The Ending of a Dream.
Hello to those who decided to read this fanfic. I just wanted to say that this is my first fanfic so criticizism and feedback would be much appreciated. I don't own either intellectual properties and they belong to their respective studios.
Bold is for emphasis of an action or word
Italics for thoughts
The battle with the wet nurse of poor mergo, stillborn child of the formless one Oedon was finally reaching its end. She stood towering above the average human's height which could only be determined by the cloaked dress the wet nurse wore, adorned with jewels and silver. It was a finely crafted dress, the embroidery showing the high status of the responsibility she was given by the formless one. It even was fitted specifically for her 'special' needs such as the raven black wings and the six skeletal arms that each wielded a long, curved sickle sword.
Despite her size and lack of mobility she made up for it in range and lightning quick slices that caught the good hunter off guard the first time she'd battled with the monstrosity, leading to her death. If it weren't for the dream to sustain her, she'd be nothing but another corpse that littered the arena. With the dream's power to snatch her from the claws of death she gained greater skill and knowledge of her opponents. The nurse favors attacking from the right, her lightning quick strikes were predictable once she learned that the nurse's arms had a certain angle that they could turn.
The battle became almost a dance of weapons, fitting considering the music box that resounded throughout the arena they currently resided in. The good hunter rushed this horrific dance as much as possible, instead of many blows she'd finish the fight in as many decisive ones as possible sliding under a swipe to thrust the hammer forward and into the formless nurse, igniting the furnace inside that burned with a ghostly blue flame. At the same time she striked before quick stepping under another blade and getting very close to the nurse where she used the momentum of her dash to rake the stones before striking up and into the nurses body, flinging flaming dust and loose rubble at the great one.
The nurse drew back and unleashed a storm of slices. Dancing through the flurry of swipes, gracefully moving through the many swipes and slices that the six nimble arms of the nurse was able to throw in quick succession. Using the opportunity that was provided the good hunter pulled the hammer back on the weapon using her shoulder while she ran at the nurse to ignite the ghastly furnace of the boom hammer. With the weapon ignited she slammed the hammer into the side of the nightmare's leg, followed by an explosion of ghastly blue flames that staggered the formless one back, if only for a moment, one that the good hunter must use. She quickly swept to the left, getting behind the nurse, she began prepping her final attack. The hunter pulled an empty syringe out of her bag and jabbed it into her leg, drawing out blood to be used as a medium to expand her many quicksilver bullets. She didn't bother to use any of the vials of blood to replace what she had lost because that would have wasted precious seconds that she instead used to coat bone marrow ash along the obscene weapon in her left arm to further increase it's firepower.
In her left arm was a hunk of circular metal decorated with many intricate engravings. The cannon of the powderkegs, deemed too inefficient with quicksilver bullets to be used against your average beast, against the many massive foes she has fought over the course of her unending night it became a staple of her arsenal. With all the prep work done she raised the weapon up, and that managed to save her from being cleaved in half because the nurse had attacked while turning to the good hunter, her blade slamming into the side of the cannon but it did not slice through. Before she could follow up with another slice the hunter fired the powered up cannon. The recoil forced her arm back and behind her, and she used that momentum to spin her faster than she could see to accommodate such a force. She used that momentum to spin and slam the invisible face of the nurse followed by the crunching and snapping of bone. Normally this would have been impossible for any human, but because of the blood she has imbibed her muscle density is five times that of a normal man, this allowed her to stand her ground even allowing her to fire the cannon one handed. The nurse was reduced to nothing but a cloak floating strangely a few feet off the ground, and with his source of prolonged life dead the cries of mergo resounded through the arena once more before they simply stopped, putting an end to the endless night.
She stood there for a moment, the only sounds gracing her ears were the sounds of her heart beating quickly, the sound of her own panting, and the ringing she had from firing her weapon. Walking to the center of the arena there was a small unlit lamp. She leaned over the final bell adorned lamp and with a snap of her fingers she kneeled and let the solemn mist take her consciousness back to the dream.
She awoke and spoke the first words she had spoken in what felt like months within this endless night. "What in the bloody hell..?" The hunter's dream, her only sanctuary on this hunt that has lasted so long.. burning. She walked up the curved stairs and into the workshop that was surprisingly still intact, even if she could feel the heat coming from the flames. The many weapons, firearms and tools that she found along her endless hunt decorated the workbench, small fireplace, the book shelves along the walls, and the wooden altar with a simple blood stained cloth on top of it. She opened the storage coffin and grabbed more quicksilver bullets, vials, ash, oil urns, and the many assortment of molotovs and delayed molotovs. When she was about to turn around she was met with a woman's soft, soothing voice. "Good hunter. You have come… Dawn will soon break… This night, and this dream, will end. Gehrman awaits you at the foot of the great tree." The good hunter simply nodded, and turned to see the finely dressed, polite, pale image the doll had. It was sad that she'd never see her again after this, for the good hunter knew she was more than a simple doll. No doll shed tears of joy, no doll spoke or moved, no doll said she loved the humans that made her.
The doll was the one who had brought her back to sanity by using her many echoes and channeling them into her strength, skill, endurance, vitality and even the arcane. It made her a very powerful force, one on par with the great ones themselves in terms of physical strength. The great ones were powerful beings that had long transcended and they're physical strength wasn't the only oddity for she wasn't sure if she had truly slain any great one other than mergo, and that damnable amygdala that was a very common great one. For they were greater than humans and beasts and did not need physical forms to exist they could live within nightmares and higher planes as well, that begged the question.. could they live within dreams as well?
From the whispers of her prestigious mentor in his nightmare laden sleep, to the knowledge of byrgenwerth, the church, and the fishing hamlet, to mergo and the school of mensis, to the choir and the grieving Ebrietas, the only great one left behind, and the only to be spared on her hunt, the only other being she could say wasn't a threat, or guarded anything. She learned everything and the entire maddening story of Yharnam, she knew it all. Maria had tried to keep it from her, but the hunter could tell Maria wanted to be free and to end the nightmare, even if she could not stomach the atrocities that byrgenwerth had done. She agreed, but she had to know the truth, the why of it all, even if it had her seething with anger and teetering on the brink of madness once more. The more she learned the angier and more bitter she became towards byrgenwerth and the church, the dreadful fools.
Even her mentor had a hand in it, although even she had pity on him. All the man wanted was to protect his fellow people, even if he was misguided by those who manipulated him. She thought about these things while repairing her weapons, cleaning them and her clothes of blood thanks to some little helpers. She took her trusty boom hammer and cannon in hand, a pistol at her side. It may have looked like she was preparing for another fight and while yes she was in a literal sense, it was much more cathartic and calming to her to keep her things in good repair. It was a habit she fell back on to try and keep herself sane. If one were to ask her who she was going to fight, armed to the teeth like this she would have given a gentle laugh and said that she was simply doing some maintenance.
With herself believing to be presentable she held her weapons and walked out to the field of beautiful white flowers. The place was serene and even though she had been through so much, the flowers were beautiful and calming. She saw her mentor at the base of the great tree, the entire dream was littered with tombstones but here felt like the most beautiful graveyard she has ever been in. They lined the outer ring of the dream that sat on a spire above the very clouds.. and they were beautiful. She couldn't help but stare in awe at everything. The hunter walked over to Gehrman, the old man with a peg leg waiting for her to approach before he spoke "Good hunter. You have done well. The night is near its end... Now. I will show you mercy… You will die, forget the dream, and awake under the morning sun… You will be freed… from this terrible hunters dream…" The once blood drunk hunter paused, considering his offer before giving the first hunter a sad knowing smile. "But Gehrman... who will free you?"