NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2: "The Nightmare"
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your First Trial…]
The Hunter was in an even more sorry state then when he was first formed. The ideas and memories in his head conjoined to make a maddening mess of a mind. All of this was pushed aside, however, when he felt his arm getting torn into.
A sharp scream of pain released from the Hunter as his mind and body focused on the beast in front of him. Or rather, the best that had latched onto him.
Once again acting on instinct he took out the blunderbuss strapped to his back and fired at the beast's eye. It reeled in surprise, but no mortal damage was done. This was only natural. Beasts would not fall to mere bullets. However, that didn't mean that they were unkillable.
A hunter was called that for a reason. It was because they were the very best at killing. In a motion not dissimilar to the one he made in the garden of that old dream, the Hunter formed his scythe and swung with well-practiced technique.
Blood splattered on his attire, and a thrill ran through him. Adrenaline pushed him onward. Dashing past the beast and slicing once more. The beast howled in pain, and swiped its claws. Instead of rolling backward, the Hunter ducked forward. With great force he swung upward and dug his blade through the beast's neck. With a shuddering breath he watched as the light left the beast's eyes.
[You have slain an Awakened Beast, Scourge Beast.]
The Hunter started at the unfamiliar disembodied voice. He looked around to see where it could have come from when his eyes landed on an old woman.
"Oi, you're not one of the Church's Hunters are you?" The creaky old voice was decidedly far removed from the melodious and clear voice that had entered his mind earlier. As the Hunter took time to consider this, the woman spoke again. "Well get the hell out of here then! You lot from the Powder Keg Workshop or wherever you're from are all mad! Mad I tell you!"
The irony of being called mad by a woman whose life he likely saved was not lost on the Hunter. "Clearly you're the mad one. Insulting a good hunter like myself after I saved your life? What a miserable old hag you are." The woman was not expecting the insult as she stood silently shocked for a moment.
"You no good filth! Calling me a hag when you's just as old! Vile creatures you hunters are! Just because the Church is a little behind on their work don't mean you lot should come out the woodwork!"
The Hunter did not respond to that ridiculous insult as he started to dissect her words. He was in an unfamiliar environment, and as a hunter, it was instinct to gather as much information as possible.
First of all, the Hunter realized that his form had once again changed. Though his garment had not undergone any drastic shifts, his actual body seemed to be that of an old man. He felt his body had wrinkles and his hair was thinning. All the same, his body was just as powerful as it had been before.
The more jarring realization came with the phrase "The Church," as it shook a few more memories loose. The Hunter recalled "The Healing Church," a group of people founded by an old associate in order to spread the great powers of The Blood. For whatever reason, this angered the Hunter. The Church was not outwardly malicious, and even held in high regard because of the practice of blood ministration. Using The Blood, they would cure any illness and treat any injury.
And yet, they were bastards. Every last one of them. The Hunter felt this was the truth, though the exact details escaped him. It was for this reason that when he felt the human presence approaching he readied his blade once more.
A young man came around the corner and entered the plaza he was standing in. His eyes took in the dead beasts, the blood, and the Hunter. He too, had a similar reaction to the old woman.
"Tsk. The hell are you doing out here old man," the young man spoke with an air of confidence, despite the dead beast at the Hunter's feet.
"Oh thank goodness," the old woman started again. "A true and honorable Church Hunter. This old man was insulting me!"
Instead of speaking, the young man reached for his back, where a broadsword was strapped. However, instead of pulling out a massive blade, there was a clicking sound, and a slim sword came out. It was clearly a threat. One that the Hunter was not keen on taking seriously.
"Shove it kid," the Hunter said to the newcomer. "You're not the police."
"I swore an oath to protect the people of this city from beasts, and it seems to me that's exactly what I'd be doing if I took care of you." A faint bloodlust was released from the young man, but it was childish.
The Hunter was nearly ready to carve free more blood when he sensed yet another presence. In less than a second of him noting this. A ray of blueish-green light struck the street from above, and a new man arrived on the scene. This one was a true warrior. The Hunter stiffened at his presence, which was nothing like his subordinates. Instantly, he considered him an equal.
"I apologize for this child's rude behavior, Gherman. I would consider it a personal favor if you refrain from harming him."
The name Gherman caught The Hunter off guard. He had remembered it before, when looking at his scythe. Is that my name? Yes. No. No. The conflict in The Hunter's head caused him to grasp his head in anguish.
Something flashed in the man's eyes. He spoke clearly and calmly. "Sphen, walk this kind woman home please." The young man looked at his leader in surprise, but obeyed the order. The old woman seemed to be taken by the leader's charisma, and didn't put up any fight. All the while the two older men stared each other down.
After the two bystanders left the man took a step toward the Hunter. However, there was no malice in his movements. Instead, there was concern. "You've suffering from Frenzy, aren't you? Don't worry, friend, I have some sedatives on me."
The Hunter, still tense, twitched as the man reached into his coat and pulled out a brown bottle, a wooden cork held in place by a string holding everything together. Despite his wariness, the Hunter felt a rush of familiarity and immediately took the bottle, then downed its contents.
A moment passed, then another, and then… "Ludwig…Thank you,"
The man, the Leader of the Healing Church Hunters, smiled. "So you really didn't recognize me, how frightening. Did you encounter one of the Kin?"
"Shut up for a moment, I need to recollect myself." Indeed, the Hunter felt his memories start to fall into some semblance of order. The recognition of the man was deserved, after all, he had known Ludwig for years, even before he got his current job.
The Hunter also recognized his surroundings. The crooked buildings, cobbled streets and colorful, pale sky were all intimately familiar. He was in the city of Yharnam.