A collection of stories based on my Bloodborne characters. These stories take place before and during the events of Bloodborne, however the exact time when and where is not important. As much as I myself like to pick apart and analyze Bloodborne, li...
Once more I dawn my cloak, and step into the night...
The clinic is one of the safest places to be during the hunt, nestled away in a corner of Yharnam, protected by gates and fences. It is, however, rarely a quiet place, between the constant rotation of patients and would-be cadavers.
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Yet here I am, out on the streets, tending to those who cannot safely travel during the hunt. Iosefka often begs me not to leave on such nights, she worries for my own well-being. A torch is all I carry on me, I've no need for weaponry as a doctor. Most of these foul creatures despise fire, so I am able to ward them off on more often than not. Occasionally a hunter will come along and escort me, or even huntsmen will allow me to travel within their mobs, as I am now.
Most of these men are already showing signs of the sickness, but I keep this observation to myself for now. What good would it be to tell them when their companions are all too eager to butcher anything remotely bestial? No, I will wait to speak with each of them individually, and depending on the severity of their... Transformation, we can discuss treatment options. We cannot halt the sickness, but we can delay the inevitable, if only for a short while.
These nights are long, but rewarding, as this one is proving to be. Already I have managed to pluck over half a dozen of my fellow Yharnamites from the clutches of death. There are fewer casualties tonight, likely the work of the hunters. Perhaps I can return to the clinic earlier tonight, or even to my cozy chair in front of my fireplace. Such thoughts will have to wait, I must keep focused on the present. There may be safety in numbers, but the beasts' numbers grow by the day, and the unmindful are often the first to fall.
Thirteen on this night, a new personal record. With the sun rising, the hunt comes to an end, and the creatures retreat to the dark corners of the city to hide until sunset. I should return to the clinic, Iosefka must be worried sick. My home, however, is just down the road, which is a convenience I have only just now acknowledged. I'll pay some lad a few coins to deliver word of my safety to her, the streets should be safe enough. In fact, I can already hear the town awaking from their locked down homes. Soon the undertakers shall come through to collect the bodies and bring them to Hemwick, and the streets shall be full of people once more.
I have been neglecting my home, it seems. A fine layer of dust has started to settle along the furniture. Hardly surprising, given how I have hardly been home aside from being tucked away beneath the warm covers of my bed. In fact, I can hardly remember a night where I stayed in, let alone during the hunt.
A warm drink to soothe the body and mind. The curtains have been drawn, darkening my study momentarily while the wood begins to crackle and simmer. With book in hand, I find myself before the dim glow of the now steady flames, though I can already feel my eyes growing heavy.
