Blood Drunk Hunter (Shadow Slave/Bloodborne Fic)

Name: Gehrman.

True Name: Paleblood.

Rank: Dreamer.

Class: Monster.

Soul Core: [ 2/7]

Blood Fragments: 0/2,000

Memories: [Burial Blade (Sealed)], [Hunters Attire (Sealed)], [Blunderbuss (Sealed)] [Uncanny Saw Spear]

Echoes: —

Attributes: [Sixth Sense], [Inheritor of Madness], [Contracted], [Otherworldly Seal], [Otherworldly Abomination],

Aspect: [The Last Hunter].

Aspect Rank: [Divine]

… 

The Runes confirmed Gehrman's suspicion, while also raising many questions. He had indeed formed a second Soul Core. What's more, he was seen as a Monster by the spell. This classification was identical to that of a Nightmare Creature. As far as he knew, this was not something that had ever occurred in the history of the Nightmare Spell. It made him even less human than he already was.

This was unpleasant.

However, it was not unwelcome. 

The prospect of having seven Soul Cores was…it was incredible. The sheer amount of essence he could wield would be incomparable. Though it was not as important for a Sleeper, who could not wield essence with specific control, the sheer strength and power he would gain through being able to continually gain Blood Fragments was incredible. With this, he could become the strongest Sleeper ever. If he managed to become a Titan, with all seven soul cores, he would likely be stronger than even most Awakened. That was how big of a power boost this offered. 

Even then, there was more to this transformation. 

He had nearly missed it, but his Attributes had changed. He had lost both [The Mark of Divinity] and [The Mark of Corruption]. These Attributes did not seem to have much effect besides making Nightmare Creatures more agitated with him, and perhaps making him more unpleasant in the eyes of humans. 

Now it seemed they combined into something else entirely. 

[Inheritor of Madness]: You who are from both the light and darkness have been gifted with a seed of the primeval Chaos that is the source of the [unknown]. As you grow, so will the seed. It will envelope your soul and speak the truths of Madness. Each growth will be marked by a truth. Consume the truth or be consumed by it. This is the mercy of Frenzy.

This was the lengthiest and most comprehensive description he had ever seen the Spell give. It was terribly unsettling. Somehow, it seemed that he had stumbled across some primordial power. If he had to guess where this "seed" came from, it was clearly from his journey across dimensions. In that time, he had been exposed to forces of unnatural power. Unlike this world, which was defined by either Divinity or Corruption, these existences seemed to supersede these labels. The "seed" given to him had always been there, except it had been hidden in the previous "Marks" of Divinity and Corruption. This Attribute now appearing indicated that he would be following the path of primal madness.

A pure madness that was neither Divine or Profane.

It didn't bother Gehrman as much as he thought it might. After all, if he could harness these powers, it would put him on a level that surpassed anything those following the Spell's path could achieve. Or, at the very least he could accomplish things that those infected by it could never achieve. 

Perhaps it was a consequence of the Attribute that he was so accepting of this. Though it described much, the Spell did not clearly state its applications. Perhaps it had none, and it was simply an indication that he would be recognized by something wholly different by the Spell and the world. 

In any case, he did have something new to worry about. That was the "truths" that would be bestowed on him. There would likely be seven of them, likely equally as harrowing as Frenzy. 

Gehrman was unsure how he could prepare for something like that. Perhaps the only thing he could do was keep a good mental state. If he had even a bit more madness in him while making that transition, he would likely have been lost forever…

There was one other thing that helped as well, the fact that he already knew Frenzy. He had entered that state multiple times. During the journey, his initial arrival, and his full descent after being cut in half by the Blood Starved Beast. 

The best way to prepare was likely to dangle himself into the depths of Madness even more. Or (as a much safer option) he could observe it. 

Fortunately, he would have that chance in one month.

…

The next time he saw Sunless, he was dying. In fact, he should have been dead several times over. His gut had been savagely ripped open. His intestines were being manually held in. And he was bleeding profusely. However, for some reason, his blood refused to leave him. 

It was this very blood that had attracted him. 

Gehrman had been hunting as was his routine. Now that he had become a Monster it was definitely easier. There was a qualitative improvement in his physical capabilities, though it did not allow him to be totally relaxed against Awakened Creatures. Not to mention the Fallen that were terribly common in the Dark City. Avoiding those was an absolute must, even with his improved capabilities. 

Maybe if he became a Devil and his sealed Memories became Ascended he could feel comfortable hunting them. Until then, he wouldn't approach them. 

There was an especially harrowing one in the area he now stood outside of. A knight of pure darkness haunted a cathedral. It was Fallen, that much was clear from its aura alone. As for its class, Gehrman was assuming he was a Demon or maybe even a Devil. In other words, there was no way he was approaching that building. 

He only did so because the blood he smelled was inexplicably strange, though he could not place the exact reason why. 

Then it was revealed that it was the blood of the little shadow. 

When he saw him, it gave Gehrman no small amount of surprise to realize that he was panicked to see the boy in such a state. 

Abandoning all pretenses, he approached Sunless. Though Gehrman was fairly Blood Drunk, he managed to push it down. Swiftly taking up a place besides Sunless. The boy seemed to panic, all of his attention had been on his garish wound. He had not even noticed Gehrman's approach. 

"You-" Sunless started with a gurgling anger. The pain of speaking was immense enough that he could only get out one word. The fact that he managed even that was a feat. 

With a cold realization Gehrman realized what had unsettled him. It was his eyes. They were filled with madness. Somehow, over the course of a single month the shadow had deteriorated into a hateful and murderous mess. 

Gehrman moved his hand over the gaping wound, willing the blood to stitch his body back together. However, impossibly, the blood disobeyed. It seemed to laugh at his order, appalled by the gall of Gehrman to command it.

"What the hell is your blood?" Gehrman couldn't help but whisper. 

"It's…a…demon's" Sunless snarled the words. 

Ignoring the strange answer, Gherman gave up on that strategy. He could worry about the implications later. For now he needed to come up with something else. Gehrman didn't have anything on hand that could act as a needle and thread to physically stitch him. He didn't have anything to dull the pain. 

Feeling helpless, he reached into his coat and pulled out the only thing that could be mildly helpful: water. 

Sunless made a guttural noise that could have been a growl or laugh. Ignoring him, Gehrman poured the cool water over him, causing the shadow to seize at the new sensation. 

"Damn…nation" he bit out. 

Gehrman was gritting his teeth. Simultaneously angry at himself for not being more prepared and angry at his feeling that way. He was a Hunter who worked best alone, why should he care about this kid?

"Don't move," Gehrman said as calmly as possible. "If anything comes close I'll kill it. I'll stay with you until it closes enough, then I'll take you back to my workshop where it's safe."

He made the promise without thinking. It seemed like the only natural course of action. 

Sunless seemed enraged by this prospect. His madness made him feral. Incensed by the idea of being helped, or even being around others. 

Nevertheless, Gehrman kept his word. He stayed there throughout the entire night. 

Somehow, nothing came to attack them. And by morning, Gehrman carefully picked up the snarling boy, and carried him back to the workshop.