailed behind the blonde haired woman, the click of her heels seemingly echoed as they made their way up the stairs. Yharnamites kept their voices hushed as the two passed.

The woman said nothing, even when they entered the grand cathedral. Her cold, emotionless gaze stayed steadfast in front of her. She paid no mind to the locals and her fellow church members as she carried forward. She only listened for the soft steps of the vileblooded woman behind her.

Plenty prayed to a skull on an altar, however most stood in line for a table set up. Church members handed out blood with a smile, some led the sickly away. However, it was only blood. Nothing else.

Mayme noticed the lack of supplies and stopped dead in her tracks. The air caught in her lungs. The church hunter in front of her also stopped, she turned to look at the young lady over her shoulder.

"I told you to follow." The church hunter's voice was filled with venom.

Mayme didn't move.

The church hunter turned and snatched the other woman's wrist. With a quick tug the hunter tugged the girl close. She whispered softly, "Look. I'm willing to let you keep your dignity, if you resist I will not hesitate to cut you down where you stand. It matters not to me how many watch you die, creature."

Mayme only managed to let out a squeak before a loud crash echoed throughout the church. The hunter let go of Mayme and spun to see what the commotion was. The table that was once cluttered with glass bottles of blood was empty. Broken glass and blood pooled at the legs. A girl in ill fitted, tattered black robes decorated with ropes climbed upon the table, much to the clergy set up at it's dismay. The woman turned to face the horrified onlookers. She pulled off her hood, her dark eyes on the crowd, her curly almond color locks messily stuck to her pale, freckled face. She threw her arms up which only made it clear how ill fitted the clothes were. They loosely billowed out around a sash around her tiny waist, and the sleeves sagged heavily where they were tucked into a pair of gloves.

"People of Yharnam!" The brunette's young voice was amplified by the building structure. "The blood is venom! Poisons you! The church is killing us all!"

"Abigale! Get down from there!" The blond church hunter called, she began to charge over to the mad woman.

Abigale's black eyes settled on the hunter. "Make me, Quill! You are among the most devious of this corrupt organization, you know damn well the blood is causing the plague!"

"You have lost it! Enough!"

Abigale pulled the threaded cane from her belt and with a flick of her wrist revealed it's alternate form. A threaded whip. It cracked and pulled the population out of their surprised stooper. Now that the mad woman had a weapon there was cause to panic. The Yharnamites screamed and scurried to the exit, and Mayme followed suit.

The vile blooded girl hurried as far away as she could, she hopped from group to group and followed with no care where that led her. She never looked back, just let her legs carry her through the cobblestone streets. Her hands tightly grasped the bag's handle to stop her body from quaking.

Eventually she slipped into an alleyway and slumped against a wall. She slid down, out of breath, and unable to hold back her fearful shivers. Tears rolled down her freckled young face, but she was too emotionally drained to do anything about them. Her hands fell limply to the dusty stones she sat upon. They were cold and smooth, and ever so slightly soothed her. Her breath was laboured, but she was able to hold back sobs and wails. Her eyes moved to the entrance of the alley she had retreated into. She waited, she expected the cold eyed blonde to round the corner, but she never did. No one came for her.

Hours past before Mayme could will herself to her feet once more. She felt as if only an hour or two had gone by, however she was quite wrong. The sun was half way set and the sky was painted in brilliant oranges, pinks, and reds. The streets were quiet, nearly empty bars, a few souls scurrying home.

She paid very little mind to the signs, she was a shambling corpse attempting to drag itself back to the cathedral so she could go home. Only the warm colours of the sun set made her look alive. It gave colour to her pale skin, and brought out the blonde of her hair and she back tracked to the great bridge that connected central Yharnam to the cathedral ward.

Unhindered she eventually arrived, however stopped part way down the bridge. She stared across it, befuddled. The gate was closed. Slowly realization began to swallow her until a panic began to drown her. It was evening. It was soon to be night. Thoughts of the hunt anchored her in a deep frantic panic, she began to make a b-line sprint to the gate and froze as a harrowing screech from beyond it sliced through the air. She sucked in a gasp, the situation made her feel as if she couldn't breath. Her lungs burned as her whole body refused to accept the fact she was left out on a hunt night. She swallowed the bile forming in her throat and forced her wobbly legs to carry her onwards. Her heart raced and all she could hear was the thump of it in her ears.

The building that gated off the rich from the poor shook as a large furry hand appeared from over top of it. Mayme froze, but halt did not make the creature hesitate. It cleared the wall as if it were nothing more than a short decorative fence. The bridge book as it's massive feet landed.

He creature screeched once more, it reverberated through the structure. The stench of its breath appeared to be visible from beads of saliva that sprayed from its canine-like maw. Drool caked the slower half of it's jaw, and had clearly dripped onto his breast. The fur, though matted all over, stuck together in wet chunks on it's chest. It was bipedal, and its hands looked as if they could have once been human. Now, however, the talon-like nails appeared to be far stronger than any person's. They were darkened with dirt and gore caked under them. Fur still grew in patches as it slowly claimed every once human part of the beast.

Mayme stood still, her eyes cast upward at it's feral eyes. It took a lumbering step towards her, but she could do little more than stare like a deer in headlights. She wanted to scream, but her voice caught in her throat. She wanted to run but her legs were locked. The thought of the gun pressed against her back slipped her mind as thoughts of death plagued her.

A girlish scream echoed through the air, the very sound of it tore Mayme out of her freeze. She was not sure if it had emanated from her or not, but it didn't matter. She reached around back and pulled her evelyn out from it's snug spot on her back. The beast was a big enough target that all she had to do was point and shoot. There was little regard to where, but properly aiming didn't seem to be too important. The bullet tore through the beast. It stangered back, recoiled from the hit. It bowed and had to steady itself with an arm. Dark red blood splattered over the light stone of the bridge, but most of it stayed caught in the beast's fur. The wet blood oozed and gently glistened in the soft evening light.

The beast screeched a horrid, pained, and enraged scream. It's head turned to gawk at it's new injury. Mayme took no time to watch any more of it's reaction. She turned on her heels and bolted the direction she had come.

She did not look back, all she wanted was to return to the safety of her alley. She managed just fine and slumped back against the same wall she had before. She shimmied over to peer down the street. Nothing followed her, but some men had begun patrol the streets with torches and farming tools. She slunk deeper into the alley again and kneeled down behind a few barrels of God knows what. She once more simply sat there unnoticed. Surely a beast could sniff her out if one dared to wonder by, but as far as she was concerned this was the safest place for her.

She placed her gun back into hiding and sat with her knees pulled to her chest. The sound of axes against the cobblestone road and men murmuring passed her several times over before she was brave enough to peek out.

The men of Yharnam looked very odd. Their faces dropped on one side, and the pupils on their eyes collapsed. Patches of hair grew sporadically over their faces and bodies. They limped and lumbered, and clearly something was amiss about them. The words they muttered were proper words, but they slurred. Their words seemed simple. Surely this was abnormal. This was not like how the people shopping appeared.

Mayme covered her mouth with her hands and closed her eyes tight. She didn't want to cry out or wail. But she felt so helpless. She fought her tears back while, unbeknownst to her, an eye peered out of a partially drawn curtain at her. It stared for a long moment before the fabric was pulled close.