Gehrman stared for a second, an expression of disbelief briefly crossing his face at my refusal, but then, a wide, toothy grin spread, deepening the creases of his aged and weathered face.
A low chuckle escaped his throat, "Dear… oh… dear. What was it Girl? The Hunt… the Blood… or the horrible Dream?"
He unclasped his hands, gripping either armrest firmly, before, with a creak of protest from the wooden wheelchair, Gehrman stood up, his top hat nearly grazing the lowest bows of the white flowering tree above him, his form looming over my own.
My mouth, hidden behind the gray bandana of the Wolf Cap, hung open in shock as the man I had grown to view as a father stood before me, something that should have been impossible. He had never left that chair, not once in all the years I'd known him!
Honestly, after all the impossibility and horrors I had witnessed throughout the course of this Nightmare, it shouldn't have surprised me but…
Getting over my shock, I opened my mouth to reply, but I'd hesitated to long.
"Oh, it doesn't matter," he stated, his ancient and ragged cloak billowing in the slight breeze, his steely blue eyes seeming to pierce my soul. A plethora of emotions, regret, sorrow, and strangely, hope, flickered across his expression before settling on a determined scowl.
"It always comes down to the Hunter's helper to clean up after these sorts of messes." With a flourish, he drew a previously hidden scimitar from his side, the blue tinted metal gleaming sinister as he slammed the pommel into a bracket within the top of a long wooden shaft I'd only just noticed was strapped to his back. With a flourish he brought the now complete trick weapon into view, even as he unfolded the wooden handle further.
A massive scythe, the blade's color an almost unnatural metallic dark blue-grey, similar to the Blades of Mercy I'd inherited from Eileen the Crow.
"Tonight… Gehrman joins The Hunt." Almost to quick to be seen, the blade of his scythe screamed towards me, forcing me to roll out of the way, a blast of dirt erupting from the spot I'd previously been standing.
"Gehrman, please, don't force me to kill you too," I pleaded, pulling my facial covering down to uncover my face even as I had to dodge another attack, stirring the field of white flowers in my wake. "There's so much blood on my hands already… You are like a father to me… Please don't make me do this!"
A look of frustration, and pain, filled Gehrman's face even as I leapt away from another attack, another explosion of dirt erupting from where I'd just stood.
"You're making this harder than it has to be Girl! Can't you see this is for your own good!" another near miss as he once again swiped at my head, forcing me to dodge, the last few strands of my silvery-white ponytail falling to the ground, cleanly cut.
"I do wish to leave the Dream though…"
He stopped, an expression of relief beginning to wash across his features before stiffening as I continued.
"…But what about you? You would be left here…" I motioned around us in an all-encompassing gesture, the two of us looking about at the small island within the pillared midnight void known as The Hunters Dream.
"…Alone with a near lifeless Doll. Trapped for all eternity. Never again to feel the warming rays of the sun against your skin. Forever cursed to never experience the sweet bliss of death."
I shook my head, tears streaming freely down my face, and looking at Gehrman, my deep violet meeting his steely blue, and I noticed he too had rivulets of tears running down his cheeks, the moonlight making them appear as silver.
A look of grim determination once more settled across his older features, the sound of his weapon's wooden handle creaking as he tightened his hold upon it. "That, my dear, is the fate I consigned myself to when I agreed to be caretaker of this Hunter's Dream, it is my responsibility, and I will not see you waste away here, under It's baleful eye, due to some… misplaced feelings of devotion. You have a life outside the horrors of Yharnam… I do not have such a life to return to."
He raised his scythe once more, his tearful gaze never leaving mine. "Let me end your Dream, Childe, that you may return to your life, and find your worth in the Waking World."
I quickly back-stepped, avoiding the swipe of his scythe which was perfectly aligned with my neck, before replacing my facial covering and withdrawing my own weapons. From a sheath at my opposite side I, with my dominant hand, withdrew a nameless weapon of my own creation (basically put, the forbidden love-child between the Threaded Cane and the Chikage, constructed using the shattered remains of the Blades of Mercy, infused with my own unique blood during the smithing process, engraved with the Cainhurst Runes of Blood Magik.), and unholstered an Evalyn pistol with my right.
A potent combination, but will it be enough against the one who taught me everything I know? The man who raised me as his own ever since I'd appeared here 9 years ago? Could I bring myself to kill the one I viewed as my father?
I buried such doubts deep within my conscience, bracing myself for the heartache I would soon commit.
"Then if you will not allow me to keep you company in your prison, then I must free you from it, and damn the consequences."
With a flourish, I activated my blade's alternate form, the slight curve of the vaguely luminescent blade coming apart at near-invisible seams, kept from spilling onto the ground using a system of hidden sprigs and tension wire within the grip.
For a brief moment, the two of us stood there, facing each other, The First Hunter, and, if I had my way, the Last.
With little warning Gehrman burst forward in a flurry of strikes, hardly giving me room to breathe as I ducked around his blows, before slashing downwards with my whip, slicing through the fabric of my gray Hunter Longcoat, cutting deep into my shoulder, coating the segmented blades with my blood in the process, the whip's momentum carving a furrowed line in the dirt between us.
Normally such a move would be used to simply create space between combatants, however my blood always had an odd effect on things, most notably when it came to the topic of offensive Blood Magiks. See, much like was recorded of the Cainhurst Nobles, my blood doesn't just serve as an arcane component… it burns.
A line of dark violet flames spread between us, engulfing a charging Gehrman even as they consumed the plants around him.
With a brief cry of pain that tore at my heart, Gehrman leapt clear of the burning patch, eyeing me warily before quickly raising the firearm previously hidden within the folds of his jacket.
With a thunderous crack, I felt the quicksilver bullet enter my lower abdomen, a spray of blood out the back marking it's exit.
A slight gasp escaped me even as I dodged the next volley of bullets, not from the pain, but from the sheer unexpectedness of the wound, something that has stuck with me since my first foray into the depths of depravity known as Yharnam.
Quickly jabbing myself with a blood vial to recover, able to feel as my body stitched itself back together, I went on the offensive, the longer reach of my violet flaming whip putting Gehrman on the back-foot, but before I could capitalize on my small advantage, he rushed in close, negating my range advantage.
I tried to roll under his attack, but he still managed to slice my shoulder wide open, making my whole right arm go numb, and leaving that shoulder of my outfit otherwise ruined. I jabbed myself again, watching briefly as not only my injury, but also my clothes were stitched back together, and I found myself grateful once again that I took the time to find books of value within the Cainhurst Library, discovering a wide selection on Blood Magik applications both within and without combat. The enchantment that mends my clothes through the use of blood being one of them.
Once more Gehrman rushed my position, forcing me to block or dodge. I then retaliated, he side-stepping my slashes of violet flames.
The battle continued on like this for what seemed like hours, but in reality was perhaps a couple minutes as we flashed back and forth across the field at near supernatural speeds, the ringing of steel as our weapons clashed, the acrid smell of smoke from gunfire, the patches of flowers burned to ash with my blood-fire, and hanging over it all, the pale, full moon, shining it's sickly yellow gaze down upon the Hunter's dream, capturing in it's light the tear filled struggle of freedom between Hunters.
With the screech of steel on steel, Gehrman and I broke apart from a lock, his weapon held once more as a scimitar, and mine as a Chikage look-alike, both of us panting from the exertion, even as we continued to face each other.
Looking up at the full moon, I felt as if something was amused, shivers running down my spine before I turned to look at Gehrman.
He was still panting heavily, but a wide grin was etched across his face, a more sincere expression then I'd seen from him in a long while, not since before he'd begun training me in the art of the Hunt, when I still had a child's innocence to the horrors of the world.
"It is only fitting, I suppose…"
I watched him wearily as he spoke, in case he decided to attack suddenly, the handles of my weapons creaking slightly as I adjusted my grip.
"…that out of all the hunters I've trained, the one I struggle the most against to release from this Nightmare is the only one I have truly grown to care for, the only one I truly feel deserves release."
My heart splintered, feeling like it would fall to pieces at those words. A fresh bout of tears pooled within my eyes, dampening the kerchief covering my lower face.
"I have no memory from before all this," I reminded him, once more gesturing to the Dream we stood within, "so not only would I be leaving the one I've come to know as a father to a fate worse than death… I'd be leaving the only place I have ever been able to call home. And, if I'm being honest…" I holstered my Evalyn, pulling the kerchief down once more so that he could see the sincerity of my expression.
"…That scares me more than anything I've faced this Night. Leaving everything I've ever known behind seems an impossible hurdle compared to what I've experienced. But as long as I know you are free, only then will I willingly leave this Dream, for I will not leave whilst you are chained to the desires of an entity that does not care about you."
A moment passed between us as Gehrman's shoulders fell, his gaze once more turning to steel as he shouldered his scythe.
"Then I must endeavor to ensure you fail."
Immediately his arms were yanked to either side, his body turned towards the moon even as the Celestial Energy of the Arcane began entering his form.
Hoping to interrupt whatever this was, knowing it wouldn't be good if he succeeded, I rushed forward, with a flick of my wrist my blade once more transformed into a whip, the blade's momentum causing it to cut a gash in my side, coating the segmented blades in a fresh coat of blood-fire.
I was to late.
With a burst of energy, Gehrman vanished, reappearing a short distance away even as he fired his pistol at me.
Barely avoiding his attack, I dodged right into the swipe of his scythe, he having teleported once more to capitalize on my imbalance.
Completely on the defensive, all I could manage was dodging his attacks, with the odd parry intermingled throughout.
Every attempt I made at going on the offensive was heavily punished, and any time I tried to use my blood vials to recover he would shoot at me, interrupting any attempts I made to heal.
I was on my last legs, cut to ribbons and barely standing when it happened, he shuddered to a stop, chest heaving even as Arcane energy leaked off his body like mist, leaning heavily on his weapon as the heavy use of Arcana took its toll.
Quickly bursting forwards I knocked him back against the trunk of the white flowering tree, disarming him of his scythe in the process, and quickly drawing two throwing knives I jammed them thru his shoulders, pinning him in place before grabbing the scythe off the ground at my feet, holding its edge against his throat
Time seemed to freeze for the two of us, a thin trickle of Gehrman's blood running down from where the tip of his own blade was in contact with his throat.
His gaze softened as he looked into my eyes, tears pooling in the corners of his own.
"Devour the Umbilical Cords."
For a moment, my brain was in shock, of all the things to say in this moment, probably his final words, that's what he chose?
"Quickly Girl! They're the only chance you'll have against It!" He was starting to sound frantic, but I could detect the genuine fear in his tone, one I hadn't heard since I'd accidentally stumbled into Yharnam within the first couple weeks of arrival.
Careful to still hold the blade against his throat in case this was a trick, I used my free hand to reach within the lead lined pouch I wore on the belt of my Ashen pants, retrieving the three Umbilical Cords he had tasked me to collect during my Hunt, small, pulsating cords of graying flesh that where embedded with a number of lifeless eyes.
"Hurry Katrina! Before She notices!"
At the sound of my name, the name Gehrman gave me, I immediately obeyed, suppressing any form of revulsion I might have had at the act.
My perspective of the world warped briefly as a veritable flood of forbidden cosmic knowledge filled my head.
My grip on the scythe faltered for a moment, a brief involuntary jerk as my body spasmed from the invasion of information that could put the library's of Cainhurst and the Healing Church combined to shame.
A splash of wet liquid hit my face and torso, the strong, familiar smell of iron, jerking me out of the haze of Insight, only to gasp in horror at what I'd done.
Gehrman's throat had a heavily bleeding gash across it, but even as I started trying to put pressure on the wound in a vain attempt to save him, I felt his hand upon my shoulder.
Looking into his eyes, he gave me a blood-stained smile, the love and pride clear within his eyes, as he whispered-
"The Night, and the Dream, have been long… Fear the Old Blood… Daughter."
The light began to leave his gaze, his body growing slack even as his hand slipped off my shoulder.
"No… No, no NO!" Even though I knew he was already dead, I refused, and with an anguished cry, I felt a tug at the back of my skull as I seemingly pulled at the fabric of reality, causing blue lightning to claw at my hands.
I slammed my hands against his chest repeatedly, each blow causing his body to spasm as the electricity passed through it. My tears running down my face even as I sobbed, my strikes getting slower and slower as reality finally set in.
Gehrman, The First Hunter, and for all intents and purposes, my father, was dead, slain by my hand.
However, within the Dream, one is never given the time to grieve those who have fallen, I should have learned that by now.
My first warning was the moonlight, previously that constant sickly yellow, darkening to crimson, but by the time I noticed, it was too late.
A giant hand grabbed me around the midsection, and as it spun me around within it's grasp I came face to face with a Great One.
The Great One brought me closer to it's misshapen head, allowing me to get a good look at it's twisted form.
It's entire body was a pink-ish white color, not unlike blood stained bone, it's head tilted permanently as if it's neck was broken, it's face, while pockmarked with deep sunken eyes, looked like a it was frozen amid a scream of terror. Long hair-like tendrils flowed down across its back from behind it's skull, a dark red color, looking like they were actively seeping blood, it's arms were overly long and skinny, hands with to many fingers, each tipped with claws like meat hooks, large enough to crush me with ease, it's torso and abdomen completely missing, the barest traces of muscle and sinew holding together the warped spine and ribcage of the entity, it's lower legs surprisingly muscular in comparison, it's feet also tipped with wicked claws, and lastly, several thin, whip-like tails of sinew and bone.
I swallowed nervously even as the Great One brought me to within inches of it's head.
After a moment, I felt a sensation not unlike oil covering my head, even as a nearly incomprehensible voice filled my mind.
Y̵̧̠͈͔̤̭̬̓̆̆̿̅̈́̆Ǫ̴̡͓̬̱͉U̷̟͈͂̓ A̶̢͕̰̯R̵̡̯̘̩͖̫Ę̴̡̢̛ ̸̧͚̱̖ M̷̨̢̦̝I̴̡̡̨̦̦̮͇͍Ñ̵̡͈̠̤͚͔̙͜ͅĘ̷̨̧̨̘͔̫!
A mountainous force began pressing against my mind, similar to how the Eye of Mensis attacked me, but rather than simply trying to drive me to insanity, this pressure was demanding submission.
From deep within me, I felt something stir even as I began to lose the battle for free will, and with a tremendous howl I forced myself from the Great One's grasp, the battle for dominance over my mind was broken, the mental recoil manifesting physically as flash of light, a concussive wave blowing us apart.
Tumbling across the ground, my body screamed with pain as it began to shift, a slumbering beast within me having awoken, the sound of flesh and bone tearing and contorting filled the clearing, my body becoming something more.
A howl of pain escaped my elongating jaw, sounding more and more lupine as the process continued, the chill of the air reducing as a thick layer of fur began painfully coating my form, feeling like a wave of needles piercing my skin.
Vaguely, through the haze of my pain and the mounting horror of what I was becoming I could see FLORA clawing at her head, her voice once more echoing through my mind.
BÉ̷͕̗͇̬T̴̨̢̛̮̞̰̼͖͓͐̍̈́̆̊͝R̷̛̖̭̯̖͇̮̽͋̒͠AY̵̲̠̘̥͉͍͒̾Ȇ̴͍̳̅͛R̶͉͙͊̀̏̆̆̕! P̴̙̽̊̈́R̷̡̡̧̢̞̠̱̜͉Ę̸̢̭̩̭͙T̵̮̼Ę̴̨̨̪̪̫̟N̵̢̨̨̛͔̪Ď̶̛̘͈̖͉Ĕ̸̡̯̼̤͍̜R̶̢͓̻̰̹͓!
Flora leapt towards me, everything else, my confusion over knowing her name, my horror at becoming a beast, and much more was buried under a wave of instinct as I awkwardly rolled out of the way, finding it difficult to move as I was used to in my larger, now quadripedal form.
Now, facing off against Flora, I found myself surprised at my new size, which although was still smaller than Flora by a wide margin, was at least 8 feet to the shoulder, bringing me to near eye level with her hunched form.
A deep growl resonated from my throat, and I could feel the air grow colder within the clearing, a layer of frost coating the trees and grasses causing Flora to visually shiver, though, strangely, I was unaffected, probably due to my newfound fur.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Flora, rather than leap to attack me physically, began to pull at the fabric of reality, I sensing her intent through my own conection to the power cosmic.
I sprung to attack, thickly corded muscles propelling me across the clearing, newly gained instincts taking over as I leapt, jaws of sharp teeth closing over her throat, the swirling build up of cosmic energy stuck in Flora's chest
And that's when The Dream imploded.
Pain. Pain is what I awoke to as I slowly stirred from unconsciousness, my blurry gaze clearing to see that the glade of white flowers had been completely destroyed, a crater filling the center, ringed by burning patches of red and violet flames.
Quickly checking over myself, I notice my body is covered in silvery-white fur, bands of violet energy, woven into an overlay of pale blue-white symbols, Caryll Runes over a second script I couldnt recognize swirling across my form in a simple, and yet complex design that was almost hypnotic to look at.
As I continued checking for injury, I found that my new beastial form appeared to be anatomically correct for a wolf, if at a drastically increased size, my forepaws being just that, not the twisted amalgamation of hand and claw most beasts seemed to gain, nothing else appearing unnatural or misshapen at first glance other than an additional weight to the top of my head which, from what I've seen of Great-Beasts, leads me to believe I have sprouted a pair of horns...
No wonder I have a splitting headache...
As I watched, the wounds I found started to slowly mend, at which point my mind cleared enough to remember what circumstances had put me in this state.
On the far side of the now burnt-out clearing, the shuddering form of Flora rested, the majority of her throat and torso having been blown apart by the explosive release of the built up energy, but somehow she was still alive.
With a whimper of pain, I stood on three legs, having discovered the hard way that the bones of my right forepaw had been sprained if not shattered, and was still painfull to walk on ad it healed.
Slowly, painfully, I hobbled over to the near dead form of Flora, her eyes tracking my approach.
Weakly she attempted to swipe at me in a desperate attempt to keep me at bay, but even in my hobbled state it was easy enough to step around, weakened as she was by the devastation to her form.
Now standing over my fallen enemy, I could see the desperation within her gaze, and curious, I mentally reached for Flora's mind attempting to duplicate the connection she had initiated with me earlier, even as my lupine forehead made contact with hers.
Only after I made physical contact could I feel her mind and encountering no barrier to stop my intrusion, I delved deeper, and was immediately confronted with a flurry of memories
A young girl, named Flora, playing within the topmost levels of the Healing Church Tower, an orphan like the others, told she was special, told she had a purpose.
A white room, the girl strapped to a table, crying out in pain and terror as something burrowed beneath her skin, forcing itself up her spine. A pale, silvery liquid being fed into her veins, her screams locked within the room as her body began to contort.
The feral grins of the Doctors and Scholars, gazing down upon the twisted and warped form of the girl, the first success.
The light of the full moon, cast upon the now unrecognizable form of the girl, sparking within her maddened mind a childlike thought of escape, the moonlight wrapping around her even as she vanished into motes of light.
An undefinable amount of time within a Void of energy and color, as beautiful as it was empty, then, a hole was opened, more like a pocket, and a deal was struck, Flora now happy that she had a Toy to watch and play with, a Toy that brings more Toys to her, and over the ages she watches and plays, some Toys breaking, others going to sleep with her First Toy's help.
Then Corruption, in the form of a Child, a Leech-Child! Feeding off what was Hers! Anger and hatred filled Flora, but then…
Another Child, floating within the Void Flora called home. Curiosity filled Flora, a spark of her humanity reigniting, she brought the Child to her First-Toy, curious as to what will happen.
Watching the Child-New-Toy grow under the care of Flora's First-Toy, watching as the grown Child-Toy is sent into the Sick-Place to put people to sleep like all the other Toys before her.
And finally, the Child-Toy, fighting her First-Toy. Flora was confused as to why her Toys were fighting. But also curious, and excited, it looked fun!
Then, the unacceptable, the Child-Toy put her First-Toy to sleep! He was her First! The Child-Toy needed to be punished! But maybe the Child-Toy could be her new favorite! She did put the Leech-Child to sleep after all! Flora decided to offer the Child-Toy the same as her First desired, surely then she would be happy! No longer sad that Flora's First Toy was asleep!
But No! The Child-Toy was a Pretender! Flora must defend herself from this Pretender-Leech-Child!
Flora's childlike mind, warped and preserved in a state of madness by the parasite that had bonded with her long ago, was unable to comprehend the truth of the horrors she had committed against the people of Yharnam, unaware she had driven them all further into insanity and depravity, seeing the world as a child who merely wanted love, attention, and safety
Returning to my own mind, I felt tears streak down the sides of my muzzle, and using a small ounce of my power, I severed the connection between the child and the parasite's remaining consciousness, and blocking the pain she would doubtless be feeling even as she began to die.
The gaze within her eyes slowly cleared of insanity, and she reached once more towards me, but this time I didn't move away.
Her hand brushed against my fur, still massive relative to my size, but surprisingly gentle.
P̷̛̽̀̾Ü̸̲͎̃͠P̵͕̎̇͒̊̊̓P̵̋̌͛̓̚͝Y̷̢̬̗̎́
As her strokes weakened, I laid down against her side, offering what comfort I could in her final moments.
C̸̨̰̖̍͗̑̅̈̋͒Ṍ̸͍̥̘Ļ̷̧̬̫̼̟͎̓̀̀͐̔D̶̻͑̐̃͌͊͛
PEACE I replied, nuzzling her head, her arm falling limp across my back.
P̷̡̰̦E̸̢͉̖̲A̶̬̙̹C̷̤̖̥̔͗͝E̷̢͍͈, Flora whispered.
After a moment, her form began to disintegrate, fading into the cosmic mist, but strangely, rather than fade completely, a large portion hovered around my form, the tingle of the raw Arcane causing me to sneeze, before it sank into my form.
A surge of energy flowed through me, etching upon my very being.
Sitting up, I stared at the moon, once more a pale yellow in color, before letting out a mournful howl, mourning the death of my Father, mourning the death of an innocent child, turned monster due to the meddling of the depraved, mourning all those that had fallen this terrible night.
The friendly old man, Gilbert. Rianna and her younger sister Synthia, along with their parents, Viola and Gascoigne. Old Henryk, Eileen, Alfred, Valtr, Adella... All slain this horrible night, all killed because I wasn't good enough, and now, I have become that which I swore to destroy.
A Beast
It was while I sat in mourning that it began, a low rumble passed through the Dream, and with my now expanded senses I felt a pull from… beyond.
At first I ignored it, so deep in my grief as I was, but as time passed it grew stronger, till with a sudden jerk I was knocked over, as the pull started becoming tangible.
I braced myself against the ashen dirt, and looking towards the white flowering tree, Gehrman's body still pinned in place, I felt rather than saw a tear in the fabric of the cosmos, and off to the side, staring serenely at me, was the Doll.
As the pull grew stronger, slowly dragging my form towards the tear, the Doll merely stood there, hands clasped as always, and nodded towards the now visible Rift, a swirl of stars and galaxies being swallowed within its depths.
"Good Hunter… May you find your worth in the Waking World."
And with that, I lost my grip against the soil, and went flying head over tail into the rift.