Another Dreary Hunt: Forbidden Studies

2 O'Clock: Lingering Scent

I was drifting in and out of consciousness, the pain coursing through my body like venom as each beat of my slowing heart sent a wave of agony through my veins. The brief visions of the world I got was like looking through frosted glass, a hazy rendition of the mayhem around me. I only saw glimpses, of glistening crimson spraying across the floors and the powdery blasts of gunfire. A familiar ringing permeated the air, the song of blades slicing through it. Before I knew it the world was dark again, quiet, a moment of peace before Hell swallowed me whole.

When I awoke it was because my back hit something hard, and my body remembered the pain it was in, it screamed through me until my eyes shot open. I gasped and inhaled the thick miasma of slightly toxic forest air as I noticed we were back in the woods.

We.

I heard panting beside me, shaken yet with an underlying relief. It was impossible for me to turn without feeling that agony but I persisted, now facing the exhausted Rom. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, complimenting her almost completely scarlet robes. No semblance of the Church white left. Despite the image, she had a comforting smile on her face, the Rom I knew. "You're awake." She whispered. "I thought I lost you."
"Wh...at...Happened...?" I croaked, my lungs feeling twice as heavy. Though my vision was still wobbly I took a second to inspect myself. I saw the small, deep wound in my chest. Bandages were hastily wrapped around, soaked in my pungent blood, at least Rom tried. "H-He shot you. That creature just...Shot you!"
"Why?"
"Shh!" She covered my mouth and dragged me further into the underbrush, I could hear why. Multiple footsteps, clad in creaking leather boots.

Through the deep green and black of the foliage I could make out the white shapes of Church Hunters, the serrated cleavers and pistols clattering in their grip as they muttered to each other. "She really did a number on us, back there."
"I'll kill the bitch." That one did not make eye contact. "When I find her I'll make sure I tear off her fingers one by one, so she can never read that book of hers again. Better yet, I'll take her eyes." I could see his breath in the cold night, he was panting like a dog as he searched along the path. Saliva dripped from his chin, glistening white teeth craving for flesh. I swear I could see his red eyes, irises breaking apart in a maddening display of corruption. He began to sniff, crouching low to the ground as he glanced around. My heart was in my throat as I heard his growls, human but...off slightly. A hand slowly crept around the tree next to me. Long yellowed claws digging into the bark by my face as a third hunter stalked by, I did not dare to breath as I watched him walk to his crouching colleague who was now cutting at the vegetation.

Slash! Silence.

Slash! Silence.

Slash! Squelch. "Over here!" The men turned immediately and darted towards their associate, whose blade was stuck in the twisted body of a hound of the Hunt. "Beasts." He spat. "Let's check near the cliffs." Their footsteps thundered away, the only sounds after a while were the wind in the trees and my terrified breaths. Rom was crying, absolutely silently.

She dragged me backwards through twigs and stones, trying her best to avoid any main road. She eventually found a small clearing, a lovely circle of night above us as she set me down. "We have...to keep going." I tried to move, a futile effort. "Never mind that, we need to get you better." She moved closer to me, the moon dangling behind her like a dream-catcher. I could not focus on anything else as she rummaged through a small torn bag beside her. What a beautiful final sight, I thought as I tried to smile. I could feel myself getting weaker, the blood slowly draining from my head. My mind began to spin, the sounds of glassware clinking in the bag and the howl of the wind now muffled in my ears. Trees and grass began to melt away into darkness, dripping out of my sight until nothing remained but the still image of Rom in her bloody clothes. Her portrait framed by the illustrious moon.

I blinked, and she was on he ground, books scattered around her as she cursed under her breath in a language I did not recognise. She was new here, just transfered from some foreign country. I did not know where, I never thought to ask when I met her. To be honest she initially felt stuck-up, prissy. She refused help in class, she barely socialised in Byrgenwerth and even when we invited her to a night out in Yharnam she slammed her dormitory door in our faces. Yet something about her clumsily piling up the books she had just dropped drew me to her. It was weirdly cute, and if I wanted to get closer to her I guess something as simple as this was the best start.

I felt content, a joy in knowing that she cared for me enough to attempt to save my life. She never showed it, or maybe that was her way. Maybe if I did not drag her into this foul, disgusting, horrific hunt...We may have been happy together.

I then felt nothing.