Bloodborne - 170 Through Her Eyes

I was taught that we are but a speck of dust in this vast universe. Master Graham had told me about the beasts, the affliction they had brought upon humanity. “This is the general consensus,” he’d say. He tried to simplify his language as much as he could. I was but a teenager after all, trying to make sense of the world that surrounded me. “The truth is, young lady,” he looked at me with wide eyes, a dab of blue to them. “The only beast that exists is the one that lives inside of us.”

Never have I given that statement a thought as much as I did the day we discovered Kos. Laurence was overjoyed. He constantly spoke about the miracle of beholding a live pregnant Great One. They needed her child. Gehrman, my master and benefactor, had looked up to this day all his life. Ever since they’d discovered that blood in the tombs, theories sprung up in their minds.

Together with Laurence, they devoured books and conducted unspeakable experiments. Like a naïve child, I believed in their vision. “The queen looks at blood differently,” I had convinced myself of saying. “She wants to bear a child of blood, an unfathomable abomination.” I couldn’t bear the thought of a human carrying an unnatural child, one born from old cursed blood.

“Blood heals. It is our path to evolution, not slavery. We shall not bow to those greater beings our ancestors called the Old Ones.” I devoted myself to the church. I worked day and night in that ward, observing the afflicted, conducting horrific experiments. Science required sacrifice. It is only through sweat and blood that we could hope to achieve enlightenment.

The day we witnessed that great white whale of a beast was the beast my eyes were fully open. Master Willem was right.

“Our eyes are yet to open.”

Did he mean it as a metaphor? Or was he speaking about something completely different?

Gehrman urged Laurence to wait for the Old One to lose her child. She was soon to go into labor. “Their child never lives,” master said. “It won’t take long until we have the cord.” That look he had in his eyes was unnerving. I saw my mentor in a different light that day. His eyes sparkled. His smile, wickedly drawn on his face, never faded. He sat on the wet sand of the beach, observing the beast’s womb contract violently.

Laurence grew restless. He argued that night was upon us. He didn’t want to face the night without the cord. Urgency had made him careless. He feared succumbing to the scourge more than anyone else. I had given a long thought about this; Laurence was convinced the city was cursed because of his actions. He was convinced that the only way to salvation was the cord.

“Our eyes are yet to open.”

We thought of it as enlightenment. We sought the truth of the universe. In our pursuit, we realized that we never stood on top of the food chain. We opened our eyes and world to a world full of mystery. The Great Ones far exceeded our expectations. They were strong, terrifying but also sympathetic.

That phantasm discovered in the ruins below the city confirmed our theories. All one needed was a fragment of a Great One, and they’d be able to summon them from the Cosmos.

That was the general consensus. I’m borrowing my teacher’s words here. Master Willem argued that the Great Ones were never far. They rather lived among us, unseen to the naked eye.

“Our eyes are yet to open.”

That was no metaphor. Witnessing that Great One lying on the beach affirmed it.Laurence was ecstatic. Using the cord, he and Gehrman believed they could summon a Great One. The catalyst was just means to witness the Great One.

As to the appearance of this one on the shore, we assumed that it had something to do with the fishermen’s transformation. The Great One was suffering, being pregnant only weakened her. The villagers were perhaps trying to help the suffering whale-like creature. We couldn’t confirm our theory because the two hunters in front of me had killed all the fishermen in cold blood. A butchery I’ve never thought I’d see in my lifetime.

Hunting beasts was one thing. Experimenting on the tormented souls helped us gain understanding. It was all in the name of science. What we had done that day was only in the name of slaughters. We were no longer hunters. We were worse than the vilebloods we hated. We didn’t kill to survive. We killed for the sake of killing.

That was the day my eyes opened.

I witnessed a dying creature, using the last of her strength to influence villagers. The villagers helped her sustain the child in her. If she couldn’t live, perhaps she’d wanted the child to live instead. But we destroyed all hope. There was nothing more dangerous than a mother trying to protect her child.

We had reached the point of no return. A bad feeling overtook me, gooseflesh building up all over my body. “We should not provoke to wrath of something beyond our comprehension,” I argued. “Don’t you see? Our thirst for knowledge has blinded us.” I had to slap some sense into the Healing Church leader who eyed me with disdain.

“We already see ourselves as the better species. This one is weak, dying. We cannot take her child, we mustn’t. Master, please think about the consequences. We only know little of these creatures.” Master looked up, his eyes were cold. Chills went down my spine. He was no longer the gentle, considerate hunter I knew.

“This one is dying, so is our city. We act to save our own. She acted to save her child. You saw the villagers, transformed by her power. She can’t save us, we can only use her to get someone who will. My lady please, be rational.”

I was rational. The beast had used her power to transform a whole village. How could we compare to something like that?

The sky had cleared by then. The sun was drowning on the horizon, beyond the western sea. Night approached, slowly but surely. Laurence grew even more restless. “The blood moon won’t show until we’re ready Laurence,” my master urged the man to settle down and wait.

The woman I had brought along was crestfallen. She had seen and experienced too much. She sat next to me, sullen and silent. Perhaps she had felt what I had. Women could relate to a mother losing her child. There was nothing worse than nurturing life, then have it taken away from you by some strangers.

I regret not trying harder to dissuade them. I regret witnessing what happened later that night. I regret the events I helped create. I shunned the blood to be welcomed by it later. Is there such a thing as a God? Is there such a thing as destiny?

It seemed to me that the more I fought, the more life brought me closer to my destiny. I hated how blood was perceived by the queen. I hated how we celebrated and hosted feasts in the castle. People were hungry for blood, drinking it like crazed fiends. I believed in moderation. I believed in a path to evolution.

But that night, when the moon was finally visible in the sky, I heard a murmur. Laurence could no longer wait. He had convinced my master, through constant nagging, that the child had the cord inside the beast. There was no need to wait for it longer than they had to. At that moment, the murmur came, unheard to anyone else but me. I felt my body shudder, a cold sweat broke through my entire back.

The Healing Church’s revered leader proceeded to opening the beast’s womb. They extracted the child, looking at its cord greedily. Their smile soon turned into a frown. The child in their hands turned to dust, like their dreams and hopes. Gehrman was furious, Laurence almost went mad.

I was the first one to scream though. A sharp pain in my womb folded me in half. I lay down on the ground, panting and screaming like a madwoman. “We’ll proceed with the ritual as expected.” I heard my master say before I lost consciousness. “You come with us. If I didn’t have another use for you, I’d have killed you already.” Laurence pulled the woman I captured from the arm and flung her in front of him. My master carried me in his arms. I had fallen into deep slumber then.