Blood Drunk Hunter (Shadow Slave/Bloodborne Fic)

"Sunless…" Gehrman repeated the name, finding it strangely pleasant to say. It was a very fitting name for the shadow. His initial reaction had been to start making fun of him for having such an odd name, but Gehrman stopped himself. He recognized Sunless as a kindred spirit, and thus felt the urge to be friendly with him. 

"My mother had a poetic soul you see," Sunless explained. "So when I was born under a solar eclipse, she gave me a name she thought was fitting." As the shadow defended itself, Gehrman took note of how rehearsed this explanation was. It had likely been practiced many times before. However, Gehrman had a unique perspective on names since most of the ones he was familiar with came from Yharnam. 

"It's a good name, I think," Gehrman said quietly. It was the first compliment he had ever made since coming into existence. 

Sunless seemed to find this reaction odd. He was clearly uncomfortable talking with Gehrman in the first place, yet he stuck around for some reason. Perhaps it was because he felt it was his role as "scout" to gather as much information as possible. He quickly changed the subject, adding credence to the idea he was simply fulfilling his role. 

"So you know Caster…are you a Legacy too then?" he asked with barely hidden disdain. 

"He asked me that same thing multiple times," Gehrman scowled. "I told him the same thing I'm telling you now, I am not a part of a big fancy family."

"If that's the case, where are you from?"

"Good question," Gehrman said, but he took some time to find the answer. He decided to search through the boy's memories for an answer. It took him a while, but eventually he presented what he hoped to be a reasonable answer. "I am an orphan, but I was adopted by a foster family. Though, it wasn't out of an act of kindness. This guy was trying to save his marriage by having a kid with his wife. She didn't want one so he went out and adopted me, without her knowing of course. He thought this was a great idea, but it was the last straw. She left him, leaving him destitute. He had enough money from whatever job he had before, so he got a small house in the middle of nowhere and started drinking his life away. Since he also received money for keeping me, I was kept alive and fed. He didn't bother to send me to school though, so everything I learned was from searching the internet and pirating books."

There were some other details that Gehrman did not include. For one, the man had taken his anger out on the boy. He was treated as a servant and was both mentally and physically abused. It wasn't fond to dive through those memories, but Gehrman now had an inhuman level of maturity. For that reason, he wasn't terribly wrecked after recounting that history. In fact, he even found a nugget of good in those horrific memories. "I also had two friends, they were the only ones I really talked to growing up." Gehrman wasn't sure why he mentioned this, but it felt rude not to include the only good thing that had happened in that life.

"Well that sounds nice," Sunless muttered bitterly, not contributing his own past to the discussion. Since he was withholding information, Gehrman opened his mouth to speak once again.

Unfortunately, he was rudely interrupted. "Gehrman! I see you have managed to make the acquaintance of our dear Sunless." Caster interrupted their conversation in a jovial mood. Besides saying his name, Caster didn't acknowledge the shadow at all. It was as if he was trying his best to make it seem that he didn't exist. 

Now this is interesting, Gehrman thought. It seems the brat is feeling threatened by the shadow. Maybe that's why Sunless is being shut out. It was a wild leap in logic to assume that this was the case, but Gehrman's instincts told him it was true. Why else would the supposedly honorable Legacy act in such a dubious way?

"I wanted to let you know that I have talked with Lady Nephis on your behalf. Since you showed me your impressive strength on the way here, I managed to vouch for you. Now, she is okay with letting you join us on a future hunting expedition, isn't that great?" He spoke very animatedly. Frankly, Gehrman felt he was laying it on a little thick. Also, wasn't he being a bit presumptuous.

"Why would I want to join your hunting expeditions? I have everything I need back home. I know your arrogant kid, but don't try to make decisions for other people just because you think it's what's best for them. I am living perfectly fine, and I'm not going to stick around here long."

Caster seemed to deflate at this. "Then why did you come back at all?"

The truth was that it was just a simple whim. Perhaps if he was being philosophical Gehrman would say that fate had drawn them together. Instead, he made something up that would piss off Caster. "I needed more paper. I may have dozens of Nightmare Creature corpses but it would take almost a year to get the amount of paper I need, and I know you will buy it from the castle for me for a nominal fee."

Caster's kind eyes started to fall, replaced by the true disgust that Gehrman knew was in his soul. However, more quickly than Gehrman expected, the kind boy was back to his usual self. "I don't know what I expected from you," he chuckled. 

Gehrman shrugged, admitting the boy's self control was greater than his ability to provoke. He then turned back to Sunless, who appeared to be very close to simply disappearing into the shadows and away from this conversation. Before he could do just that, Gehrman reached out and lightly grabbed his shoulder. 

"My workshop is about one and a half kilometers to the right of that big center promenade. Search for a large metal lever, it is hidden in the stone of that small mountain. You will have to give it a good pull, but once you get the doors open I'll come out and greet you," Gehrman whispered all of this to Sunless, using such a low voice that Caster nor anybody else could hear. 

Then, he turned back to Caster. "I'll drop off 15 Soul Shards in a couple days, will you go get me paper then?"

The Legacy made a face after hearing the absurd number. However, he only ended up nodding. Clearly his honor was not enough for him to turn down 15 soul shards from a mentally unstable individual.

Satisfied, Gehrman started walking away, back into the cold embrace of the Dark City. "See you soon," he waved as he disappeared into the shadows. However, it would be two more months until he finally met the shadow again. 

And he would find that shadow on the brink of death. 

…

Before he could reconnect with Sunless, however, something occurred that Gehrman had been waiting for. The [Blood Fragment] counter reached 1,000 out of 1,000. He expected something big to happen, the most likely outcome in his mind was acquiring a new attribute.

He had set himself up in the safest place in the workshop: his own bed. After taking the time to regain full sanity, he plugged the [Portable Blood Imbiber] into his leg. 

However, when he injected the latest vial of Awakened Nightmare Creature blood he felt a sensation he couldn't quite describe. There was no pain, no sudden weakness, no surge of strength (besides the small one that came with the absorption of new fragments), instead it felt as if his soul came to an eerie stillness. 

Confused, he dove into his Soul Sea to observe.

Gehrman rarely visited this place. The dreary sky and disgusting piles of corpses unsettled him greatly. Though he was no stranger to blood and violence, there was something eldritch about the place that didn't fit with his familiar Beast hunting style. 

Though this seemed like a perfect recreation of the pure Hunter's soul on the surface, there was something that unnerved Gehrman. The way the corpses piled seemed intentional, as if someone had pushed bunches of them together to create small mounds. The surface which he stood on was decidedly blood, but it didn't have any of its properties. Perhaps no one else besides Gehrman would notice the slight inconsistencies in the liquid as it rippled after each step. 

However, the greatest contributor to Gehrman's unease was the oppressive full moon that glowed with unfathomable red light. This manifestation of his soul core felt inherently wrong, but whatever the [Blood Fragments] did likely impacted it. He had noted it glowing a little brighter after each successful consumption. 

However, it seemed to have stagnated. Four small comets of red light that represented his pitiful Memory supply still revolved around the giant celestial body, but the moon itself seemed to have fallen asleep.

Gehrman scrutinized his soul, consumed with a feeling of wrongness. 

"What is this?" Gehrman muttered quietly. His voice had no echo in the abyss, yet the words seemed to reverberate across the entire wasteland. 

Nothing answered his question, so Gehrman observed further. After all, there was nothing left to do.

He stared at the moon. 

He searched the moon.

He found madness.

It wasn't until a muffled laughter turned into piercing shrieks did he even think to look away. Gehrman violently spun his head around, his vision and [Sixth Sense] on high alert, trying to find the intruder. 

Then he found the source of the laughter…coming from his own mouth. Gehrman was cackling with mad glee at something he himself did not understand. This dizzying realization nearly sent him into another spiral. 

What was that? Why? When did I fall so deep into madness? What is happening? To his horror, the voices ringing in Gehrmans head sounded different. Once more the seams of his identity had started coming undone. This…again!? 

Gehrman's rage became a cycle of viscous anger, joy, and fear. The light of the moon seemed to be pulsing rapidly. Gehrman's eyes naturally returned to hold its visage. What he saw sent him into a primal state.

His soul core was alive.

The moon had the veins of a living creature, strewn chaotically and with no clear function around the surface of the celestial sphere. The pulsing light mimicked the movements of what appeared to be blood moving throughout its body. There was no pattern to the thumping that overpowered all of his senses. This thing…was so beautiful.

It was pure. 

It was the origin of all.

The key to everything! 

All which exists will return to it!

All that breathes will bleed! 

This is the truth! This is love! This is god! This is the devil! This is the universe!

He was wailing with tears, laughter, and anger all simultaneously. The horror of this creature, this sensation was beyond human comprehension. 

Though Gehrman didn't notice it, tiny sparks of blood-red light started to seep from his body and flew urgently to the moon. 

After an eternity of blathering and pitiful nonexistence, the energy was absorbed by the soul core. The moon consumed life hungrily, seeking to regain all which was lost. 

Words appeared in Gehrman's mind then. There were no voices, for they were all screaming. Instead a vague concept was forming. It became clearer and clearer as more [Blood Fragments] reached the primordial god.

The idea, or rather, the identity of this thing became clear to him. Words that attempted to describe it came unbidden. The last scraps of sanity in Gehrman's mind scrambled to say this word. 

The screams of Gehrman rose and fell incrementally as he tried to control his voice.

At first, he could only make a sound resembling a growl. Then, there was something that sounded like a syllable. The [Blood Fragments] kept pouring out, they left Gehrman feeble, but clearer. 

"M-" he started but was cut off with a scream of pain.

"E-" he started but was cut off with a cry of phenomenal loss.

"Fr-" he started…and then he continued. The truth of this world, the origin of all, only one term could describe this concept.

"Frenzy."

…

When Gehrman regained consciousness he found himself back on his bed. After checking his psychological and physical shape he noticed that he was doing quite well. The image of being taken by the moon was still incredibly clear in his mind. In fact, he came to the conclusion that the memory would never leave him. The entire experience had simply been far too harrowing. 

He was lost, unmade, and then remade under that moon. He furrowed his brow at the idea. It was uncanny how similar this process had been to his existence thus far. Each step had been taken, and then reestablished during that odd ritual. Whatever had happened, Gehrman was fairly certain the Spell had nothing to do with it. Despite its cruel nature, the Nightmare Spell was clear in its path forward. There was no other way to gain strength besides following its orders. However, this was not like that at all. 

"Well…I guess I'll have to check eventually." Gehrman decided to go back to his Soul Sea without any delay. The odd feeling he had gotten previously was gone, replaced with something altogether different. 

As he returned to the hellscape that was his soul, he immediately noticed the difference. The weight of the moon had changed greatly, but it also stabilized. As he gazed up he took note of the new form of his Soul Core. It retained its crazy image from before. The nonsensical veins and strange "heartbeat" were clear, but no longer oppressive. Instead, it felt like a caged beast, ready to release at his master's order. Instead of being alien, it now felt familiar and right. Whatever had happened, his Soul Core finally felt like his. 

All of this information and emotion flowed through Gehrman in under a second. Only after that second did a new fear gripped him and all of the pleasantness disappeared from the world. 

Staring at Gehrman from the side of his Soul Core, was an entirely new Blood Moon. He had acquired a second Soul Core.