Blood Drunk Hunter (Shadow Slave/Bloodborne Fic)

The boy of black and grey hair sat on the floor of his bedroom. The only piece of clothing on him was his trousers. His bare pale scarred skin seemed to tighten around his body, crushing him. His head was slightly tilted to the side, and his eyes were terribly hollow.Gehrman stared at the wall. The empty stone carved by his own two hands.

Dorian, Johann, and Gehrman. He repeated these names over and over in his mind. The names of his past that had been so elusive were now seared into his brain. Should I even call myself Gehrman anymore? It seems disingenuous to my other selves. These thoughts circled around his head with no real direction. He wouldn't change his name, but he would ponder it many more times. 

The pain of the splitting madness was horrific. It had left him numb. Gehrman had bawled like a baby the following night, even with all of his sanity returned. Then he slowly started to become more and more detached. He recognized this as a trial from this "truth," but that didn't make it any easier. 

Many memories returned to him. None of them gave him important knowledge or useful battle experience. It was just pain and loss. How is it that every single person that makes up who I am was tortured multiple times? 

Even the kid, Dorian, was no exception. He had a clearer grasp on his past now, and it was not a pretty one. Gehrman felt that there was no mystical block keeping him from all of Dorian's memories, instead they were simply suppressed. The associated trauma was too painful for him to deal with. 

The only good memories had been about Dorian's friends. Two children his age named Aventine and Tokka. He recalled talking with them often. He recalled them comforting him when he cried. He recalled them dead and beaten as he fell into his First Nightmare. 

The Nameless Hunter, Johann, had even worse memories. Every person he met on that night had either died or gone mad by the time the night was over. Johann was a talent unmatched by any, and yet he couldn't save anyone. 

The old Gehrman who he identified with closely, also had his fair share of scars. Master Willem and the other scholars of Byrgenwerth had pushed humanity beyond their limits in gruesome and vile ways. He became a machine for killing and hunting. Something he was so good at, and yet something he grew to despise. 

Gehrman realized why he had been given the Attribute [Inheritor of Madness]. All of his life he had been surrounded by lunatics. No matter which past he looked to, every sane person met an inevitable death and every mad one lived long and pain-filled lives. 

"Why are you sitting on the floor?"

Gehrman's eyes focused, and he realized that another had entered his room. "Princess," he greeted. "I didn't know you had so much free time these days. I'm surprised to see you personally visit me again after only seeing me yesterday."

"That was four days ago," Seishan said simply. "As for my being here…well you turned away my Handmaidens and the Artisan when they came to visit the last couple of nights. Of course I would take the time to check on your condition, it's what I promised after all."

"Ah," Gehrman turned his head away, saying nothing more. Silence lay thick between the two. 

"What happened exactly? What did you see?" Seishan moved to sit across from him. Gracefully taking a refined seat on the floor. 

"Memories of my other lives…I remember their names now."

Seishan fell silent, and then she turned her head away. "I am sorry. I should have never let you go through with this. I wasn't in the right state of mind either."

"I could tell," Gehrman stayed unmoving. "Your flaw is actually similar to mine. You lose yourself when surrounded by blood."

Seishan remained as still as a statue. Her face betrayed no signs of surprise. "Perhaps," was all she said. 

"Well, I'll try to come up with a less bloody set up next time. I figured that the Awakened Devil would be the best way to push me over the edge, and I kept it alive for the chance that one of you might get a Memory. But I really should have just had a couple vials of Fallen blood filled out, it would have had the same effect."

"Well the thought was still…appreciated."

"They didn't get a Memory did they?"

"No."

"Damn."

This time when silence fell, it was more comfortable. Slowly but surely, Gehrman was becoming a little more animated. 

"Are you going to tell me why you felt the need to go through with that ritual?" Seishan asked absent-mindedly. Though, this was indeed something she had been curious about over the past couple of days.

"I really shouldn't, but I feel like it would be rude not to after forcing you to witness it." He locked eyes with her for the first time that day. "I am a Monster. And I mean that in the most literal sense. I have two soul cores and I am working on forming the third now. I also have an Attribute that is currently gatekeeping my advancements by bestowing 'truths' upon me. But really it just subjects me to a horrific amount of madness. In order to prepare for that, I have to become accustomed to it by dangling myself over the edge of complete insanity as you saw last night."

Seishan's grey skin somehow paled at this explanation. Her mouth didn't fall open in surprise nor did she blurt anything out. Yet anyone who knew her would be shocked to see the ever so slightly contorted expression on her face. After a long moment she finally spoke. "...Four. It was four nights ago."

Gehrman blinked slowly. Then he started cackling uproariously. It was the first expression of emotion he had made in days. Somehow, this one response seemed to flip a switch in him, and the boy seemed to come back to life. 

"Ha…thank you for visiting Seishan," Gehrman said as he stood. The holes in his feet had miraculously closed, but they were still darkly bruised where they spears had been. He flexed his hands and looked at his wrists which had similar discolorations. 

"When I am on the eve of becoming a Demon, I'll send out another invitation. We'll make a whole night out of it, and you'll get to see with your own eyes that I am not totally insane," he smiled warmly.

"...I seriously doubt you can convince me of that," the Song Princess said, returning the smile.

…

After a couple of more days Gehrman returned to his hunts, invigorated by the rest and the entire week of sanity. He carved a bloody warpath through the Dark City, his killings becoming more and more efficient. 

He also spent some time visiting the Outskirts. Occasionally, he would go out and through a freshly cut up corpse in front of them and declare a feast. This was met with general bewilderment and fear, but Changing Star was entirely unphased, simply taking the meat and thanking him. 

He chatted with Caster during these times. Regaling him with stories of his hunts, and asking for his own stories in return. Caster would provide, but his tales were far more humble, and Gehrman accused him of downplaying his feats. 

By the end of the visit, he would always collect more paper and pencil from the Legacy boy, who had taken to carrying a surplus. 

Gehrman required more and more of these supplies, as he was getting closer to the finished product of the Kirkhammer. However, given the unique nature of its makeup, the Awakened test versions were unreliable blueprints for the Fallen version which had completely different materials. Gehrman had taken to drawing hundreds of outlines and doing a great many calculations. 

He feverishly showed these findings off to the Artificer, Cory. However he revealed that he had little idea what it all meant. It seemed his job was more focused on mundane supplies like tables and chairs, thus he had little knowledge of weaponry. Especially one that was as strange as Gehrman's Trick Weapons. 

All the while Gehrman collected more and more kills. He started leaving more corpses behind as his supply closet back at the Workshop started to become more specialized. He realized that many corpses had little use in the vast majority of his crafts, and so they were largely ignored. That being said, he made sure to collect all of the Soul Shards each time. Trade was lucrative after all!

After three months passed, he reached a week in which three boons all fell upon him at once. 

The first was the completion of the Fallen Kirkhammer. Its blade was sharp and hammer heavy. It was still a bit uncomfortable to use as the timing of using this heavy weapon was a lot different than his other Memories. 

The Kirkhammer required a fundamentally different style. Instead of constantly dashing and getting in multiple hits when you could, the enemy had to be lured into being still long enough for Gehrman to charge up a single, unblockable blow. 

There was a learning curve to be sure, and despite it having a higher rank than any of his other weapons, he still felt he was weaker while he was using it due to the unfamiliarity. The weapon had not been a favorite of Old Gehrman's, and Johann used it only sparingly. However, in the Dark City, many of the Fallen creatures he wanted to hunt had armor-like exteriors. Against these monstrosities, a blunt weapon was far superior. 

Failing this though, it would be nice to have another Ascended Memory.

Which was why Gehrman was absolutely ecstatic that he was able to acquire just that. 

Memory: [Burial Blade (Sealed)].

Memory Rank: Ascended.

Memory Tier: III

Memory Type: Weapon.

Memory Description: [A terrible scythe brought from another reality. The craftsmanship, blood, and runes of alien entities brought it to a Transcendent level. Upon entering the warm embrace of the Spell, this weapon's true might was sealed].

Memory Enchantments: [Trick Weapon], [Forged from Blood], [Blood Seal].

[Trick Weapon]: This weapon can switch between two forms in a curious, and speedy fashion. 

[Forged from Blood]: This weapon is blessed with increased durability and sharpness when covered in blood.

[Blood Seal]: A terrible and reckless third party intervened in the creation of the seal, allowing for a slow and gradual recovery back to this weapon's former glory.

[Enemies Slain]: (0/10,000)

The counter had reset once more, and the new number was nothing short of staggering. I had a feeling that it would turn out like this…but are there even 10,000 creatures in the Forgotten Shore? Gehrman couldn't help but lament the new task set out before him. 

Nevertheless, he was still incredibly happy. The biggest boon was also returning the [Blunderbuss (Sealed)] into a viable option again. Though the noise was still a problem, its bullets now had the ability to simply kill unarmored Awakened Beasts with one blow. This made clearing out certain nests incredibly easy, as he could fire off those shots, scavenge the remains, and flea before anything else could show up. 

He used this strategy eagerly, and only a few days later did he finally extend an invitation to Seishan. For he was about to become a Demon.

…

Gehrman stared at the many faced moon, not a trace of fear on his face. His leg throbbed as the new Blood entered his system, and the Blood Fragment counter ticked up to 2,000. Then, just like before he felt the rising madness within him. 

He held off the screaming…for a few seconds. The numerous Blood Fragments rose into the red heavens, only to be absorbed by the unfathomable celestial body. He could hear the shrieks of the many faces. He could hear his own cries. 

He could hear Gehrman crying.

He could hear Johann howling.

He could hear Dorian raging.

And the answer came to him swiftly. The truth of this world. After Frenzy came the distinction between ideas, things, realities. 

It was…

"Dissociation."

…

Seishan stood in awe as the transformation occurred in Gehrman. His presence which had already been morbidly chaotic, turned overpowering and frayed. A change deep within the boy was occurring, and it was surreal. 

Gehrman screamed in agony, his voice taking on different pitches and rhythms. He clutched his hair and pulled, tearing thin clumps out in his effort. 

Then, he stilled. 

When he opened his eyes, Seishan felt something she hadn't felt in her life. She knew fear. She knew what it meant to face down an incomprehensible force. She knew what hopelessness felt like. Yet when she stared into his eyes, she felt like a void was staring back at her. A void of chaotic and messy matter that simultaneously filled everything and ceased to exist. 

The feeling quickly withdrew, as Gehrman stood and groaned in pain. His humanity became evident. With a quirky grin he raised his hands in triumph. "Behold! I have become a Demon!"

…

It was three days after that when Caster finally arrived at the Workshop for the first time. 

Gehrman heard the bell ring and grew curious. After all, neither Cory nor the Handmaidens visited him during the day. 

With a pep in his step, Gehrman went out to greet the visitor. When he saw the cleanly cut hair and the sharp outline of the Han Li Legacy, Gehrman grinned fiendishly. "Caster! It's about damn time you made it!" 

"Ha, well I suppose. But you could have made your home a bit of an easier walk if you had wanted visitors," he replied sheepishly. Caster was giving off an odd energy. He seemed to be in peak condition, but also…stressed. 

"Well what do you bring here this fine afternoon? I can tell it's not the simple hello that I have been hoping for."

"You have a keen eye as always, Gehrman," Caster sighed and faced him with grave seriousness. "I have come here today to make a request of you. I want you to come with my cohort, and help us on our journey to the Hollow Mountains."