Central Yharnam...

I walked to the last of a few beast transforming Yharmanites placing my foot on his chest suffering from many cuts and a bleeding laceration in his chest. I pointed my pistol down at this head and fired splattering blood across the cobble ground. I stood alone in the middle of a slaughter numbering about 8 men in total this time. This night, if you can call it that, seems never-ending by this point. I know ate least six hours have past and yet the sun hasn't moved an inch in the sky.

I breathed out calming my nerves before getting back to my routine.

I search, I kill, I loot, and then I move on.

The bodies are cleaned up by the time I return from the dream after abiding in the echoes of blood and fixing my worn weaponry. Collect blood and stack more and more bodies when necessary until your sick of it. Maybe that'd the normal life of a hunter during the night. I'm different through because of my task. I need to hunt Pale Blood and transcend the hunt despite so little answers to what and why. Thankfully I've one that can help with that.

She hadn't moved and inch since I last saw her. An old woman playing hunter dressed up as a crow with the mask of a plague doctor from lands quite a distance from here. Unsure to why I know this I've placed any sudden knowledge to the side for now. I know of a plague from the south and doctors there among the plains and ocean would wear masks like this and bills full of herbs or some manner of flower to cover the scent of death in the air. It's the same practice being utilized by myself even now with a mask soaked in whiskey or anything I could scavenge in the streets. I've acquired more blood than I know what to do with and oddly enough it appears any extra vials I find are placed in a "storage" of sorts. I could practically feel as as with each vial I'd used and replenished the excess wouldn't be in my bag but disappear elsewhere.

It's all madness, but by this point I know simply accepting this insanity, picking and choosing what to lose my mind to, and burying the rest far more preferable a method to sustain my mental health than allowing it to consume me.

I've trek through these streets, slowly learning that not everyone or thing needs to be hunted. I've walked past many who wished me harm opting the subtle approach instead so not to alert groups that past by me. I've watched the huntsman ransake a house, pulled a man and woman out kicking and screaming by their hairs, then converged upon them. That couple... They transformed. Fur sprout from their skin, their muscles contorted and grew, and their backs arched down like a beast designed as a quadruped. I watched as the couple tore into the huntsman killing a few until overwhelmed by the mob. While drunk with blood it appears they've an instinct to track down anything that's not like them. Maybe the beast hood within them guides them towards those further lost to the blood, but if that's the reason why do they attack me?

I'm not a beast. I'm just different.

I wish I could make sense of this.

"Foul beast!" That what they called me once they saw me. They've mistaken me for a beast? Perhaps is because I'm out and about. They could have the "if you're not us, you're a beast" mentality, and If my speculation is correct that's fine. They appear to be doing good work finding the beasts while my eyes can identify which one of them are too far gone to remain. I don't know how long this "night" is supposed to last, but its gifted me time towards adapting to the hunt. I can stalk men and beast alike under the cover of dark and silently take those too large and those too far gone instead. I'll be judge, jury, and executioner of those that need to be hunted not simply kill everything aggressive towards me. But I'm still left in darkness being reason while I decided to seek her out.

"Still lingering about eh lil-til hoonter?" She greeted me in her own dry, bland, and nonchalant way. I didn't bother trying to mask my approach. This old woman's senses far exceed my own. Her hearing is so keen she probably knew I was here before dropping on the veranda. The hunter in the garb covered in feathers and the mask of a crow complete with a wing like a cloak. Her clothing underneath sort of reminded me of what a constable might wear if you remove the crow-feathered bits. Is she's a public servant of sorts hunting for criminals? Then why the crow aesthetic and doctor's mask? Does she hunt sick criminals then? There's so much symbolism within her garb and feel oddly drawn to it.

I like it.

Even when I first met her some time ago while hiding from the beasts, she spoke to me the same. Her accent is unlike my own as well. "I've been watching you run around Yharman now young hoonter. Even saw you running out of the muck of the sewers." The hunter in the garb covered in feathers and the mask of a crow complete with a wing like a cloak turned her head a tad until the eye hole of her mask faced towards me. I dropped my chin a bit in shame. She's probably been watching, even stalking me, for hours I'm sure to gauge out my abilities to know all this without me realizing. It speaks volumes of her skill in comparison to me.

"I'm trying my best senior hunter," I greeted her back respectfully with a short bow.

"Hmph," she huffed before turning back to look out towards the lower reaches of Central Yharnam. "Ay, I suppose to are. I've noticed you've soften your steps a tad. Good. You were tu loud before lil-til hoonter." She spoke of my start crushing beasts and making noise every which way. Perhaps eluding to then I completely decimated a mob by myself killing over 20 men over time. Looking back at it now, I know it was a mistake and regret my earlier actions spawned by ignorance.

"I was trying to survive and reacted accordingly," I said honestly.

"Oh Ay, I noticed. They always throw you young ones out here, scared and uncertain, causing as much damage possible. Fools all," the elder hunter scoffed talking about a topic I'm uncertain of.

"But what's wrong now young lady? You be a hoonter, yes? Are ye unnerved by a few beasts? Heh heh," the crow dressed hunter chuckled at me.

"Maybe a few," I answered lightly and took a breath to calm my nerves. I can't find too much normal human interaction, if this can constitute as normal, very often and felt myself a little bashful. I quickly slapped my own cheeks to get my mind together. I removed even my hat and mask feeling the crisp cool humid air licking my now naked chin and cheeks.

"Hmph," the crow hunter Eileen scoffed at me. "No matter. What is it you want lil-til hoonter?"

I rubbed my head still trying to land that accent if hers to the lands I can recall. "To thank you for the hunter signs. They came in handy down there." I pointed out the sewers below in this "color" part of town full of ghouls, rats, Crows, and other freaks better off in a circus than a factory aqueduct.

"Did they now?" The crow turned completely around to face me now. I think this the first time she's actually given me this much attention. She leaned against the railing of the veranda to study me, and I willed my body to remain still despite the needles of her scrutinizing gaze picking at my skin. I felt her eyes focusing the most on my face I think this being the first time she's seen it. "Such nostalgic features," I think I heard her mutter under her breath. "You see the lanterns then, yes?" She questioned earning a brow raise from me adding more intrigue to this.

I figured that the Bold Hunter's Marks she's gave me were probably a relic from long ago. The parchment that the symbol of the hunter that was on is very old, covered in blood, and saturated many times over before they were given to me. I feel that these marks are tied to the lanterns and so the dream. If that's the case she must've used these and if so then maybe she's tied to the dream as well.

"Do you," I questioned back.

"I did," she sighed turning back to look back out towards the sewers I suppose satisfied enough with what she saw on me. I felt anticipation and exciting at finally finding a source to clear up some of this nonsense. "But it was long time ago. Perhaps before you were born." The crow gestured to me her hand out from her chest before pointing towards me. I followed the angle towards my waist with my cane and pistol at my side. Nothing out of the ordinary. "Take care of that." I looked down once more to nothing worth pointing out. "That bag is older than you know."

Ah, that's what she meant. I pat the bag on my lower back and nodded. It's certainly very old looking to be around a century or so, and yet so well constructed to last through the decades despite the many hands it's passed through. "Did you used this as well when you saw the lanterns? It is quite useful, very unnatural at that."

"Heh, I thought the same during my time as well. But, you've yet to answer me my question. Maybe you'll tell me if ye dream or not."

I hesitated to answer. This woman probably gave me these marks as a joke never expecting that I could use them. She's not a friend to me, at most just a fellow hunter. That's not enough to trust this woman though. But I'd rather not test this hunter. Old she may be, I can see much life left in her stature. The set of twin daggers weren't missed either. They looked perfect for killing humans and not beasts. It left me to wonder just what manner of hunter she is to use such small weapons.

"I do dream," came my answer in the end. Might as well not hide this away.

"Tell the lil-til doll I said hello the next time you do," the crow said smoothly. She lacked the hesitation that I had before leaving me a bit embarrassed. I felt a bit disturbed by the sudden reminder of that doll in the dream. I covered my face with my mask once more and placed my hat back on. It's an act that earned a head turn from the hunter for a moment before returning back to her previous stature. "And you're welcome for the marks, hoonter. I've no need for them, and haven't since after the moonlight was praised."

"Right." I sighed accepting whatever nonsense what was. Moonlight and praising it? How ridiculous. Talking to this woman didn't offer me much outside of the realization that I'm not special. There's been others that's been in that dream other than us.

"Excellent work with the Cleric Beast on the bridge by the way. You've potential."

"Thank you." I said loosely as a question crossed my mind once the realization hit me. I know she dreamed as I do and knows the doll. That means she's been in my shoes and perhaps had the same mission as me and completed it. She's the only one I can ask this to and could get a concrete answer. "May I ask you a question about the dream?"

"What is it now lil-til hoonter? Are you scared still? Hehe."

"Pale blood," I said ignoring her shite. The Crow trembled a bit at the mention of it. She was shaken for once.

"What is Pale Blood?"

"Do not ask me that lil-til hoonter…" the Crow warned in a dangerously low tone. I felt a cold sensation up my spine as I watched the feather on her garb somehow stand on ends and an aura make itself known around her. It was malicious and unfocused like a beast moments from coming off its chain. "I remember very little and something tells me that is better left forgotten," it sounds she spoke through grit teeth. It obvious lie that even I could see. She remembers everything or at least most of what she saw during her night in my bloody boots.

"But I'm living it right now." I said firmly ignoring the warning in her voice. "I want to know what Pale blood is and how to transcend…"

SHING!

My words were stuck in my throat. A knife rested against it leaving me speechless. By the gods I didn't even see her move. One moment she had her back to me standing at least seven to eight steps away and in the blink of an eye she was before me. As I held my hands up surrendering to the elder hunter I noticed a second knife aimed for my chest as well but not at my heart. It's more between my core and my heart normally more accurately the area for visceral blows. If rend through there and my neck I know death awaits me, mostly painless and quick. This isn't the tactic a normal fighter would make. More like an assassin.

She's not a hunter of beasts but a hunter of humans.

"You know so little lil-til hoonter. For your sake, keep it that way." The crowfeathered hunter sheathe her blades swifter than lightening back into the wings of her garb. I gasped out a breath I didn't realize was being held and breathed harshly seeing my life flash. A life so shortly lived starting in that bloody clinic leading to here. Maybe she's right. Knowing can end my life and I've live so little up to my current knowledge. This clear warning to stop my ministrations branded my mind. She could silence me before I could blink, but this silence provided me a new revelation. I felt it like I have in beasts I've stalked once they started to run. I felt a sickening sensation of fear in the pit of my soul not only from myself but from her. She fears something related to pale blood, but what could it be? What about pale blood spawns this much fear from a woman this deadly?

"I'll take your words to heart," I said breathing softly now. This crowfeathered hunter had her own hunt and was released from the dream, but obviously it's left it's scars she's no desire to have resurfaced. Maybe she's not as strong as I first assumed, orr maybe the hunt is more traumatizing than I fear. Maybe this is only the beginning of a long and treacherous night. This though is the limit of what I can get from her now.

"Be sure that you do lil-til hoonter, now leave me. You've lingered long enough don't you thing?" She walked back to her spot, her steps were silent and softer than satin.

I hummed a bit and turned away to leave. The hunt must continue, and the healing church is my next step.

"And be care of the blood else... you may truly taste my blade next we meet." She hunter moved her cape to the side flashing a single blade that shined beautifully in the full lamp light. She chuckled again covering her blades giving me silent permission to leave.

I rubbed my neck where that blade rested and gulped to moisten my dried throat. I believed this crowfeathered assassin. She will kill me if deemed necessary and something tells me it won't be painless. This thought rested in my mind as I entered the factory once more to carry on the hunt.

"Ladders," I huffed. "So… many… high as hell… ladders!" I complained spitting curses ever few seconds. Why does Yharnam need this many ladders that are this tall? After killing that boar, I have to climb a damn ladder with the disgusting smelling abyss below me. Boar thankfully disappeared once I killed it leaving another badge for me to claim. A saw hunter badge of all things to add to the collection with a hunter's body nearby in a pile of... Ugh!

"Finally," I slammed my hand at the top and yanked my ass over the edge. That damn kirk hammer was heavy on my back. I should have changed to another weapon instead when tackling Central Yharnam and their dozens of ladders.

Once at the top I spotted the brick troll of before that tried to flatten me with a ball of fire.

"There you are," I snarled and grabbed my weapon. It turned around to face me only for me to slam the hammer on top of its head forcing it flying back against the railing of the bridge. I rose it up once more and smashed it in the torso and once more in the head. "That's for nearly crushing me you bastard!" I spat on the corpse before dragging my hammer and I away. I can see the Church in the distance. I'm almost there. First I took a moment to sit down and abide in the blood. This blood is invigorating enough to cure me of my fatigue. At first stabbing myself with this syringe sort of stung, but it doesn't hurt too much anymore.

I leaned against the stairs with my kirkhammer as my backrest.

"By the gods." Once the blood flowed into my system. "What is tired again," I said to myself. The voices answered me. They talk a lot of gibberish but sometimes they speak coherently.

"Let's keep hunting." My body shot up to its feet. Need to get up to that chapel and get to the Cathedral Ward. I'm motivated and ready to slay some more beasts… or so I thought. Once I reached the top what met me was something strange or rather harrowing. I walked I to what appeared to be a cemetery withany gravestones and a large leaning obelisk in the center receding down into the soft hollow grounds of the cemetery. It's of a strange almost fascinating design complete with cravings distinct even through the mist garnering a haze over my eyes.

Stranger still was what was between the obelisk and I being a man dressed in church like garbs, a fedora hat, a blind fold over his eyes, and a hunter's axe in hand. I watched as what trembled and gasped like a dying animal below him was a beast that he kept hacking at with his axe again and again until after it stopped moving. It's not so strange for I've taken to ripping many beasts apart as well, but such displays of barberism I can't lay claim to.

I slowly crept closer towards the church hunter trying to soften my steps as much as possible to not to arise his attention. I watched as he turned his attention to his right and too spotted a beast of sorts. This one though wasn't aggressive but instead expressed what appeared to be great terror before the hunter. It was on a knee covering its eyes in a surrendering fashion as if pleading to be saved from the slaughter. The church hunt though would have none of this. As if in a bloody daze he swayed like a drunken man left and right, nearly stumbling even, towards the beast.

SCREEECH!

SMASH! SMASH!

SQUELCH!

I looked away. This wasn't hunting but bloodly murder by this point. I've come across fear rattled beasts a few times but never dealt the finishing blow. The huntsman handled it for me when I wouldn't do it myself. It wasn't hard to lure a few mad men towards a beast.

"Blood addled." This phrase played in my mind loud enough for it to escape past my lips. A hunter that's lost their mind by the looks of it. Maybe he can be saved though still if I knock him out and treat him with some blood. Maybe get him to the dream and have the doll take care of him like she did me. This man is a hunter and probably stronger than me, but I'm sure I've been fighting human adversaries for too many years to be perturbed. A massive hammer won't help me much, best use my sword and my cane the most.

I approached the hunter tentatively as he wailed upon the corpse of the beast like a man possessed. "E-Excuse me. H-Hunter," I stammered a bit as the scent of putrid blood filled my nose. It repulsed me back a step forcing me to cover my masked nose, and worse were the voice becoming louder once the sicking smell smothered my senses. I nearly saw red until I gripped fast my rational heart and pushed the beast hood away.

"You..." The hunter spoke with a voice so empty and devoid of emotion if he wasn't moving now I'd think he was dead. He faced me looking dead ate despite his eyes being covered. I felt mouth dry before his gaze, feral and almost inhuman. "You... Killed Harris."

"H-Harris?" I questioned thinking back to anyone by that name. I've dealt with many men and beasts so it's possible one was named Harris at one point.

"On the Great Bridge..." his gasped then pointed a blunderbus towards me. I tensed wondering if he was about to shoot me until it fell back down limply at his side. "With my hammer and pistol."

"Y-Your hammer?" It was then it hit me. This man is the one I was looking for. The hunter that little girl asked me to find and I've been using his weapons this whole time. He witnessed me felling the Cleric Beast and even more so it was a man named Harris who must've been his compatriot at one point. "Uh, yes! Sorry!" I bowed swiftly to my senior hunter appearing to be in this late fourties. Despite the small sliver of guilt I felt relief he's still not too far gone we can't converse.

"Do you want it back? I can give it back to you but..."

"Beasts all over the shop..." The man breathed out deeply forcing me to a pause. "You'll be one of them, sooner or later..."

"I..." I dropped my chin from that accusation. "I'm trying not to become a beast. It's why I've started using this." I presented the cane to him that the messengers gave me after placing the hammer away for safe keeping. He hadn't asked for it back, yet. "And besides I'm relieved to find a fellow hunter such as yourself. Actually I've this for you."

I reached into my bag and presented the music box to the man who still hasn't moved from his spot. "I met your daughter and she..."

"I have no daughter..." He muttered in a raspy and croaky voice dripping with... Hunger? I think you could call it hunger but of what I'm not sure until I remembered the words from the girl. They play this whenever he forgets who they are meaning I could do it now and bring him back.

"Just wait a bit." I responded to his threatening tone with a calm one of my own. The church hunter suddenly snarled at me, his breath crushed the air shown despite how hot it felt in this cemetery. I couldn't even see my own breath. He must be turning so rushed to turn the knob on the music box.

"Here! Remember!" The music box opened once I cranked it a bit and the tune within played softly filling the silence with its gentle tones. I smiled a bit from the tune that played feeling a bit calmer.

"Ahghhh! Nooooo!" Instead of the calming effect as promised instead the man shook insanely gripping his head as if in pain. "I didn't! I didn't!"

"What are you..." Before I could finish the man rose his blunderbuss and fired it. By the grace of the gods his aim was off and the spread of quicksilver flew past me blasting a tombstone into pieces. I couldn't get another word in before he was upon me swinging his axe at me aggressively. I pulled back swiftly in complete shock.

The music box instead of calming him made him go mad. I asked myself why until I dove out of the way of his axe and watched it slam into a tombstone splitting it down the middle like a log. He means to kill me just like the huntsman of Yharman. I stopped just a few meters away quickly placing the box away. The father pulled the axe out from the ground and faced me trembling like an addict lacking his fix and standing before a treasure trove of the good stuff.

Father Gascogine has lost his mind, and now I'm just a beast to be hunted... just like the rest.