Note: This chapter includes mentions and descriptions of breasts. I'm not sure if I should tag it or not as the Work is rated M. Either way, this is my only warning.

####

"Beast all over the shop… You'll be one of them, sooner or later…"

A statement and an omen both echoed out in the silent cemetery. The speaker turned to Jaune, ripping his axe out of the back of another poor fool that had the unfortunate fate of crossing his paths. Rotten teeth coming out into a twisted snarl of a smile.

"I should have known something was wrong…" Jaune mussed remorsefully as he drew Crocea Mors and Mortem Ignis. Gently stepping into the sombre cemetery that would witness their battle. "It doesn't have to come to this, we can still walk our different ways. You can continue… whatever it is you are doing, and I can continue searching for the young girl's mother."

Pleadingly Jaune tried to get the other hunter to see reason. This tomb didn't need another gravestone. Wistfully looking around the tomb that must have once been a terrific sight, only to have fallen into disarray and been 'sealed' away by tall houses. Much like Yharnam. Once a beautiful place before the blood, before the endless nights, before the hunt. Sighing Jaune readied himself to fight when the other hunter growled at him. Acting no different that the beasts they should be hunting.

"Then… then so be it. At least you won't rest alone" Jaune spat out as he stepped forward. Preparing himself for what he should have known would be inevitable. There was no common ground between men and beasts after all. The only thing that really mattered was who could kill the other first.

'Gascoigne… dear… please come to your senses! This isn't you. Can't you remember? Our darling daughters… come home… please… just come to your senses.' A sobbing and pleading voice cried out. Snapping out to it, Jaune lunged to the side as Gascoigne brought his axe down, cracking a gravestone with thunderous force.

Wildly looking around Jaune saw something red glitter in the moonlight. Dashing towards it, he weaved around and over some tombstones. Wishing he had seen wrong. Almost flying up the stairs, dodging past Gascoigne's volley of shots. Looking around Jaune saw Gascoigne marching towards him. Quickly reloading and lining up for another shot.

Jaune didn't care, allowing the pitter patter of the grapeshot to bounce harmlessly of his aura. Quicksilver bullets or not, aura was a lot like a muscle. Once upon a time the bullets might have disrupted his aura, making him as vulnerable as everyone else. But not now, repeated exposure hadn't made his aura stronger, instead his aura had become extremely viscous. Only being disrupted if he ate seven Quicksilver bullets in a row to the face.

"Gascoigne… what have you become?" Jaune asked horrified as he looked down at the still warm corpse before him. The women had been beautiful once upon a time, silken gold spun into a bun with sky-blue eyes filed with unshed ears staring into the empty sky. She looked so much like his own mother that they could have been sisters. Carefully turning her over he felt nothing but gut-wrenching sorrow.

The poor woman had her ribcage cracked open and her hearth torn out. "It's going to be ok; I will do my best to care for your daughter. She will be safe." Jaune whispered harshly as he gently closed her eyes.

She looked peaceful in death.

"Thank you~ kind hunter." The wind whispered as Jaune stood up. Righteous fury in his chest. Stepping forward, he crashed down into the tomb proper.

A large axe tearing through the air towards him, Crocea Mors flew up and parried, thunder cracked and roared as revolver and makeshift blunderbuss fired.

Grunting slightly as the buckshot's clinked against his aura. Looking at his foe Jaune found him pushed a good five feet away. Gascoigne sported a large hole in his stomach, with blood oozing out. Yet he didn't seem daunted in the slightest. As if it was only a mere flesh wound.

Gascoigne charge at him again, wildly swinging his axe into tombstone and shotting shrapnel towards him. Not one for losing the initiative, Jaune dashed forward. Doding under the extended axe he ran Crocea Mors trough Gascoigne. Frowning as he smelled the man's rotten breath.

"I have you now… little hunter…" Gascoigne growled as a twisted grin split his face, axe and modified pistol clattering to the ground as he grabbed Jaunes hands and pulled the blade even deeper into himself. "Now I am hunter… and you are prey…"

With that Gascoigne seemed to explode, transforming into a towering werewolf. Maw filled with razor sharp teeth split into a malformed and twisted grin. Tearing himself from the werewolf, Jaune whimpered as he tried to dodge away from the crashing blows. They were fast, wild, and brutal like the monster before him. Raining down on his aura with tremendous strength.

Hastily escaping, he tumbled over some tombstones, getting no respite as Gascoigne was quick upon him. Tearing tombstones from the ground and launching them towards Jaune. Quickly he pulled out the music box in a hail marry attempt to buy himself some time. Firing his revolver at Gascoigne to no avail.

The werewolf dashed forward with unnatural grace, effortlessly dodging the three shoots, and throwing himself towards Jaune like the beast he had become. Spinning up the music box Jaune dared to breathe a sigh of relief as the werewolf howled. Clutching its head and roaring as it tried to shake away the music.

As the werewolf was busy tearing its ears of, Jaune dashed over to the axe it had dropped. "Why is it always stupid ideas Jaune…" He whispered to himself as he looked at his sword. The axe had a flat back, the sword pommel had a flat top. When it came for methods to get his sword back there probably existed smart ideas. He could probably use his whip to wear down the beast. But Jaune never deigned himself a smart man as much as he was a practical one.

Extending the axe Jaune readied himself for another one of his stupid ideas. Sweat pouring down his back as he dashed to the side when the werewolf launched itself at him again. Doding under it's crazy charge, Jaune spun and drove the back of the axe into the sword pommel with all the might he had. Launching Crocea Mors trough the thoroughly wrecked cemetery. Intestines snarled around the hilt.

The blade splashing into a dirty pool of water as Gascoigne howled out. Breaking out from his glee at seeing a plan succeed, Jaune stole back the initiative.

"AHH-" Shouting a battle cry as he brough the large axe down on the werewolves knee. Effortlessly cleaving through the leg with ease. Seeing victory on the horizon Jaune raised the axe like a woodcutter and cleaved down with all his might.

Splitting the monstrosity that Gascoigne had become in two.

Blood pooling from the two separated halves as the top half dragged itself through the mud towards him before collapsing into the mud and falling onto it's back. Walking over to the panting werewolf he cocked his revolver. Having one last bullet. Fully intending to give him a mercy killing.

Pushing past the disgust he felt, Jaune watched on in mortification as Gascoigne's face began to morph. Snout retreating and becoming human-like again, maw of teeth turning back into a human mouth. All the mangy hair also disappeared as one side smiled contend and the other was twitching in barley supressed bloodlust.

"Promise… promise me the same you did my dearest Viola..." Two voices said as one. One frightfully calm, as if waking up from a terrifying nightmare and the other a snarl of rage. Gascoigne tried reaching up, only for him to lose all strength in his arm as it collapsed.

"I will… now go to whatever afterlife that awaits you." Jaune swore as he rested the barrel towards his fellow hunters temple.

"Thank… you… kind hunter." Gascoigne muttered as he closed his eyes. "My dearest Viola… I'm on my way…"

Thunder cracked before silence returned to the tomb. The only sound remaining being Jaune's heavy breathing as he stumbled over towards Crocea Mors. Grabbing his sword and beginning to clean it. Pulling away the large and small intestines with indifference. Grabbing his blood crusted washing cloth he started cleaning his blade, finding comfort in doing it.

When the blade couldn't look any cleaner, he sheeted it and slung the axe over his back. Looking over the tomb he sighed. "I'll come back to burry you. Let me just find a casket and shovel first."

But first, he hurried over to the lamp and snaped his fingers, lighting it. With that done he hurried up the staircase and pushed the old gates open. The sound of screeching metal as he pushed the gate open a minor inconvenience instead of what once would have grated his nerves. Blue eyes trailing over all the caskets that rested against each other. 'One of them had to be empty… right?'

"I should have known it was too good to be true." He whispered to himself after having shock every resting casket. The chains on them should have been hint enough, but he needed to at least try. If only so he could still look at himself in the mirror come morning. Resting his hand on the last casket he shook it. Sighing as he heard the telltale thunk of a corpse falling over.

"They… they at least deserve more than just a dirty hole." Jaune sighed as he lifted the casket, resting it on his shoulder. Carefully he stepped down to where Gascoigne and his wife laid. Setting down the casket and letting the corpse inside rattle. With a heavy sigh he drew Crocea Mors and smashed the blade down at the lock, tearing away the chains and sliding the casket open.

Not even flinching as he saw what had become of the poor boy within. The young boy, who could only be younger than Ruby was torn apart. Chest open, with festering and rotting wounds, yellow and bloody puss. The neck was torn open and only some strips of flesh kept it attached, something that couldn't be said about the teenagers arms and legs who were simply gone. Having been feasted upon by what had gotten to him.

"Well… it's your lucky day kid. You are getting buried… and you even get some company." Jaune whispered to the silent tomb. Feeling dirtier than ever before as he gently lifted Viola and carefully laid her into the casket. She rested peacefully in the casket, arms wrapped motherly around the young teenager. The only mercy he could give. Heaving, he lifted what was left of Gascoigne. Having his torso protectively hug the two other inhabitants of the casket as he stood as 'whole' as he could.

Looking around Jaune spotted a shovel by the monument in the middle of the tomb. It was old and rusty, like everything else in Yharnam, but it would do. With a deep sigh, the scoop broke earth as he started digging. Not caring for time as he performed his grim task with determination. When he had finished digging the grave, Jaune gave a warry sigh as he gently let the casket down. Not wanting to disturb their rest.

When the grave was fully covered up, Jaune looked around for what he could use as a marker. Not allowing himself to sob or grieve the tragic fate that had become so common in Yharnam. Their tombstone being a little tower of rubble that he had gathered from all the destroyed tombstones.

"It… it didn't have to come to this… but I guess Yharnam is forever steeped in tragedy." The words hung in the air as Jaune gave the grave one last look before walking away.

"Thank you… kindest hunter…"

Looking back over his shoulder, Jaune blinked as he saw three familiar forms ghost over the makeshift grave. A bright smile on the smaller form as the two larger ones looked on kindly. Blinking again and they were gone. "I really must be losing it." He whispered to himself.

Up the steps, trough the little tunnel and up Jaune climbed in the labyrinth that was Yharnam architecture. Blinking stupidly as he looked around a fully furnished scholarly study. Bookshelves filled to the brim lined the walls. Papper and scrolls littered the tables, and two golden globes gave the study a more sophisticated air. Aimlessly wandering around he opened the chest. Shuddering as he felt something reach trough him when he touched what lied within.

Instinctively knowing that something had been returned to the dream. "What… what was that…" Jaune shuddered, feeling violated in ways he couldn't explain. Trying, and failing to push the memory of that away he stepped up the twisting staircase. Coming face to face with an exquisitely decorated wooden door. Taking a breath he pushed the heavy wooden doors open, calming incense tickling his nose as he laid his all into it.

Stepping into the chapel, Jaune couldn't help but gasp in surprise. It was warm, beautiful and inviting. A far cry from the cold and forbidding streets of Yharnam. Feeling his legs almost give out Jaune collapsed into one of the pews, feeling the exhaustion of the fight and the subsequent burial of Gascoigne slam into him. Loudly groaning as he almost fell asleep at the spot.

"Hmm? Oh… you must be a hunter." A haunting and ethereal voice whispered to his side. Gasping, Jaune jumped up and wildly drew his weapons as he looked around the empty cathedral for any threats. Eyes ending up on the hunched form of a man dressed in crimson cloth.

"Oh… did I startle you? If so, I must apologise. I should have known you would be tired. Thank you for making sure that monster is no more. That beasts roars echoed all the way here." The chapel dweller said in his whispery voice. "The incense must've masked your scent when you came inn… But if you are a hunter, I hope you can listen to my request. Please… if you spot someone who still have their wits about, I beg of you too send them here. The screams of womenfolk, the stench of blood, the snarls of beasts, none of em's to uncommon now. It has never been this bad. Yharnam is done for, I tell ya."

"But it doesn't have to be that way." Jaune sighed, making the chapter dweller light up with a smile. "Yes… exactly… the incense here wards of the beasts. It's safe here… so please… I beg of ye hunter. If you find anyone with their wits about… please send them here, if only to save a life."

"Don't worry… I will…" Jaune sighed as he sat back down on the phew, leaning back with a smile on his face. Just for once, things were looking up. Because there were other souls out there that wanted to help. "I think… I know an old woman that happily would come her. I'm not so sure about Gilbert… and Iosefka is running a clinic of her own. Then there is the little girl… Fuck… that's going to be a conversation I'm not looking forward to."

"I know I have no business in sticking my nose in hunter business… but what happened… if I may ask?" The chapel dweller whispers concerned. A kind soul in Yharnam was rare, and with a deep sigh Jaune looked down at his bloodied hands.

"Her… mother went out on the night of the hunt. Set on brining her husband back… but…"

"No… please don't tell me." The chapter dweller cried out, tears welling in his eyes. A woman out alone on the night of the hunt with no means of protection. He knew how this tale ended. A tale of far to common occurrence.

"Yes… the husband… went mad and turned into a beast in both body and soul. Feasting upon her heart. I… I have no idea how to tell her what happened." Jaune sighed into his hands as he got up. "But… I promised to care for their daughter like she was of my own kin… And… I did my best to give them a proper sendoff… even if the tombstone is nothing but rubble."

"That is mighty kind of you. They are in a better place now…" The dweller whispered, almost jealous. Of what Jaune didn't know, and he was too tired to care. The fight might have been quick, and he had won.

Then why did it feel like he lost?

###

Climbing up the ladder to the little girl, Jaune felt the familiar pit in his stomach. But this needed to be done.

He would never be able to look himself in the mirror if he didn't do this. It was hard, he felt like shit, and was seconds from emptying his stomach. But it needed to be done. The little girl deserved that much at least.

Knocking on the window he felt sick. Especially as the hopeful voice of the girl rang out. "Hello, is anyone there? Is it you mister hunter? Did you find my mum?"

"Yes… I did…" Jaune said, each word tasing like ash upon his tongue. Something the little girl must have noticed as her voice fell. "Mum… mum didn't make it did she.?

"Your father… your father had gotten to her before I could. Her blood was still warm when I got to her…" Jaune confessed. Not being able to bring himself to lie.

"Liar! Dad would never do that! You liar! You only want to keep the broch for yourself!" The little girl shouted out as thumping rang out as she stomped her feet. "Here, this belongs to your family." Jaune said as gently as he could, allowing the little girl to throw her temper tantrum. She needed to scream and shout, to let it all out. Otherwise she would never heal.

Pushing the brooch trough the opening he felt small hands tear the brooch from his hands. Then the tears started. "Mummy… mummy... don't leave me alone. Please come home… I'm alone… I'm scarred… It's not fair…"

"I… I promised your mother that I would care for you… may I come in? You shouldn't be alone now." Jaune asked as gently as he could. The girl shuffled around and blew out the lamp and whispered softly. "No one is home… please leave..."

Knowing when a fight was lost, Jaune sighed out and stepped away. "Just… don't leave… you are safe inside… I'll be back soon." When he heard nothing from the little girl he sighed once again and started climbing down the ladder. He had two or three other stops for the night before he returned here, hoping that she would follow him to the chapel when she had calmed down a little.

Almost on autopilot he made his way over to where Gilbert resided. Effortlessly cutting through rats, mad men, and all other familiar monstrosities. Making his way out of the aqueduct he knocked on the old woman's door.

"Yes?! Did you find a safe place?" The cranky old lady asked. Sighing Jaune smiled, even if the old woman was as crazy as a bat, she didn't deserve to be left alone. No one did. "Yes… the way to the Odgen Chapel is clear, but please don't go yet. I'm going around to see if I can gather more people. It's safer together when I can protect everyone."

"Huh, a hunter with some common sense. Never would have thought I would see the day." The nasally voice of the old woman rang out. "But go do what you must, I'll wait here. Hubert might be dead and buried, but he left me his old Bessie, so I have some means of protection. Go do what you hunters do, just be back soon."

"Don't worry, it should be a quick." Jaune said with a hint of a smile before making his way towards Gilbert. Walking up the steps Jaune sighed as he saw the patrol of five mad men. The aqueduct had been mostly filled with monstrosities with the rare rifleman around. He hadn't missed this, and as they began charging, he drew Crocea Mors. It's bloody work far from over.

Kicking away a head like it was a football, Jaune ignored the slippery blood-stained stairs. Quickly walking up and knocking on Gilberts door.

"Is that you Jaune-boy? Still haven't gotten your wits about and left?" Gilbert chuckled, greeting him like an old friend. Smiling a soft smile Jaune sighed out. Glad that he at least had two people in his corner. Treasuring what unlikely friendship he had with Iosefka and Gilbert. In a city that was hell bent on tearing him, apart, having someone he could trust made the burden on his back feel just a tad bit smaller.

"Unfortunately I left my wits at the gate when I sat foot in this city." Jaune joked, getting a choking laugh from Gilbert. "That we did lad, that we did. But I take it you didn't come all the way over to chat with old Gilbert? Still on your hunt for pale blood I take it?"

"I think so? I have a lead for something in an old chapel in the old part of Yharnam. A chalice of some kind. I also have been summoned by the Cainhurst court. Then there is this tip about something in Hemwick Charnel Lane, I don't really know if it's worth to go after it… but a tip is a tip." Jaune sighed out. He would have almost forgotten about it if he hadn't read his journal while resting in the chapel. But staying productive kept him from feeling. Something he didn't want to do now.

He didn't have any real plan now that he had made it to the Cathedral Ward. 'Maybe it's time to slow down and start exploring those leads? The chalice should help me catch up on sleep and allow me to catch up on blood rites and what other mysteries The Dream hides. Then there was that thing that got stolen from The Dream. If it was worth stealing… then it should be of some importance…' Jaune mussed to himself.

"Well… lad. I don't know about you, but I would do my best to stay away from the conflict between the church and Vilebloods. But… a royal summon is a royal summon." Gilbert cautioned. "I can't tell you what to do, no matter how much I would love to help. But here, take this map. It's not the best around… but it should help you get your wits about."

Taking the map, Jaune grinned as he read it. Tracing his bloody path with his finger. Smiling even brighter when he saw an arrow out from Hemwick Charnel Lane that pointed towards Forsaken Castle Cainhurst. Why it was called that went straight over his head, but he had his path now. Deciding to kill two birds with one stone. He would go 'reclaim' the stolen workshop tool while he answered the royal summons. "Thanks' Gilbert. This is invaluable."

"Bah… invaluable. That map was just gathering dust and will serve you better than it could ever serve me." Gilbert said mirthfully. "But… I'm sure you didn't come all the way here to chat. No matter how much I appreciate it."

"No. Sharp as always, eh?" Jaune said, earning another bark of laughter.

"I might have a foot in the grave, but I'm not daft boy." Gilbert laughed as the mood grew sombre. "What inflicted me is incurable, but this accursed town gave me hope… and their strange blood brought me time. I may be dying, but I am most fortunate to have the privilege of dying man and with my wits about. Not many here in Yharnam can say the same."

"I know… shame it has to be this way. Maybe another time, in another life we could sit down at a café and trade stories." Jaune said remorsefully. "Yes… that would have been lovely. But stop beating around the bush now lad. You must be blind, deaf, and dead to not notice that something is eating at you. Let this old man lend you his ear while he still can."

"I… I killed Gascoigne… He was taken by the blood madness… and had killed his wife. Even going so far as to cannibalise her heart." The silence was heavy as Gilbert waited for him to pick his words. "I… I told their daughter. It wasn't pretty, and I could have done better… but she deserves to know what happened. However…with Gascoigne dead I learned about a place called Odgen Chapel. The incense there wards of beasts, so if you want… you can spend your last moments surrounded by others."

"Thank you... but you needn't concern yourself with me. I'm afraid I'm of little help now… Maybe if you had been earlier, I would have accepted… but I am dying tonight. I can feel it in my weary bones." Gilbert said contently, the man having long since accepted death. "But… here… take this. I made little us of it. Maybe you can find better use of it than I ever could."

With that Gilbert held out an intricate brass mechanism. It was as compact as compact could be, and as he held it in his hand, Jaune couldn't help but marvel. Stepping away from the window and aiming it down the staircase he just came from. Excitedly Jaune pulled the trigger. The nozzle flying up as a beautiful gout of fire roared to life.

"Thank you, I'm sure it will come in handy." Jaune said with the biggest shit eating grin he could have. Hanging the flamesprayer next to his cane. Not feeling weighted down by all his equipment in the slightest. 'I really should settle for a proper loadout soon. But the flamesprayer is staying. Fire is too useful to give up on.' "Rest well my friend… may the night be kind…"

"And Jaune… lad… you did the right thing... It might not feel like it but take it from an old man. You did the best of a bad situation." Gilbert called out after him. Blinking away his tears he let out a shuddering breath. Walking over to the ledge and taking a calming breath.

He only had to talk to Iosefka, then he could bring both the old woman and the little girl with him back to Odgen chapel.

####

"HNNNGGG!" Iosefka screamed as she struggled against her bindings with all her might. Glarding bloody death at the woman that stood over her. Smiling kindly down at her with her own face.

"Now, now dear… I really must thank you." Her imposter said solemnly as she quickly sat up for a blood transfusion. Pulling out four differently coloured vials. Blue blood, red blood, green blood, and a vial of her own yellow blood. "If it hadn't been for you, I would never have been able to find a stabilising agent. Instead turning out as a failure as all others."

A shudder ran trough her Imposters as she inserted the needles with expert ease. "But… thank you. Truly. I cannot say how much you have done for the entire human race. It's clear your betrayal was the Sibyl's blessing. As such, you will be the first human to ascend."

Spiting out her gag, Iosefka tried in vain to bite of her tongue. She knew how messed up the Choir had become. Consumed in their lust for knowledge that the Sibyl fed and nurtured. They had long since stepped of the proper path, happily jumping onto the path of damnation. Fully intent to drag all of Yharnam and her inhabitants down with them to the abyss.

She should know, she had been one of them. One of the Sibyl's most fateful. Until she had stepped before a mirror and seen her reflection. A twisted monster in human skin obsessed with blood and ever thirsting for knowledge.

"Now, now dear. None of that." Her imposter said as the gag was swiftly inserted again. "Really. You should be thanking me. Many would die to receive what blessing you are granted."

Iosefka watched horrified as the blood ministration began. Blue blood dripping into her neck, the green blood dripping into the artery in her right thigh, the red dripped into her arm. Needle not coming loose no matter how much she struggled. "Now… this might hurt a bit. But you are a big, strong woman."

Stars exploded in her eyes as Iosefka howled in pain. Blood boiling, burning, freezing all at the same time. A constant tortuous experience that was only made worse as her tormenter tore her brassiere and corset off. Resting a thin, long needle against her left breast. Trough her pain fuelled haze, Iosefka locked eyes with her tormentor and felt despair set in. Having found nothing but zealous zeal in the eyes of her imposter. Then the Imposter pushed.

"A-!" A silent scream of pain and despair tore through her, gag falling out as she felt her mouth open inhumanly for a split second before snapping shut with a loud clack. Teeth cracking and quickly healing. Collapsing down as she felt her strength leaving her.

Her blood might have acted as a stabiliser, helping to lessen the pain and making it somewhat bearable. Yet it did nothing to mask the pure unfettered horror she felt as she witnessed the veins on her right arm glow in a blueish-green light. Gently illuminating the backroom of her clinic with an outlandish glow.

'It's beautiful.' Iosefka thought in her pain addled haze.

*Creak*

A floorboard downstairs cracked, as loud tired steps thumped up the staircase. Hope burst from her chest, she rigorously started struggling against her bindings. Pushing past the unimaginable pain in hope of being freed.

"Hel-!" She tried to scream, voice coming out as a garbled hoarse mess before her Imposter forced the gag back into her mouth. Quickly strapping her neck down, making it hard to breath as the strap gnawed into her. "Shush, none of that now." The imposter whispered gently, before stepping towards her weapon cabinet.

Taking out her weapons and arming herself before cautiously stepping towards the door, where an all to familiar silhouette stood. The knocking sounded like the tool of a bell inside the silent clinic backroom.

"Hello? Iosefka, are you still there?" An earnest voice echoed out. Filled to the brim with warmth and sincerity that was so foreign to most, if not all Yharnamites. Even if a heavy weariness and tiredness clung to it like parasites. "If not… well… the path to the Odgen Chapel should be mostly cleared. The increase there will ward of most beasts. So…so I thought it would be good to move some patients there if they are able."

"Oh, well, that's splendid news. Fantastic even." The imposter said with a smile, even if her tone was nothing but venom. An eye quickly glancing back to where Iosefka lay as gears turned in her head. "But I cannot in good faith let my patients wander under the sky on this night of the hunt. They are all in critical condition, and if they ever want to be cured, it is imperative that they stay here, where they can get proper care and rest."

"Oh… I guess that is for the best." Despair quickly sat in as Iosefka heard the defeated and accepted tone of Jaune. In vain she started to weakly struggle against her binds. Earning a scorching glare from her imposters as she hurried over to her.

"You're soon off to the hunt, I presume?" Her imposter asked as she tightened her bindings. Making even the smallest of movements impossible. "Then, if you were to find any survivors, tell them to seek Iosefka's Clinic. Upon my Hippocratic Oath, if they are yet human, I will look after them, perhaps even cure them."

"Really? That sound fantastic!" Jaune answered sincerely. And Iosefka felt what little hope she had shrivel up and die. "Yes. This sickness, these beasts, they are not to be feared. This time the night is long. I might be trapped here, but I should do something to help. I'll even offer a reward for your co-operation. Tempted? Well, off you go then."

With her piece said, the imposter quickly hurried over to Iosefka and started twiddling on the vails. Increasing the flow for some bloods, while slowing others down to a constant drip.

"Before I go… I… I'm planning to answer the Cainhurst summoning. Do… do you have any advice? I'm not really sure how to act in front of royalty. Should I bend the knee? Stand proud? I really could use some help." Iosefka felt hope blossom as she saw the abhorrent hate on her Imposters face. Even when her Imposters took a deep breath and did her best not to stomp back to the door, she prayed to all that was holy that Jaune would notice.

"Don't, is my advice to you hunter. The Vileblood Queen is an immortal monster worse than any beast you will find in the street." Her imposter said trough gritted teeth. "Instead you should lend your services to the Healing Church. Alfred, a proud Executioner of the Church. Tasked with hunting down Vilebloods and executing them for their transgressions against the natural order. Give him your invitation and join him on his divine task."

The only sound after the Imposter had said her piece was Jaune leaning against the hallway and sighing heavily. "I… I guess I just wanted to be a knight, you know? To be someone my ancestors and family could be proud of."

"And you are. Everyone who takes up the mantle of Hunter is a knight of the righteous people who are unable to save themselves. They are protectors, it's they who give hope of tomorrow. So please… do the right thing. Find Alfred in Cathedral Ward and give him the invitation. Help him end the threat of the Vilebloods once and for all." The imposter pleaded, eyes alight in vindictive joy.

For what could bring a pious member of the Healing Church more joy than seeing the vermin that dared call themselves their 'rivals' exterminated?

Another heavy sigh rang out in the clinic, followed by the rustling of clothes as Jaune stood back up. "Maybe you are right… I guess between what is right, and what is easy… I just need to stop taking the easy path."

Before the Imposter knew what happened the door exploded in a hail of wooden splinters and glass shards. Screaming as she fell to the floor, weapons clanking to the floor as she tried prying out a glass shard that had pierced into her eye. Like an omen of death, glass cracked under Jaune's leather boots. Kicking away her pistol and cane, he cocked his revolver without hesitation and fired. Once, twice, and trice to make sure the Impostor was well and truly dead.

Iosefka flinched as thunder rang out in the backroom. Starting her struggle anew as Jaune looked over at her, cold blue eyes shooting up in worry as he hurried over. Grabbing the straps and tearing them to bits with surprising strength. Pulling out the needles without hesitation.

Taking deep greedy gulps, Iosefka groaned and rolled of the gurney. Feeling nothing as she crashed into the cold wooden floor. Her vision already starting to change, and as she looked at her saviour, she saw something that no mortal ever should witness.

His arms were coated in red, his head and brain shone a deep purple, orange spots shone like stars as he sweated and panted, yellow coated his digestive system. A web of blue and green bringing everything together in a beautiful mesh of shifting colours. Blinking she saw a deep murky dark blue that swallowed everything sit in the centre of his chest.

And Iosefka hated herself for what she was going to force a grieving man to do.

Had this been anywhere else, if she hadn't felt her organs cannibalise themselves, she would have thanked the Sibyl for her blessing. Granting her the same 'Spirit Vision' that Vicar Laurance wrote extensively about in his journals. Naming it the first step on the proper path. When the veil over one's eyes have truly started to be removed and one could see the 'Truth'.

As she peered into Jaune's clear blue eyes she looked 'inn'. Peering deeper into him. Deeper than any mortal ever could.

A beautiful golden meadow appeared in her vison, with large golden flowers swaying to an unseen breeze. The sky was a haunting tapestry of shifting colours, streaks of crimson red, haunting blue and ethereal violet blending together and casting a shadowy light over the meadow. Around the meadow large, towering threes stood, twisted abominations with grinning faces carved in bark. In the distance Iosefka could spot towering mountains and rolling hills, drowned under torrential rain.

Blinking she was back to the real world, Jaune having lifted her back to the gurney and was desperately flying around the clinic. Searching for something, anything that could slow down the glow in her veins that was rapidly spreading.

"Jau—nnn—ee-" Iosefka groaned, voice coming out as a cacophony of different noises. Jaune either didn't notice or didn't care as he was by her side in an instant. Taking her hands in his in a vain attempt to comfort her.

"Deep… deep… in the Upper Cathedral Ward… upon an Alter of Despair, the Sibyl rests. She… she is the cause of the madness that has taken Yharnam." Iosefka groaned coughing out splatters of blue-green blood. "Please… please end this madness… cleanse us of our sin…"

"I will… I promise, and an Arc never goes back on his words." Jaune choked out. Looking on the verge of breaking. "Th—ank-you…" Iosefka groaned, feeling her vocal cords twist and change, becoming less and less human the more she spoke.

Feebly she reached up to Jaune, resting her shaking hands on the holstered revolver. "No. No! Anything but that…. Please?" Jaune choked out as she weakly shook her head.

"Please… I… I… I wish to die human." Iosefka whispered out, doing the mistake of looking eyes with him again. Anguish twisting her gut as the golden glade seemed wilt and drown under a never-ending downpour.

"Please… anything but that… I… I can't." Jaune whispered as tears welled up in his eyes.

With shaking arms Iosefka did her best to draw the revolver, but the heavy weapon refused to budge. Loosing her grip she fell back onto the gurney. Looking pleadingly at the man she would have liked to call friend. Pleading from him to do the right thing.

A broken smile, and with shaking hands Jaune drew the revolver and rested it against her head.

A gentle smile on her lips, she mustered what little strength she had left and laid her hands on Jaune's. Making the shaking stop as the barrel gently rested against her forehead.

"Thank you." She whispered as thunder cracked.