Bloodborne - 188 Vileblood V.S Executioners

“Hey Phil,” Croacky called out. “Phil, come take a look at this. He was hiding like a trapped rat!”

Francis retreated a few steps to take a good look at his foe. His had a strange aura about him. He reminded him of the fight against his ex-master. This one, however, had a purple aura around him.

“How did you get here?” Francis asked.

Phil caught up with Croaky at that moment. “D’you find him?” he asked, panting.

“Exactly as Gavril described him,” Croacky said. “An old man who fancies playing hero, and a Vileblood at that!” Croaky spat. “You’re a sorry excuse of a hunter, that’s what you are.”

“How did you get here?” Francis asked once more. The fact that they were here disturbed him more than their hostile intentions.

“Why should we tell a dead man anything?” Phil asked with a wide grin. “Let’s turn him into soup.”

Phil was the first to move. He held the giant wheel the executioners used as weapon with both hands and charged. Francis dodge aside only to find Croaky right in front of him.

“You should watch your surroundings, old man,” he said then buried his fist deep inside Francis’s stomach. The hunter didn’t have time to retaliate, as Phil had recovered and charged Francis once more. The excecutioner’s wheel hit the old man in the back, propelling forward, toward the workshop’s brick walls.

Francis collided head on with the wall. His nose broke with a loud snap, and the two executioners sniggered at the sound.

“Don’t you love it when they squirm,” Croaky said with his coarse voice. Francis heard him slowly walk toward him. He fumbled in his pockets and injected himself with a blood vial.

“Oh yes,” Croaky said. “Satiate your filthy blood’s hunger. Let us see what you really look like.”

He charged, but Francis was ready this time around. He whipped his pistol and shot him right before he could land his attack. Croaky fell to his knees, his eyes struck with horror. Francis willed his beastly arm to transform.

“I thought Quip here told you to stay alert,” Phil said as he hurled his heavy wheel at the old man. Francis had to duck to avoid the large weapon. The latter bounced against the workshop’s wall then fell on Francis’s head. Disoriented, the old man didn’t see Quip’s retaliation coming.

The executioner heaved his weapon in the air with both hands then brought it down on Francis. Blood spurted out his mouth and nostrils, and the world around him suddenly became red. A constant ringing in Francis’s ears stopped him from hearing the executioners’ jeers.

He could still sense their movements however. He took Phil’s kick in the stomach through gritted teeth. They won’t hear him scream even if they pushed him to the limit. Quip held Francis by the collar and brought him closer to him.

“Do you know why we carry these heavy wheels around?” he asked. His eyes expressed a degree of mania Francis could only attribute to a crazy man, thirsty for blood.

“So we’d tear you apart limb by limb, hear your bones crush and grind,” Phil answered. “Haaahahahaha….”

“Let’s get started,” Quip told his companion in his usual croaky voice, only this time there was a hint of excitement to it.

Phil giggled like an excited child. “Yours or mine?” he asked. Francis fought through the pain as the two executioners debated which murder weapon to choose. He took two vials and injected himself without their notice.

His Chikage lay on the ground a few feet away from him. Quip was standing on his pistol. They both had their eyes on him as they debated the best way to make him feel every bit of agony they could.

“Remember to keep his heart beating,” Phil said. “I’d hate it if he just died, then our work would’ve been for naught.”

“It’s not my first rodeo champ,” Quip said. He slammed his executioner’s wheel on the ground then they both headed for Francis. Quip was about to hold him from his feet while Phil aimed for the old man’s arms. “On three,” Quip said. “We put him on the wheel, and we watch us a Vileblood scream! Hehahahahaha…”

Francis was quick to act. He kicked Quip in the nuts then, with surprising agility, rolled backwards, used his hands as leverage and kicked Phil with all his strength. Both his feet connected with the executioner’s stomach. The hit propelled him in the air, backwards and toward the workshop garden’s fences.

Quip winced and retreated a few steps. Francis’s pistol was up for grabs. Quip, realizing his mistake, rushed to pick it up.

“You should watch your surroundings,” Francis told him before landing a punch at the executioner’s back of the head. Quip lost his balance and staggered forward, leaving Francis enough room to pick up his pistol then rush toward his katana.

“PHIL!” Quip’s croaky voice echoed across the empty space of the Hunter’s Dream. He turned to look at Francis. His eyes displayed intense rage, even his arms shook and his face had grown beet red. “You’ll pay for this!”

When Francis kicked the executioner, he’d sent him flying into the garden’s fence. The unfortunate Phil landed on the sharp spikes. He looked like the multiple impaled corpses Francis saw in Hemwick, only this one was fresh.

Quip heaved his executioner’s wheel and put it against his shoulder. “You wanna see what executioners are really capable of?!” he screamed. He put his free hand on the wheel and turned it. With a whirring noise, the weapon turned, and a sinister crimson aura enveloped it. “Get ready to taste fear!” Quip said then dashed toward Francis.

This time around, the executioner didn’t leave Francis any openings. Despite the heavy weapon he carried, he was as fast as the old man. All of Francis’s swings and stabs cut through the air without reaching his foe. On the other hand, the executioner timed his counter-attacks perfectly.

He managed to land a hit on Francis after a long exchange. The old man winced in pain and jumped backward, only to be surprised with his body falling on the ground. Searing pain shot through his right foot. When he looked down, he’d realized that the wheel had crushed it to a bloody pulp. He took a blood vial and injected his injured leg.

No results… Blood kept on rushing out of the battered foot, but the tissue didn’t reconnect.

“We’ve been fighting your lot for as long as time itself existed,” Quip said. “Use all the blood vials in your inventory, there’s no escaping me now.” He rolled the wheel once more, and the red aura enveloped it. Then he rolled it once more, then another turn.

The wheel had turned dark crimson. The aura that enveloped it slithered outward, like snakes hissing at the air. If one hit had turned his foot into mush… Francis hated to think what the next hit would do. Quip gave the old man a condescending smile. Then he produced his own firearm from his belt.

He aimed it at Francis then pulled the trigger. The bullet split into different particles, which hit the old man on different spots. The strength of the shot had driven Francis back onto the ground. He was panting heavily. Lead penetrated his body and seemed to sink even further inside.

“Stay down for a while, will ya?” Quip said. “It’ll be over in a minute.”