Bloodborne - 196 Yahar'gul, The Hidden Village

Francis was standing inside a church near the Cathedral Ward. He was looking above him. His eyes quivered as he fixated the creature stuck to the ceiling. He’d noticed a similar being near Oedon Chapel, but the latter was peaceful, unlike this one.

A door lay open before Francis. He’d never reached this place before, but seeing this open door gave him an idea. Perhaps Surgit had went through this place and never came back. Perhaps he could find his friend and ask him about Gavril.

His ex-master’s words still echoed through his mind. “What did he mean by friends?” he found himself asking on more than one occasion.

The first time he reached the church, he hurried toward the door without looking up. A vein throbbed in the side of his head at that time. He had just had the strangest encounter. Voices had screamed inside his head, almost driving him crazy. He managed to subdue them into silence, albeit with great difficulty. The price to pay was a head splitting headache.

So when he reached the church and saw the open door, he strode toward it without even looking around him. After all, the place was deserted. Somebody had already dealt with all the monsters that roamed about. He’d found snipers and trolls with their insides sprawled onto the dirt. That only encouraged him to push on and look for Surgit behind the open door.

His advance, however, was brought short as he heard a strange noise to his right. It sounded as though wind had suddenly burst into the church and blasted his clothes. His cape fluttered, and his left ear picked up this incessant strident noise. He turned to inspect its source, only to find himself staring at the deep space.

The next thing he knew, he was in the creature’s gigantic hand, completely at its mercy. He felt its bony fingers wrap around him. It felt as though it wanted to squeeze all the blood out of him. Francis struggled to free himself at first, only to be met with even stronger resistance. That beast, no matter how strong he was, surpassed him in every aspect.

Francis came back to the church after the beast had actually squeezed all blood out of his system. It was a painful death, but it taught him to avoid the damned thing. He ran through the door before the portal to deep space showed up near him once more. As he crossed to the other side, Francis looked back to see the portal floating midair, then followed by the beast’s hand.

He shuddered as memories of the squeeze came rushing back to his mind. After making sure he was out of danger, he headed deeper inside the tunnel he was in. The tunnel opened into some stairs that led to a square in the distance.

As soon as Francis emerged from the tunnel, he heard a faint ringing noise inside his head. He cursed, thinking Gavril would invade him once more. He saw the bodies emerge from beneath the ground, but to his great surprise, it wasn’t who he expected.

Instead of a hunter, Huntsmen, half beasts half men, had appeared. Francis had spent most of his earlier days as a hunter using the Huntsmen as training dummies. He scoffed, drew his Chikage and awaited the Huntsmen’s approach.

As they slowly walked toward him, Francis noticed that something had changed in the beasts. They were coated in a red aura, or was it blood? He couldn’t really tell. The first huntsman that reached him was wielding a Falchion.

Francis knew what to expect. The beast would always swing or trust, putting all its weight behind the attack. Either way, the beast’s attacking pattern was predictable. After the huntsman got in range, he broadly swung and missed. All Francis had to do was to move aside and let the huntsman cut the air.

Francis swung in turn, and opened the beast’s back. To his surprise, that one cut wasn’t enough to bring him down. Francis’s surprise almost cost him another death. The huntsman turned around and thrust his falchion, missing Francis by a hair’s width.

The old man punched the creature in the nose then stabbed it. His sword cut through the beast like knife through butter. This time, he managed to bring it down. The huntsman didn’t fall on the ground as were their custom, however. It exploded into blood and sinew. Only a puddle remained by Francis’s foot to remind him a monster existed there before.

Another huntsman approached Francis next. This one was holding a sickle. His arms had grown to reach his knees. In terms of reach, he definitely had more than Francis. The old man noticed that this one too had this red aura around him. He had to swiftly deal with this one. He couldn’t allow it to surprise him, as did the one before him.

Once the man-beast tried to attack Francis, he shot him straight in the chest. The huntsman fell to his knees, and Francis immediately eviscerated him. The huntsman, however, didn’t turn into a pool of blood and sinew. It stood, fixed Francis with its red eyes then let out a faint growl.

Francis was dumbfounded. He’d always managed to finish lesser beasts off with his pistol and visceral attack. The most ordinary beasts had suddenly become deadlier than ever. It took him another visceral attack to finish the monster once and for all.

As he reached the square, Francis noticed the dream lantern in the middle. His eyes quickly veered from the lantern however. There was a chair in the middle of the square. A skeleton sat on top of it, while a cage was strapped to his skull.

As if this wasn’t enough to shake the old man to his core, inspecting the place he’d arrived in filled his soul with dread. Tall towers with conical roofs sprawled in every corner. Atop each tower, a creature, much like the one who had squeezed him, stood. They seemed to watch every passerby with eyes that were yet to appear on their strange heads. Francis heard the ringing of the bell then squishing sound below the square.

He snuck a peek, only to see a mob of huntsmen materializing from the ground. They roamed the square, looking around for the intruder who braved their forbidden land. They soon met Francis’s eyes, and they all rushed toward him at once.

Francis danced around them, slashing and decapitating whenever he could find an opening. The creatures fell down, but every time he cut one of them the bell would ring again. He’d notice, from the corner of his eyes, that another huntsmen appeared from below the ground.

If things went on as they were, he’d soon be exhausted and they’d make short work of him. He couldn’t waste time fighting a never ending horde. He skipped past the first enemies then jumped over the ones who’d just appeared. He was aiming for the stairs that led to a building, far away from the horde.

As he reached the stairs however, he noticed half a dozen huntsmen awaiting him at the end. One of the beasts lurked above the building. Its gigantic head was facing the old man. He looked into the spherical cage he took for its head. What he saw next made his heart jump to his throat.

From each hexagon on the beast’s head, eyes of different shapes and sizes popped. They all frantically looked around, as though they were looking for Francis. Sure enough the biggest eye landed on the old man. Then a laser shot out, drawing irregular blue lines on the stairs. The laser brushed Francis’s cheek.

The old man, dazed and confused, didn’t see the explosion coming. Fire shot out of the floor, and Francis flew in the air, bloody… Dead.