The Yharnam Diaries Extended – Entry 1: Return
I am back.
I remember going to bed. Ellie was next to me. Her scent was clear to me as I closed my eyes. Then it faded out as a familiar scent of blood faded in. When I opened my eyes, I was standing here.
I am back. I think.
I am wearing the crown again. The dress. The gloves and boots. My axe and blunderbuss are with me. The lamp is at my waist. My satchel for holding this journal is with me, along with the belt attachment I made for blood vials. The belt is fully stocked. Even my ammunition pouch is stocked up. Everything is as I remember it. I feel like I should be more upset than I am.
I am back. Except not quite.
Where I awoke is clearly meant to be the Oedon chapel. The attention to detail is amazing. It is empty. Devoid. As I left it. Yet it is also missing a couple of doorways. They are not blocked up, it is as if they never were.
The outside makes it even more clear. It resembles the Cathedral Ward in many ways, but it is twisted and warped. There is no Elder Horror hanging out there, which is honestly a relief.
Hunters roam the place, wielding weapons I never saw in my time in Yharnam, hunting beasts that seem to just appear from the scenery at a steady trickle, out of walls, rocks, and roots. Never enough to be a real threat, and they practically explode with blood when the Hunters strike them down. Enough to keep the Hunters hunting.
It is like a dream. Whether the Hunters consider it a good dream or bad dream would be only guesswork on my end. Personally I would rather not be here, yet there is something here that compels me. As if something is waiting for me.
I have not explored much of the outside yet. I went far enough to look up the steps towards where the Grand Cathedral should be, and confirm that it is indeed there.
While they do not fight each other, the Hunters do turn on me. I am unsure if they believe me to be a beast, or if they sense that I am different, or if this is just what happens to any new Hunters that arrive here. Upon slaying them, I could feel their essences floating away to reform elsewhere. Unlike the rogue Hunters I faced in Yharnam proper, these ones seem to be functionally immortal. How many times were they slain when they first arrived? How many times until they lost who they were, and were accepted as part of this place?
It is like a dream. Perhaps that is exactly what it is. A nightmare. As I learned during my time in Yharnam, nightmares have a reality of their own. Nightmares have power. One shared by so many must have a lot.