Disclaimer: All characters and game elements belong to NetEase. I own nothing but a will to write.
Helena shrieks at the visage that suddenly materializes in front of her, stumbling backwards that she almost trips. A tall figure stands three strides away, right in front of the keypad that would open the gate to freedom. A cold chill wraps around her as the hunter's light shines in its malevolent hue and the frightful music threatens to deafen her. The sudden jump of her heart rate leaves her gasping for deeper breaths, flaring up her fear even further. All these point to one glaring conclusion: it is the hunter.
The young woman urges herself to run, but an incapacitating conflict pegs her down. Fear yells at her to go, but curiosity coaxes her to stay.
Due to her sheltered life, there are only a few things that she has ever experienced, fear being one of them. When she lost her eyesight, when the darkness held her in its mysterious embrace, Helena never thought she'd ever experience something more dreadful than not knowing what's right before her eyes. But thanks to her father who gave her a precious cane to serve as her eyes and a tutor who taught her about the world and the languages it spoke, Helena didn't have to fear the darkness anymore.
Now, she learns that what's scarier than the darkness is the danger lurking there, the danger now right in front of her.
Yet her resistant inquisitiveness notices the danger's peculiarity and entices her to study it, leaving her gaping at the apparition. The monster seems like a human, a person of the likes she's never met before. It seems like a man—a very tall man—with a small face, wavy hair, and slender frame dressed up in an elegant suit. In his left hand, he holds a long-curved object—it doesn't seem like a cane but it looks lethal enough to be a weapon. There is also an air of elegance and sophistication in his stance, the way she'd imagine aristocrats in novels would carry themselves. The only strange inhuman things she notices about him are the deep cracks all over his body resembling that of broken glass, and the way his coat seems to billow against nonexistent wind. Over the loud pounding in her chest, she also hears the sounds of deep breaths being inhaled and exhaled which are definitely not hers.
So, the speechless survivor stares in scrutiny at the serene specter, standing still in steady silence.
The only thing that brings Helena back to reality is the distant crying of a crow, a creature of ill omen in literature reminding her of where she is and what the figure in front of her is. Exhaling the breath she had been holding, her thoughts return to her prior indecision, especially now that reason has joined in with fear's plea to flee. But something else sides with her curiosity—a desire to reach closer—pointing out how she is still on her feet, still unhurt by the immobile menace. Despite her better judgement, she listens to the latter and decides to stay under the hunter's gaze.
Mustering up her courage, Helena hazards to ask, "Are-Are you t-the Hunter?" It might sound stupid, but she has to know if it's possible for a monster to be so human-like.
After being completely still since his arrival, the specter finally moves, tilting his head in the smallest degree before opening his mouth. "Can't you tell? Doesn't your heart beat faster? Doesn't my appearance tip you off?"
The reply is more shocking than a calibration mistake, and she shudders with an involuntary step backward. She didn't really know what to expect, but it was most certainly not a low baritone drone answering back with another question.
"I-I'm blind, I can't really see how you look," the lady confesses once she recovers from her surprise. "But you seem like a normal person, only taller."
The male seems to contemplate on her words, keeping his silence and gaze on her. For obvious reasons, she can't read a person's facial expressions but from the loosening of his posture and the lowering of his weapon, Helena can see his strange abstinence to attack. Still, she clutches the cane firmly in her hands, both for support and courage. She dreads the thought that she would have to use it to defend herself if needed be. But as if to ease her worries—or to distract her from the threat—the apparition produces a card in his right hand, twirling it with his long thin fingers. Helena stands so mesmerized by the minute-long spectacle that by the time the card disappears, her worries have been considerably replaced by wonder.
Whatever this hunter is, he's far different from a monster.
Now feeling braver with this newfound knowledge, she ventures to ask, "Aren't you going to eliminate me, too?"
"No, I'm not." He states it so matter-of-fact that it sounds like something obvious and expected from a fearsome creature. "I see no point in eliminating you when I've already won."
Her eyes widen at the response and "Oh…" is the most articulate thing she can reply. His act of mercy is not exactly revolutionary for she'd heard about hunters who would spare the final survivor after they've beaten them to the ground. But this one isn't even lifting a finger to harm her when he could've done so moments ago. Why spare her when he didn't do that to the others? What did she do to deserve this? She wants to ask him why but he begins speaking again.
"I haven't answered your first question now, have I?" he queries in that amused tone. With a gracefulness she's never witnessed before, he withdraws his weapon behind his back. "I am the Hunter," he announces with a flourish, bending his body forward in a bow. "Photographer Joseph Desaulniers."
Joseph… Such a nice name. So, he was the one taking pictures in the match. By the way he's dressed, she wonders if he's a prince or a noble, too.
"And you are, miss?" the gentleman asks as he raises his head to lock gazes with her once more.
"Helena Adams… sir," she flounders with a meek nod of her head, completely taken aback by his sudden formality. "The… Mind's Eye…" She still doesn't understand why they chose the long moniker instead of just "Blind girl" or "Writer" though the latter is debatable because Helena doesn't regard herself as good enough to be called as such.
"Helena…" his smooth voice returns as does his earlier stance. Helena thinks about how impressive he must truly look even with his physical peculiarity. It makes her more curious about him.
"Since you are the first one to not run immediately upon meeting me, I'll let you escape this one time," he declares, his voice light and friendly. "But, remember, hunters will target you, so you better run if you don't want to get caught."
"Y-Yes, sir! I will!" she replies in full attention, realizing that he's answering her unspoken query and offering her advice at the same time. No one told her that hunters can do that, funnily enough.
"Now, go open the Gate." He steps aside to let her approach the keypad, putting some considerable distance between the two of them.
"Y-Yes!" she exclaims both in bewilderment and enthusiasm as she sprints towards the device.
The redhead inputs the codes hastily, shaking uncontrollably in barely suppressed trepidation even as the overwhelming music has grown slightly fainter. She can still hear his haggard breathing and feel the cold light on her back, meaning the hunter is watching her intently and closely, and she steals a few occasional glances in his direction. Much to her added relief, he doesn't do anything else but his stare puts her in perpetual unease.
Once the metal doors part, she runs out the gate, tapping her cane with every step. The sustaining light only means that the other person is still following her every movement but he doesn't proceed through the Gate after her.
She turns around to face him, still disbelieving of this show of mercy. Is he really going to just let her go?
Helena stomps her cane on the ground, wanting to confirm for herself that it's really a pleasant-looking hunter who has deemed her worthy enough to spare and not just an illusory phantom. Echo allows her to see everyone in the map in slightly better detail, showing her their locations and even their concrete countenance for a measly minute. She looks up to the Photographer, gasping a little as she views his graceful form now made clear. Despite the bright hue covering him from the feet upwards and the darker cracks decorating his frame, the blind woman has never seen anything or anyone so extraordinary—a sight that rouses within her feelings of wonder and awe. Even if the word hardly made sense to her, she can only say 'beautiful' to describe him.
Joseph tilts his head, his eyebrow raised and his lips curved up, an expression between intrigue and amusement gracing his face. "Thank you for the compliment. You look charming yourself, Helena."
Her face glows red at the realization that not only did she say the word out loud but he also complimented her back. "T-Thank you," she fumbles with her reply, "And thank you for sparing me, Sir Joseph."
She hears a small chuckle escape him and all of a sudden Helena feels lighthearted, her previous anxieties and fear disappearing completely. Who would've thought that something like this could happen? Helena entered the match battling against her worries and doubts about her own capability to survive in this game, but now in the end, she's discovered something she never thought she'd find. Perhaps everyone was wrong to call them heartless monsters. Perhaps the hunters are just as human as the survivors.
Perhaps this game isn't as hopeless as she thought it was.
"I hope we meet again, Sir Joseph," Helena beams, smiling for the first time since she entered the manor.
She sees the hunter's sanguine face, a vivid visage in her world of darkness. "See you later, Helena," he bids her farewell as they part ways.
The match ends, but the game has just started.