Father Gascogine...

That's his name. The hunters of before who's insight has guided my hand knew this man and now, so do I. Without a word I drew my sword from my back along with the hammer and held my pistol at the ready to stand against this hunter that can't seem to distinguish me from the things we hunt anymore. The church hunter faced me with a blunderbuss aimed straight at me again, and once more, I dove behind a grave just as he fired taking cover and to get my bearings.

The good Father ran towards me and swung is axe at me. He's faster than the beasts of old Yharnam that's for sure but nowhere near the crow feather hunter. I dodged a few of his attacks with ease ducking and shifting side to side avoiding the axe head. The disadvantage of an axe is its wide arcing attacks. It's easy to telegraph and predict its course. He has a rhythm to his attacks as well, practiced from years of hunting enough to become habit, despite his failing mental state.

I shifted left and right out of the way of this attack slashing his chest and legs where I could drawing blood with each slash. I tried to distance myself and he responded by jumping at me with his axe forcing me to the side away. He pulled out his gun and fired at me once I did this following my movements and keeping on the pressure. That quicksilver spread slammed into me forcing me into a tombstone splattering blood before me.

"Damn it," I cursed. I pulled myself out of the cracked tombstone on moments. I don't have time to hesitate nor can I afford to try and talk this hunter down. No, it's time to hunt once more but now I'm hunting the hunter. I said a silent apology to the little girl before taking a breath slowly coming to terms with the promise I've no choice but to break.

"Die!" I brought my attention up to see him running towards me with his axe ready. I rolled away avoiding a viscious slam of that axe into the spot I was in. I crawled up to my feet and ran towards the monolith in the center of the graveyard narrowly avoiding another spread from that gun. 'I might need to get one of those,' I thought now that I could assess the damage it did to my clothing. I saw spots around my chest and stomach all oozing blood. I gathered a bit on my finger and pulled my mask down.

"Bastard," I cursed and pulled my mask down. I brought my finger to my tongue tasting the metallic and sharp mix of his and my blood. The bleeding stopped without bandages or pressure in moments. "If only I could have a moment to breathe to restore my vitality," I heard myself snarl.

"Now you're running." Father Gascoigne said blankly. He gave chase just as I wanted and waited behind cover if the monolith. I had a plan to get in hit or two in. I glanced over the side of the monolith and watched the man stalk up towards me. The flamesprayer Gilbert comes in handy during times like this when the ground is saturated with oil from the small urns I've carried with me I dropped to during my retreat.

I glanced over the side again waiting until he was in position. I flashed from behind the corner and threw a molotov behind him. The ground behind the man erupted in flames surrounding him instantly. Father Gascoigne yelled out from shock. I doubt he will be expecting what's next. I ran up behind him and slashed at his back spilling blood.

"Gah!" he gasped. He turned around and what met him was the flames prayer. He roared and fell back away from me consumed by a torrent of flames. Another advantage I needed and took. I thrust forward and stabbed him in the chest with my blade. Normally a thrust in the chest would be enough to stop a common beast but not a Hunter it seems. Father Gascoigne swung at me despite this wound and the small of his clothes being on fire.

I ran around the monolith to his flank this time with my kirkhammer complete. My weapon is heavier than that axe.

"Uhh the sweet blood." I paused when I heard him speak suddenly.

I charged and laid it upon the good father. He shifted to the side effectively avoiding it. Of course he avoided it. A blunderbuss shot to the chest was my reward for my arrogance enough to take me off my feet and blast me back to a skid.

"Uhhh!" This damn gun is too strong. Stronger than anything I could fire. I retreated across the grounds scrambling for a blood vial. During a bout reloading my infuser isn't easy and takes time being why I've it ready for emergencies. I stabbed my leg and injected myself. The pain in my chest subsided.

"YEAAA!"

My senses flared and shot to the right. The Hunter's Axe was extended out but the man's speed hadn't changed a bit. I rose my flamesprayer and pushed him back for some breathing room but he was relentless jist like a Hunter should be.I drew my blade and dodged his blows the best I could keeping track of his feet and the movements he could make. The fire was effective to the point that it slowed down his relentless assault.

Father Gascoigne swung that axe of his in a wide arc. This time I couldn't escape it. The axe slid across my stomach taking me off my feet again sending me flying into the dirt piles of the cemetery.

Pain… so much pain! The cleric beast hadn't done this much damage even when it slammed me to the ground.

I struggled up to my knee with my head swimming from pain and possible blood loss. My breathes were labored and my sight starting to blur. 'I'm losing too much blood.' The growing stains in my clothing was evidence enough. I heard that war cry once more and looked up. Father Gascoigne was in the air with his axe up to finish me. This didn't look good and yet I smiled. He was in the air in the perfect position for this.

I rose my pistol and shot the man hitting him in the chest. He stopped instantly in the air and fell down to the ground. He struggled up to his knee this time.

Getting shot with a Hunter's pistol when so vulnerable can stun the largest troll and most feral scourge beast. The same happened to this man leaving him open for attack. I sheathed my sword and stabbed my hand into his chest.

"Gah!" Father Gascoigne gasped. I leaned in until his face was in front of mine. His face was bloody and beard hairs singed from the fire. Blood poured out of his mouth in a load roar.

"To the dream with you!" I gripped the blood within tight and yanked it out of his chest. Father Gascoigne fell back with me to follow towards my discarded sword. He didn't get up this time but was still alive. I had time to inject more blood. I nestled three tubs out and injected myself quickly to get my wounds together.

"Screech!"

My blood froze in my veins. That was the roar of a beast. The cleric beast made one like that one and so does any other person that turns. My eyes rose upon the man that climbed up to his feet gripping his head so hard that blood began to cover his hands. He was ripping off his hair, his skin, and even his teeth. As quickly as he removed parts of his human skin it was replaced by something else. My work to finish my transfusions quickened. He's transforming into a beast. If clerics become 12-foot-tall monsters I'm not that eager to see what a Hunter turns into.

The blood and it's miraculous powers relieved me of my pain and discomfort. I reached into my pouch of quicksilver bullets to reload. 'I've only two left.' I wanted to curse myself for being so damn foolish. I didn't expect a battle like this but should've expected anything.

This next phase is probably going to be as bad as fighting the hunter if it keeps its intelligence. At times, beasts do. Father Gascoigne grew in size, at least eight feet. His hands turned to claws and clothing into ribbons, torn to pieces as he grew. The reddened eyes of this hunter turned beast fixed themselves on me. "Come on," I roared at the beast exchanging the Kirkhammer for the Threaded Cane. "Come and get me!" I sung it down transforming it to its whip state.

ROAR!

The beast jumped at me. Its speed was stifling. I shifted to the side narrowing escaping it's claws. The unrelenting assault hadn't change despite the increase in size. Now his range was between that of his normal and extended axe. I felt his claws cut across my clothes with each pass.

I waited for the same jump attack it did as a man and fired a shot at him. He was stunned and suffered a visceral attack aiming for vital organs now. I pulled out something and smashed it in my grip. This was like fighting beast now but only faster. He'd been better off staying human. "All that fur will burn nicely." I reached back to my bag and grabbed an oil urn in one hand and my last molotov in the last. I tossed it at the beast covering him in oil. It screamed at me in response the lunged faster than before. I had no time before I was sent flying back. It got me in the side. It felt I was cut in half.

'Get up!'

The hunter in me pulled me up to my feet. Father Gascoigne charged at me once more and suffered another pistol shot just before he could hit me staggering him from the ehad shot. A lucky shot if anything. I shifted to side right flank and pulled the whip back. It slashed and dug into his back earning a screech of pain. That didn't matter though I need him to stay still enough for this throw. My molotov slammed into the staggered beast right after and he burst into flames.

"Ahahrahsh," it waved its hand around as the flames consumed him

I ran to his flanks and pulled the whip back and heavily attacked him again and again whipping so swiftly that the beast couldn't seem to comprehend the pain it was in. Both engulfed with flames and flesh being rend from bone with my whip, eventually the beast fell to his knee. I slammed the cane down and took to his back just as the fires subsided.

Crack!

I landed a heavy blow on his back listening something snapped. The beast fell both knees now at mercy to finish this but with my cane imbedded in his back. I pulled it out swiftly and said "Forgive me." I jabbed my hand into his back and grabbed hold of the blood. The same jelly or substance flew into my gasp as if beckoned by the blood within. When this is ripped out it spells the end of a beast and this time there's no getting back up. I gripped it hard and held the beast firm under my control and steady.

"Ahh… ahhh…" the beast gasped.

To his dying gasps I said, "Rest." My hand flew out of his body and with it knowledge filled my mind. So much of this man, his partner, and his ties to a land foreign of this one. A holy man that's lost his mind and came here to repair it. The blood couldn't save him.

"Ahh…" I heard his dying gasps.

"Still alive?" I said with a heavy heart. I picked up his axe discarded to the side same with his blunderbuss and rested both on my shoulder then approached the beast that was Father Gascoigne to finish this. The beast did something peculiar though that brought me to a pause. He extended his hand out as if pointing out something.

"For… give…. Meeee." His arm fell to the ground and all movement stopped. Cracks formed on his skin with light pouring out of them I've seen this happened to a few beasts including the Cleric beast. The body turned to dust leaving nothing but blood behind.

"Forgive me?" I followed the direction he pointed at in the darkness of the graveyard to a small shed. It didn't look out of the ordinary to me. Then I peered my eyes on its roof and spotted something. A body? By the frills on the collar I could assume a woman's.

"What's special about that body enough for a you to ask for forgiveness?" I asked myself. Then I thought back to the young girl. She wanted me to find her father and mother. I've found one but not the other. Then I thought to the music box and it's purpose to make him remember his family.

I looked back at the corpse and quickly ran up the stairs to the top. I placed the weapons of the Father into my bag before I jumped on the tin roof of the shed and checked the body. It was a woman… And she's dead. I had hope though. This could be someone else that was unlucky enough to meet the man now dead. I turned the body over to see a face clean of blood despite her body being covered in it. The face of Priscilla… with a beautiful red brooch on her chest.

Her name was... Viola.

"By the gods," I looked her over and found the cause of death. She was stuck by a sharp object in the side and bled out. I pulled the axe out and used it to cross reference the wounds to the edge finding a match to the wound in her bloody side. "No," I dropped my chin shaking my head. I turned her over to her back. "Gods damn it," I cursed when I inspected her face closely. It was dirty and eyes widen open. This woman had the same color eyes as her daughter.

I looked back up towards where body of Father Gascoigne. I shook my head as this horrible turn of events as the story all began to unfold.

"The wife searched for the husband but instead of the man she married she found a beast with his face." I let out a sorrowful sigh. "And instead of the music box helping him find peace it reminded him of his sin of mariticide. Now all there's left is an orphan, scared and alone at home, patiently waiting parents who will never come home."

I grabbed the brooch from Viola's chest and pocket it. This woman somehow braved the streets full of beasts, avoided the man eating boar, escaped the troll at the end of the bridge, and made it all the way here. Such a brave woman didn't deserve to die like this.

"This town is cursed. Just as Gilbert said."

I climbed up to my feet defeated despite surviving that grueling battle. In my sight I saw a lantern to return to the dream with. I need a moment away from this damn place.

The blood heals all wounds and sickness… but does nothing for your sanity. I've taken in too much blood as well. I need a break.


"Hello doll," I greeted the toy with my face.

"Welcome home, good hunter," she doll bowed.

I walked past her and walked into the workshop. The old man was still in his chair. He looked up to me and flashed a smile. I could almost assume it was born from pride of something I've done. I don't care though and walked to pass him for the door on the other side. "You've felled a Blood Drunken Hunter I see." He said bringing me to a halt.

How does he know I killed a Hunter? He can't have left this world. The doll said this is his place to stay and assumed at all times.

"It had to be done. Such is hunters work as well."

"He was a husband that killed his wife and I saw it all!" The outburst of emotion that followed couldn't be contained. "Once his blood was mine and his insight plastered my thoughts. I saw him kill his wife! He…" I struggled to finish but couldn't find the words.

"It was as if you were the one to do it," the old man answered.

"It was worse than that." I turned towards the old man. "I didn't feel anything when it happened. When I looked into the eyes of that woman I didn't see a wife, a woman, or even a human. All I saw… was more blood," I croaked. My legs felt weak and gave out before me. "How can this be Gehrman? Why is this allowed to happen to people in Yharnam? To hunters like him that drown in enough blood and become beasts themselves. Why?"

I begged for some method to the madness. A reason behind all this. Killing beasts is so simple. The voices from them I can ignore and their memories don't matter. From hunters though it's like their thoughts drill into my skull reaching deeper than any blade every could. It's this same with each horror I've witnessed so far and I fear this is only the beginning.

"Ah… my good hunter." I felt a set of frail hands take my cheeks in hand. They drew my face up until I was looking into the calm and focused eyes of the old hunter. "The blood calls for us all but it will never take you. You're are my hunter and you'll never fall like your prey."

"But that doesn't mean my prey won't break me before this night is over. How do I… any of you elders manage? Eileen is decades my senior and so together. How do you do it?"

"Ah, I haven't heard that name in so long… like that good hunter, abide in blood, and the rest will fall in place."

"It can't be that simple." I shook. My head. "You're telling me to keep hunting until I'm numb to it. What if I don't want to become like that? A monster that can kill without a second thought?"

"Focus. Close your eyes and focus." His tone was so soft and soothing. Like a lullaby of your childhood. My eyes felt so heavy, and so closed placing me in darkness. "Now see the mark. The mark of what you are and what your must be."

The mark of the Hunter appeared in my mind.

"Think of those you've met. If you don't hunt… they will die. Focus on those you save… not those you can't, my hunter."

The voices in my mind calmed and the mark emboldened in my mind. The pain from my thought subsided.

I opened my eyes and Gehrman was in his previous spot with his chin down and staring into space. How did he move that wheel chair back to the alter without me noticing?

I stood back up to my feet with new found clarity thanks to my mentor here. Focus on who I can save. I couldn't save Father Gascoigne or his wife Viola, but I can save their child alone at home. I can save Gilbert and many others I'll probably meet on the way. That too is hunter's work.

"Gehrman." I called out the man. He rose his chin up to me, his sight was glassy once more as if he couldn't see me well like when I first met him.

"Uhh… oh my hunter. You have returned."

This old man is senile but he's my mentor and wise.

I sighed, "yes Gehrman. I'm back and wondering if there's a way to hunt without risking hunting hunters as well."

"The moon is close. It will be a long hunt tonight." He said confusing me but remained silence for his musings. "If the beasts loom large, and threaten to crush your spirits, seek the Holy Chalice."

"A Holy Chalice?" I tried to find information on this chalice from the cleric to Father Gascoigne to very little. I can recall small stipends at best.

"As every hunter before you have and so will you. A Holy Chalice will reveal the tomb of the gods," he told me.

The words of Eileen returned to my mind. She was a dreamer like me and was here. It's the same for many other hunters before me it seems. I wondered if I'm the only Hunter he has or will I see others here as well.

"What might I find in this tomb you speak of?"

Prey to hunter and hunters partake in communion..."

"Sounds too good to be true," I muttered. A place to hunt to my hearts content and work with other hunters as well. I've found two in Yharnam so far and killed one of them. I'd be nice to learn from a couple live ones that aren't major tools or turning into beasts.

"Where can I find this Holy Chalice?"

"Most of the Holy Chalices lie deep within the tomb of the gods."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Why the hell are we talking bsout a tomb and chalics if the chalice is in a tomb I can't reach?

"The few that found their way to the surface," the old man paused. His lost in thought look was on his face. "Were lost again in the hands of men. But if the old hunter tales remain true... One of the Holy Chalices is worshipped in the valley hamlet."

"And where is this hamlet?"

"In a town in disarray."

I threw my hands up losing my patience a bit now.

"It was burned and abandoned, for fear of the scourge, home now only to beasts. The perfect place for a hunter, wouldn't you say?"

"But where is it?" I questioned once more but to no answer. I think that's all I can get out of Gehrman this time. I pat the old man on the shoulder and returned to the doll.

"Hello good hunter. What can I do for you?" The doll asked politely.

"Answers, I suppose. Ones you can give."

"I will answer what I can."

That's better than nothing. I asked, "Have there been many hunters before me?"

"Yes, good hunter. Over time, countless hunters have visited this dream. All of them hunted beasts, and I cared for them during their hunt. The graves here stand in their memory." The doll appeared to be sad at the mention of this. "It all seems so long ago now..."

"Did you have an Eileen here?"

"Yes good hunter. She, like you, hunted beasts."

"Well, she told me to tell you hello."

"You met her?" The doll sounded upbeat for once.

"You could say that. Apparently she no longer dreams. You mentioned as well that you've had many hunters before me. Do multiple hunter occupy the dream or only one at a time?"

"We have only a single guest, you, good hunter," she answered but felt she was holding something back.

"Then at the end of my hunt I'll never dream this dream again? I'll be like her, a Hunter forever but without this dream and only a gravestone as a marker of my presence here?"

"By the end of you hunt, whatever happens will be your choice, good hunter."

Again, her answer was cryptic. She answered the question but it's lacking something.

I think that something is tied to Gehrman. He's a Hunter and yet he has never stopped dreaming. It even sounds as if he's stuck here. The hairs in the back of my neck stood up. I was being watched by something. I turned around and faced whatever was watching me to… nothing. I checked my surrounded a bit but that feeling of being watch never went away.

"Doll." I walked back to her.

"Yes, good hunter."

"Can you channel my blood echoes please?" I need to leave but this comes first.

"Of course, good hunter. Let me stand close to you." I gave her my hand. "Now close your eyes." Last I saw before doing as told wad the doll falling to her knees. The voices soothed by whatever the doll did offered me much reprieve. My muscles grew and compressed under my garbs. My legs and core tensed with the changes to my Endurance. Lastly my skill had to grow. I'm swinging my weapon without the finesse that Father Gascoigne had and he had an axe. Cruder than even my hammer.

The blood was calmed and my body enhanced. It's time to get back to the hunt.

"Thank you doll. I need to leave." The eyes on my back now motivated me on this.

"Farewell good hunter. May you find worth in the waking world."

I nodded to the doll then approached the tombstone back to Yharnam. The messengers allowed me to enter the tunnel of sleep to the lantern. I swear I heard rushing water like waves in the surf this time around.