The Hunter remembered the Blood Ministration like it was yesterday. Except of course, he was not sure if it had actually occurred yesterday or mere hours ago. Time, like many things in Yharnam, seems to twist and turn at any moment, for no matter how long he seemed to stay in any given part of the city, the night sky scarcely seemed to change. There were times when a battle that seemed to take hours of effort was actually finished in a few moments and others when their conclusions had sped the clock forward in an impossible way.

But regardless, the Hunter knew that he was exhausted. Ever since he had set foot outside Iosefka's desolate clinic, he had grown used to the snarling of beasts, the stench of blood and above all, the cold embrace of death. He had been mauled, burned, slashed, crushed, torn and broken, awakening each time to begin the cycle again. There was a small light in the darkness, an oasis from the dark and desolate town that the Hunter had grown familiar with. A mysterious realm known as the Hunter's Dream.

Or at least that's what he used to think. At first, the Hunter had thought the Dream to be a blessing, a retreat from the endless cycle of death and rebirth. But with every visit, he had grown more and more disconnected from it and began to associate it with a feeling that he felt every moment in the Waking World. Loneliness.

The only constant source of interaction he had during the hunt was with the Bath Messengers and with a single Plain Doll that he had met outside the Workshop, the only one who he could count on in times of personal dilemma. But despite their presence, the Hunter felt more alone then ever. The messengers followed him everywhere he went and worshiped him without question, yet could not speak a single word. And despite her consistent loyalty, something within him knew that the Doll was not a suitable substitute for human interaction. Overtime, he began to loathe the sight of his companions and the plane that they called home, only visiting when it was absolutely necessary.

Gehrman, the Old Hunter that had greeted him upon his arrival, had long ago grown distant. Since his arrival in the Cathedral Ward, he had seemingly vanished from the Workshop and had not spoken to him since. He was unsure of where his supposed mentor had ventured to, but the tired way in which he spoke had tipped the Hunter off that he had been confined to this Dream for a long time. If he had already grown disillusioned with it, he could only imagine the pain the old man had endured in his time there.

Despite the widespread effects of the beastly scourge, the Hunter surprisingly had little trouble finding residents with their wits about them. In his first few hours in Yharnam, he had grown acquainted with several of the city's inhabitants, who despite the town's seeming distrust of foreigners, were more then willing to accept his aid. It brought a faint flicker of hope to see remnants of humanity in a land overwhelmed by beasts, but the Hunter learned the hard way that there were no happy endings in Yharnam.

The few Hunters he had come across had grown drunk with blood and had to be put down as if they were simple beasts. The very first he had come across had slaughtered his own wife in a fit of beastly rage and had been in the last stages of turning when the Hunter had found him. The few who remained had slowly died around him as the night went on or had turned on him as the blood-lust slowly took hold.

The few citizens who evaded the effects of the Scourge had been redirected to the Cathedral Ward to wait out the rest of the night, at the request of a simple Dweller, who the Hunter considered to be the kindest soul within Yharnam, despite his hideous appearance. But eventually, the residents of Oedon Chapel began to die one by one, until only one remained. A beggar the Hunter had found in the Forbidden Woods, who was then slaughtered without a second thought. The words the Beggar had spouted during their battle had been imprinted within the Hunter's head; that he was the real killer. Now every-time he entered the Chapel, the only place in all of Yharnam where he could interact with other humans in any way, he begun to wonder if those words had been true.

But the dread he felt in Yharnam was only amplified by his arrival in the Hunter's Nightmare, a twisted reality inhabited by Hunters who had lost themselves to the Blood's intoxication. This was what he had to look forward to. His consciousness trapped in an eternal hunt against an enemy he could no longer comprehend, never being able to escape the cycle of death and rebirth that had crushed his spirit. As he wade his way further into the depths of the Nightmare, he had discovered far more then he needed to about the history of the Hunt. The fate that befell the supposedly noble Ludwig, the experimentations of the Research Hall and the unfortunate downfall of Laurence, founder of the Healing Church. But they paled in comparison to the source of the Nightmare, testament to the old sins. The Hunter had sworn to end the Nightmare for good, to lift the burden of the shoulders off all who swore to combat the beastly surge.

This was before he had ascended to the Astral Clocktower and discovered the body of the legendary Lady Maria, who was said to be the most talented of Gehrman's pupils. As he approached her seemingly lifeless body, he began to notice something familiar about her, though he couldn't ascertain exactly what it was. When he finally reached her, the first thing he noticed was that the floor that surrounded her chair was coated in a pool of blood, which also stained her collar. But as he observed the grisly sight before him, he noticed something else and he immediately realized what this familiarity he felt stemmed from.

"It can't be", he murmured to himself, reaching out his hand in order to confirm his suspicions.

Suddenly, he felt something grab his hand and violently pull him forward, so that he was face to face with the figure in front of him. His curiosity had gotten the better of him.

"A corpse should be left well alone" The Old Hunter said in a voice the Hunter knew all to well. Releasing her hold on him, she watched as her visitor stumble backwards with a shocked expression on his face, one which she was slightly puzzled by. Yet the most shocking thing wasn't her voice, her visage nor the fact she had sprung from death. It was her eyes.

They were...empty.

"Oh, I know how the secrets beckon so sweetly. Only an honest death will cure you now. Liberate you from your wild curiosity".

The Hunter had barely registered the revelation that he had just experienced before Maria rushed towards him with a speed unlike anything he had faced before. Barely dodging before the attack reached him, the Hunter prepared for combat. It was not long before he was cut down yet again and his body faded away into the Dream to start anew. It was another cycle that he would soon grow used to.

…..

Desperation. That is what the Hunter felt as he maneuvered around Maria's seemingly endless array of swings, all of which left a trail of blood and flames. He had seen everything that the Guardian of the Astral Clocktower was capable of and even then, he struggled to evade her in a consistent manner. But all that didn't matter. He could see that she was weakening. All he had to do was hold out a little while longer and he could finally progress past this forsaken Clocktower.

Maria had dashed backwards and taken up a stance the Hunter knew signified that she was about to fire a powerful stream of blood, but he was unsure of which one it was going to be. He received his answer when a stream of blood shot straight towards him, which he expertly sidestepped before it could hit him. This was it. All he had to do now was to…

He was cut off as she followed up with a diagonal slash that hit him just as he was recovering, leaving a large gash across his chest and knocking his axe from his hand, with the follow-up stream of fire knocking him backwards. As he struggled to get up, he could see Maria slowly approaching him, ready to slay him yet again. Realizing he still had his pistol holstered, the Hunter pulled it out and aimed it at his opponent, who froze in place as she saw him pull the trigger.

*click*

Empty. It was empty. The Hunter had used up all of his bullets during the battle and in desperation had forgotten to keep track of his ammunition. He should've been furious with himself for being so careless, but instead a different feeling rushed over him. Frustration.

He sighed as he rested his weight on the arm holding the pistol, not even paying attention to Maria as a feeling of hopelessness crashed down upon him yet again. Despite still having several Blood Vials on his person, he could not bring himself to continue the battle. Nothing he did seemed to matter. He had failed so many times, seemingly learned all there is to know about his opponent's weaknesses and yet, just as victory was within his grasp, she found a way to turn the tables on him yet again. After everything he'd done, everything he'd lost, everything he'd worked for, it was all ruined because of his own bloody pistol. What was the point?

During all of this, he noticed that Maria was still frozen in place, staring at him as he lay on the floor, not even trying to fight back. Though he should have been grateful that she had not struck him down, the only thing he felt was anger. Why now does she hesitate, when he's completely at her mercy?

"Well? What are you waiting for? Finish it!"

He was not certain, but he could've sworn he saw her recoil slightly as he finished his statement, before she began to approach him, still holding her two blood-soaked blades. Stopping just in front of him, she slowly raised her weapon. He did not attempt to move out of the way, he didn't even raise his head in acknowledgement. He just waited for that familiar feeling to wash over him as he was reborn once again.

He could just barely make out the sound of her blade cutting through the air...

The Hunter opened his eyes, realizing that the swing did not connect. He looked up at Maria, realizing that her weapon was no longer covered in blood. He watched apprehensively as she placed her Rakuyo on the ground and knelt down beside him, gently lifting him up as she did so. She reached into his pouch, pulling out one of his unused Blood Vials and injecting it into his leg.

"No. Not like this." She said as she released him and turned towards her chair, which had miraculously survived their battle.

The Hunter watched her walk away in shock, not saying a word as the Healing Blood slowly repaired the gash on his chest and the damage done to his arm. Having seen the effects of excessive usage of the blood first-hand, he had started to limit his usage of it during battle, prioritizing fast reactions and even quicker attacks. Yet he could not deny the relief he felt as the blistering pain in his body began to subside, allowing him to slowly get back on his feet. Though the physical pain had dispersed, a different kind still remained.

"Why did you do that?" He asked the Guardian of the Astral Clocktower, who was now reclining in the chair he had found her in, her head lowered slightly.

"You were not defending yourself. It is not becoming of a Hunter to take advantage of a defenseless opponent." She answered, not even looking him in the eye as she spoke. He knew that Maria had been noted for her compassion during her time, but something told him she was not telling him the full truth.

"It is also not becoming of someone of your stature to lie. I can list countless times when I was incapable of defending myself and when you executed me without hesitation". This got her attention, causing her to raise her head, though she still averted her gaze.

"Perhaps so, but we both know that the circumstances of this encounter are different. You did not even attempt to fight back." She replied in a rather patronizing tone.

"And why does that matter to you? Is it not your purpose to prevent me from discovering the secrets of the Nightmare? Why now do you decide to show mercy?!" The Hunter replied in a much more aggressive manner then he intended, his frustration at Maria's cryptic answers becoming too much to bear.

"I did not think that you would be so eager to die again." Maria said with a slight smirk on her face.

The Hunter could not believe it. She was mocking him. She had killed him too many times to count and know there she was. Sitting back in a chair and mocking him, as if she were a mother dealing with an unruly child. He struggled to formulate a reply, all the while holding back the anger that began to swell within him.

"Is it that you have grown disillusioned with this charade? Do you understand now that you can't erase what you have done? Is this some half-hearted effort to try to wash the blood from your hands?" As he spoke, he saw as Maria's posture grew more rigid, tightly grasping the arms of her chair and furrowing her brows, all while avoiding his gaze.

"You would do well to mind your tongue. I did not spare you out of a selfish desire to right my own wrongs. I was…" Unable to finish her sentence, she lowered her head so her cap obscured the troubled expression on her face. At this point, the anger in the Hunter's chest had reached a breaking point and he boldly approached Maria, stopping just in front of her.

"Then why? Why did you do it?" His questioning seemed to have little effect, as Maria continued to sit in silence, refusing to even acknowledge his presence. "ANSWER ME!" He blurted out; his patience having long worn thin.

"Because your heart is no longer in this battle." She answered forcibly, finally meeting his gaze. "I can see it in your eyes. The anger, the frustration, the confusion. You fight, but you no longer understand why. You do not remember your reason for accepting this Hunt in the first place, nor do you see any reason to continue it. The night has crushed your spirit and addled your mind beyond repair, yet you see no light at the end of the tunnel. But above all, you feel like nothing you do seems to matter. After everything you have lost and everything you have overcome, you just don't seem to get any closer to whatever it is you seek. And now, only one feeling remains. Hopelessness."

As the Hunter processed Maria's address, he once again found himself slowly edging away from her; not out of fear, but of surprise. How was it possible that she was able to ascertain the cause of his surrender so easily? He had understandably not spoken a word to her since she had awakened, yet she seemed to understand him more then anyone he had met in his Hunt. Even those he had called his friends.

"How did… how in the world did you…" He struggled to form his words, the impact from her statements having not yet subsided.

"Because I was once in the same position." She replied, a sorrowful expression appearing on her face.

Realization finally dawned upon him. "You were provoking me on purpose. Seeing just how far I was willing to go". She nodded silently, confirming his suspicion. But one question remained.

"Why?"

"To cool your anger. Make you more willing to listen." She answered, confusing the Hunter even further.

"Why on Earth would I listen to you? For all I know this is all just another scheme to lure me away from whatever it is you are guarding. I hope you have not forgotten, Maria. We are NOT friends." This statement seemed to ignite something in the Old Huntress, as she swiftly rose to her feet with a look of unbridled anger on her face.

"Do you think I haven't lost anything from these battles? I broke the one principle I had left just to keep you from uncovering the Church's secret and yet, you just kept on coming back. After what you made me do, I should've been exhilarated that you had finally given up, that I no longer had to rely on Cainhurst's abominable blood arts just to keep you at bay! If I really wanted to, I would have butchered you and sent you back to the Waking World in a state that no beast in Yharnam would have the stomach to approach you. But I didn't. Because I know that if I did, it would have set you down a much darker path. One that would no doubt confide you to this Godforsaken Nightmare, slobbering like a mad dog. You are right about one thing; we are not friends. But understand this, I'm not trying to deceive you."

She paused then, her composure softening considerably and an understanding smile appearing on her face.

"I'm trying to help you."

The Hunter stood in silence, still trying to comprehend what he had just heard. During his Hunt, he had seen many creatures that would have even the most hardened veterans shaking in their boots, yet somehow even they paled in comparison to the pure terror he had felt as Maria spoke. Perhaps it was the unexpected outburst from one who is usually composed or the pure anger she had exhibited while scolding him, but whatever it was, he was not ready to press her any further.

Though suspicion still lingered in the back of his mind, the raw emotion Maria had demonstrated during her address had at least proven to him that she was not being insincere. She wanted to help him, even after all the pain she had endured trying to keep him from discovering the secrets of the Nightmare. In what way, he did not know, but perhaps she was the only one who could.

"Alright, Maria. What is this about?" He asked after a lengthy silence.

"I wish only to speak to you. To understand what has led you to this point. If I learned anything in my years in the Waking World, it's that a Hunter's life is one marred in loneliness." Maria replied, raising out her hand in a gesture of peace. "I do not expect you to accept, but know that I understand your pain, more then you can imagine. You may leave this place and forget this exchange ever took place. The choice is yours alone."

The Hunter looked at her outstretched hand, weighing his options. He was still unsure of whether he should trust her, but if he refused her offer, who else could he turn to? Everyone he had grown close to was either dead or missing, with the only other options being an emotionally detached Hunter and a soulless replication of the woman standing before him. If he left, he was certain his mental state would deteriorate even further and he would find himself trapped in this Nightmare forever more. He truly had nowhere else to go.

After several moments of hesitation, he accepted Maria's offered handshake, firmly clasping her arm as he did so. Nodding his consent, Maria led him to the small set of stairs beneath the grand clock of the Cathedral, motioning for him to sit down. After he had taken his seat, he watched as his host returned to her chair, quickly turning it around so she could face him before sitting down herself. His guess was that she understood that he did not trust her enough to let her so close to him just yet and chose to respect this, for now.

"Now then, Good Hunter. Tell me what troubles you."

….

Author's Note: This story is something I wrote with very little prior-planning and as such, it snowballed into something much bigger. Much of it has already been completed, sans a few minor edits and new chapters should be added at regular intervals. It may not be the most original story in the world, but when has that ever stopped anyone?

Bloodborne is quite possibly my favorite game of all time and after noticing the scarcity of stories about it, I wanted to expand the archives even if by a little. This fandom may not have the numbers it once did, but I hope those who remain may find some enjoyment from it.