The Yharnam Blood Hunt Diaries: Entry 21 – A Bad Dream?

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Did I not say that I did not fully trust Gehrman? I believe I said that early on. I am too tired to leaf that far back through this journal to check now. I am headed home.

Final report: I entered the curious meadow of flowers that the great tree overlooked. Gehrman was indeed sitting at the foot of the tree.

As I got close, he spoke up. Congratulated me on my performance. Said the night was nearly over. The only thing that remained was submitting my life to him, so I could die, and with me the hunter’s dream, and I would wake up under the sun. I would be free to walk away.

I will not lie and say I was not tempted. The thought of all of this just ending without any more effort was appealing. However, the Queen of Blood shall not submit to any man. So I straightened my back, lifted my head high, and told him flat out that I refused.

I think my defiance amused him, and he started speculating out loud at what might be the root of it. Though in retrospect, the way he was saying it seemed more like he was asking: what tipped me off? How did I see through the ruse? Maybe that is just my imagination.

He got up out of his wheelchair, revealing as I had suspected that his legs worked perfectly fine. I am honestly not sure if that was actually part of a deception, or if he just preferred to sit down at his age. If he was anything like mother, I would suspect the latter.

The fight was fast-paced and short. He was clearly tough, fast, and strong, but he seemed out of practice. His moves were fairly easy to read, and almost as easy to counter. The doll had said he used to be a hunter himself, but that must have been a while ago.

I got a few scrapes, and needed to administer some blood, but Gehrman had fallen. I was thinking of heading back to the doll, saying my goodbyes, asking if she wanted to come along, then warp out of there for the final time. Then I felt it behind me.

I turned around and saw the moon. It was a lot larger, and a lot redder, than it had been when I started the fight with Gehrman. Bigger and redder than I ever saw it, even in Yahar’Gul. And coming down, as if descending from the moon itself, was some sort of creature. Another horror.

It looked unfinished. Ribs sticking out, limbs uneven, head half-done, tail and hair a mess of raw tentacles. It was as if it had tried to mimic something, but hadn’t been able to complete the job. And the sensation I got from it. It was as if the moon itself had descended upon me. I could feel the pull of the moon emanating from it, stronger than I had ever experienced, and it was triggering the change.

The tentacles reached out and started dragging me in as I struggled to retain control. When I got so close I could practically smell the thing’s smug sense of superiority, the confidence it had in its own supreme existence, I flared. At least, I assume I did. I have seen it happen to mother, and some of my siblings, but I of course cannot see myself from the outside.

Whatever happened, it actually gave the thing pause. My struggle to stay in control was gone, and replaced with cold, hard rage. How dare this thing try to take me? I barely remember the rest. Tearing into it, ripping it to shreds, crushing its bones with my jaws. It is more like a series of flashes than a coherent sequence.

At some point it stopped moving, and shortly after it exploded into sparkly dust. The Dream was fading around me, and for a moment everything went black, then white, and when I could finally see again, I was stood at the entrance to Yharnam where the coach had brought me in. Leaning on my poleaxe, as my legs felt weak. I had this strong feeling that I was free to leave now.

Conclusion: In the end, I did not actually discover who stole our blood. It might have been the Church. It might have been the Yahar’Gul cultists. It might have been Gehrman. But I did track down and destroy or reclaim every bit of it. I even found the container, completely empty, and threw that on a pyre as well.

I will admit it is hard to keep absolute count when it comes to an amount of blood, but I believe what I found matches up with what was stolen. If anything did manage to hide itself away somewhere, and resurfaces later, I will just have to deal with it then.

Yharnam is lost. A few beasts still wander the streets. There was none of our blood in them, and I felt like I had had my share of killing for a while. I don’t see any way for this place to recover, nor do I think I would want it to. The flames in the streets are slowly spreading to the houses. It is best forgotten.

Once I had secured a stagecoach out of there, I went and collected the few remaining survivors in Oedon chapel. The beggar was heart-broken, but he was okay enough to walk on his own. Sister Adella and the grumpy man I had to carry. I made sure to give Arianna and the old woman a quick burial.

I have no idea what became of Eileen. I hope she managed to find a way out of there on her own. Maybe we’ll meet again some day. That would be nice. We could have a proper cup of coffee.

For all I know the queen of Cainhurst remains in her castle. She might remain forever. Our deal has ended, as the Church seems completely collapsed. Maybe I shouldn’t have restored her.

I suppose that does leave Master Willem, but I was really not in the mood to trek all the way out to Byrgenwerth to check up on him. I can no longer access the Dream, after all. I wonder if the doll is trapped in there now?

As for all the great horrors perched around the place, I don’t know what they are going to do. The one at Oedon had not moved at all. Maybe none of them will. But we should probably put the area under observation in case any of them try to move elsewhere.

And finally, I am absolutely ready to get myself home again. See the family. Report to mother. I know I have changed. Irreversibly so. With their help, I hope to better learn exactly how and in what ways, and how to live with it.

With my work here concluded, with Yharnam dead, with the Dream inaccessible, I am not sure how valid my royalty still is. Can I be the Queen of Blood outside the hunt? All I know for now is that I am loathe to relinquish this crown.

The further we get from the place, the more it all just seems like a bad dream. I need rest.

~Nicoletta Wulf


Posted on August 18, 2015, in Fiction, Games, Let's Play and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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