The Huntress ran hard as she chased after the rapidly shrinking pink dot in the sky. Her body acted on instinct as she weaved between the buildings of Pran. Many times her path was interrupted by a building blocking her way forward, forcing her to take a different route around it.
She lost sight of the foe for a moment as she came ran around one of the buildings, only catching the barest glimpse of it before resuming her chase. She cursed under her breath as she dodged past a family of four to get the enemy back in her view. Each detour slowed her down and gave her target more and more of a lead on her. If she didn't hurry they'd be over the town walls before she could catch them. And if they went too far she wouldn't be able to get home before night fell upon Pran. She needed to bring them down, else she prove herself a liar to Gloria.
The enemy came into view to her right as she ran down the alley, a hand rifling through her coat for anything she could use. Her options for bringing the foe down were thin. None of her throwing knives would reach the foe at this distance. A firearm could but their use would likely violate the deal she made with Captain Felix. Subtle is not a word she would prescribe to any of her guns. She needed some way to hit the enemy from a distance without causing a scene, but none of her current equipment could accomplish that. She needed something that could...of course.
A mental image of a young man in a tattered garb pulling back on the bow that was once a blade. Though Simon, it's original user, had bequeathed the weapon to her she had not made much use of it. It was a magnificent weapon but the Huntress could never foresee a time where she could use it. Her enemies always had a habit of spotting her and closing the distance before she could put it to use. But at this range...
She shook her head while spinning past a guard who tried to stop her. There was no point in following this line of thought. The Bowblade was sitting idle in the Workshop. It would take too much time to go and retrieve it. The enemy would be long gone by the time she returned. If only there was...
Her eyes narrowed as she remembered the times the Messengers had appeared to give her what she required. She didn't even vocalize her intent yet they knew exactly what she required at the time. And Eve had said she was now the Master of the Dream. Wouldn't it stand to reason that she could call the Messengers to give her equipment?
The city wall coming into view made the Huntress increase her speed while resolving to act on the idea. It was the only she had and she was running out of time. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and thought back to the time she was searching for the books in the Workshop. She called directly for the Messengers to bring her Simon's Bowblade, forming a mental image of the weapon as she did. She didn't open her eyes until she heard the faint chime of a bell in her ears.
Her eyes shot open as she instinctively bent low to the right. She felt a handle slam into her hand and gripped it tight. With nary a pause, she lifted the weapon, moved it into her left hand, snapped it into its bow form, and skidded to a stop in the middle of the road. She quickly dashed into the shadow of a building while reaching her right hand into the bag of Quicksilver Bullets at her hip. She pulled out the first arrow (she still did not understand how that worked) she felt out, nocked it to the bow, lead her target and fired.
Her first shot went wide. It passed well in front of the enemy, flying harmlessly into the orange sky. However, while it may have missed its intended target, it did have some use.
It made the target pause in the air for a few brief moments.
That was all the Huntress needed to line up a good shot. She slowed her breathing, sighted the enemy down, drew her arrow back until she could feel the tension in the string, then let fly.
It hit with enough force to send them into a falling spin. The Huntress quickly snapped her bow closed, watching as the now wounded enemy passed beyond the city walls. She groaned while jogging towards the gate. At the very least, she managed to take them down before they could get too far. Not to mention they'll be bleeding by the time she exits the city, leaving a fine trail for the Huntress to follow.
There were plenty of questions she needed answers for. Answers she was sure whoever her enemy was would have.
----------------------------------------
Jessica had experienced many emotions in her time. As a Cupid molded by the Goddess Of Love, it brought her an indescribable amount of joy to see her arrows spread love throughout the world. Whether that be helping two nervous lovers finally be honest with their feelings, or ensuring that lonely bachelors find their perfect wife. Watching as the world was filled with love made her own passions soar, though few could see it through the stony attitude she constantly put up.
So when Eros personally tasked her with helping this cold woman release the burning passion hidden within her, she accepted without fail. She could not wait to experience the feeling of helping another be honest with herself once more.
She never expected to watch someone pull her arrow out of their body.
Nor did she expect to be chased through the city by the very person she shot.
Now as she sat crying in a ditch behind a couple of bushes, blood dripping from the arrow embedded in her left shoulder as the sound of footsteps drew closer and closer, she experienced two new emotions.
Fear and pain.
She tried to steady her breathing while moving her right hand to the shaft of the arrow. She grasped it, sending a sudden shock of pain through her body. She yelped while letting the protruding projectile go, sobbing as her left arm lay limp on the ground. The footsteps from above the ditch were getting closer. Her eyes fell on small pools of blood forming beneath her injury, causing her body to stiffen in terror. Horrible fantasies of what that woman would do to her if she were caught made her breathing speed up.
Her hand slams down on the shaft in a panic. Ignoring the pain shooting through her body she put as much pressure on the arrow as she could. She cried out in pain when it snapped in half but quickly moved her hand to the tip protruding out her back. She dropped to the ground as it wetly slips out of her shoulder.
Precious moments are spent pushing herself to her feet and trying to power through the pain as blood leaked from her open wound. She gave her white wings a test flap and winced at the pain from her upper left one. The moment she took a step forward, another arrow pierced the ground inches in front of her right foot.
"Don't move."
A cold shiver ran down Jessica's spine. Her body shook uncontrollably in fear as she tried to obey the words of the woman she shot. She kept her head down, focusing her gaze on the birch white arrow embedded in the grass in front of her.
Her captor's footsteps got closer and closer until she could feel the point of an arrow poking her in the back. Jessica's body went rigid as tears began to roll down her face alongside her makeup. Her target spoke again in a clipped, calculating tone, "Turn around. Slowly."
Jessica, bereft of any other options, obeyed the woman's words. She carefully shuffled her feet to face her black-clothed captor. The cupid tried to get a bead on the woman's current emotional state, but despite their proximity, she kept coming up blank. She could make out surface-level emotions such as frustration, anger, and suspicion, but nothing beyond that. Curiosity at the enigma that was her target filled her mind.
That curiosity died the moment she came face to the face with her target.
For the time when her eyes met those of the strange woman's, was the first time she regretted being a servant of the Goddess.
Terrifying images forcefully imposed themselves upon the cupid's mind. Her hands went to her head involuntarily as she was assaulted with a deluge of horrifying images.
Of terrifying monsters with wicked claws that dripped blood.
Of men and women driven mad, bathing in puddles of their own blood and refuse.
Of giant, monstrous things clinging to buildings with millions of eyes pulsating in on their heads.
And blood. So much blood. Enough blood to drown the world twice over, with disembodied limbs bobbing up and down in the thick liquid.
But the worst of the vile images was the giant, black void that threatened to consume anything that got near save a single moon the color of blood gone pale. It floated lazily right in front of her eyes. It pulsed in a slow, steady rhythm that seemed to match up with her heartbeat. It had no eyes yet she could tell it was watching. Watching her. Watching the world. And waiting for the day it would be set free.
And when that day came, it would devour everyone.
The feeling of something warm flowing down her head brought Jessica to her senses. The cupid quickly brought her hands up to her eyes. Blood and pink hair follicles clung to her skin in red clumps.
Stolen story; please report.
Her breathing increased to the point of hyperventilation. Her hands went back to her head as she opened her mouth to scream.
Her outburst was cut short by an arrow piercing her right foot.
"Be silent," the sheer menace in the woman's voice was enough to silence the cupid. The messenger did her best to avert her gaze, but the black-clothed mortal gripped her chin with her now free left hand and lifted her face to eye level.
The human stared the cupid down as the Mamono began to whimper in terror. Then, after what felt like an eternity, the woman spoke with a sigh, "I can see it now. You have beheld something you were never meant to see. Hmm, I have a proposition."
The human let the cupid's chin go as she continued, "I have many questions for you, least of which being the reason behind your assassination attempt. If you answer them truthfully, then I swear I will cure you of the madness that threatens your sanity. What say you?"
Under any other circumstance, Jessica would've taken offense to being called an assassin or even the mere accusation of attempting to kill someone.
But at the moment, all she cared about was stopping the images that were replaying over and over in her head.
With little hesitation and a smile on her face, the cupid nodded to the woman's suggestion.
The two of them talked until the sun was setting in the horizon with the shadows of the trees stretching out along the forest floor. But while two of them had entered the forest, only the black-clothed Huntress had left it.
When Banshees came to the ditch to sing for the departed messenger of love, they found her corpse riddled with no less than twenty-three arrows and her face contorted in a permanent smile.
----------------------------------------
"Are you doing ok, Horace?"
Horace looked up from the statue of a praying knight in his hand at the smiling face of Maggie. He felt his cheeks heat up and shoved the tiny figurine into the pocket of his new pants, "Y-yeah. I'm...I'm fine."
Maggie smiled while turning her attention to the boy's sister, "And what about you, Gloria? How are you feeling?"
The girl didn't respond, tightening her grip on her brother's left arm while averting her eyes from the older girl. Horace whispered something to his sister that made the young girl shake her head in disagreement. Maggie's smile faded as her mind wondered why the girl was so cold to her. The three heard Nick curse as the third rock he had searched in front of Lady Cynthia's Manor turned up empty.
Maggie bit her bottom lip as her eyes examined the immaculate stone building. The two windows felt like eyes, judging them for daring to get close to its spotless visage. Sweat dripped down her back as she coughed into her hand before calling out to her brother, "Do you need help?"
"No, Maggs, I got this," Nick assured her after throwing down his fourth rock, "Probably should've asked the Lady to specify which rock the key was under."
"But what about Marcus?" Maggie looked back the way they came with worry in her heart, "It'll be dark soon."
"Don't worry about him. Besides I already thought of that," Nick shook his head and placed another rock down on the flower-covered lawn, "You stay here and watch the kids, while I head back and hold down the fort. Simple."
"Well, yeah you're right," Maggie silently berated herself. She wasn't usually this nervous. Was it something about the manor? Or what Nick said Ms. Cynthia had done? Her original impression of the older woman had certainly been disproved during their second meeting. But...something just didn't sit right with her. And she couldn't tell what it was.
She shook her head to clear it and turned her attention back to Horace, who was studying her statue again. She knelt to be eye level with him and pointed at the wooden knight, "Do you like it?"
"Uh, yeah," Horace nodded while holding the knight up to the setting sun, "It looks cool. And Ms. Cynthia gave it to me."
Maggie nodded then pointed at the statue, "You know, I made that."
"Really?!" Horace looked at her, this time with an excited glint in his eye that made Maggie swell with pride. She noticed Gloria take out her own statue, this one of him standing tall with his weathered armor.
Maggie giggled, "Yep. With my own two hands. That one took me a good three hours to finish."
Horace's mouth gaped as he looked at the figure in his hand in a new light. He turned to the young woman and fiercely nodded, "They're...really cool. Thank you for making them."
Maggie's smile grew wider. She reached out and rubbed the young boy's head, ignoring the sudden glare Gloria sent her way.
"Found it!" she shot up at the sound of Nick's voice. Her brother held up a small key in one hand while letting a rock drop from his other. He laughed in triumph before walking towards the front door. Maggie led the children up to the manor as her brother opened the door. He shut the door behind them as the sun finally dipped under the horizon.
Maggie quickly asked the children to show her their rooms, running after them as they went upstairs. She started back down once they were put to bed, but stopped at the top step. She glanced over her shoulder at the door across from Horace's room. She found her gaze glued to it as her thoughts turned to Marcus. She could see him walking out of the room with clean clothes on, his hair straight and free of grime, as she started running through the halls with Gloria and Horace. Maybe if she asked, Lady Cynthia could...
She lightly slapped herself out of her fantasies. Who did she think she was?! As kind as she was, Lady Cynthia was still a noble. There was certainly a limit to her generosity, and she did not want to be the one to make her reach it.
The young girl sighed and walked down the steps her heart heavy. She found her brother in the living room sitting in one of the flawless, floral pattern chairs. She frowned, coughing into her hand from the hallway to catch his attention. He quickly got out of the chair and stretched, watching his sister glare at him out of the corner of his eye. He chuckled before walking towards her with both hands in his pockets, "Just checking the place out. Pretty good, but that's expected of a noble, eh?"
"Yes," Maggie crossed her arms with indignation written all over her face, "And I don't think she'd appreciate you getting dirt and filth all over them."
Nick patted his sister's shoulder as he stepped passed her, "Come on, Maggs! You know I made sure to wash up before we left today. I'm probably the cleanest man in the slums right now."
Maggie rolled her eyes as he stepped to the door, grabbed the handle, then turned to give her a grin, "Welp, I'll leave watching the little scamps to you. Make sure you don't spoil 'em like you do Marcus."
"I do not spoil him!" the pout that came over Maggie's face made Nick's grin widen until it reached his ears. He chuckled as he opened the door...and comes face to face with women he had never seen before.
"Pardon us, young man," the raven-haired girl on his left said as she invaded Nick's personal space and pulled his arm in between her D-Cup breast, "But would it be ok for us to take up a little bit of your time?"
Before he could answer, another black haired girl did the same with his right arm, but this time leaning way to close to his ear, "We're lost and could really use a place to stay for the night. Certainly, you wouldn't mind if we stayed here until the morning? Just you and us?"
Nick tried to think up a way to tell them no without sounding too harsh, but couldn't get the words to come to him. Something about the way their plump pink lips smiled at him, their soft breast pressed against his chest, and their full dresses hugged their bodies just enough to show off their figures stopped any reply he could make.
And, despite her smoldering glare, he felt the same way about the third girl.
He nervously chuckled and said while trying to hide the growing problem in his pants by shifting his stance, "Well, I don't see why not, ladies. I'm sure my mistress wouldn't mind..."
----------------------------------------
"...What happened to me?"
The Huntress leaned against a random building, thankful that her clothing let her blend in with the darkness of the night. Her breathing was heavy, her skin felt clammy, and she could hardly see straight. She placed her back up against the building's wall and let herself slide down. She kept a firm grip on the Bowblade, but let the arrow slip out of her hand. A tightness gripped her chest as she tried to steady her breathing and heartbeat.
Her mind raced to reconstruct the events that transpired when she found her quarry. She followed the blood trail to a ditch within a small forest and found the winged Mamono just as she removed the arrow from her shoulder. She had knocked an arrow, walked into the ditch, and told the monster to turn around.
The moment their eyes met, the Huntress knew something was wrong.
The Mamono started to hyperventilate, her body shook with fear, and her hands gripped her head hard enough to draw blood from the scalp. Her eyes started to dart from side to side, looking well beyond the Huntress at something only she could see. Her mouth changed from agape in shock, to horror, to a perverse and disturbing smile that went from ear to ear.
The Huntress had seen it before.
The monster had seen something she was never meant to see.
The secrets of Yharnam.
The ones she was desperate to keep hidden.
That is why she had to die. The Huntress would've let her go once her questions were answered. Even if it was an assassination attempt, she had sworn to be less heavy-handed when it came to the use of violence. She would try to solve the problem with her words before she used her blade.
But this was different.
Any knowledge of her world had to be kept away from this one at all costs. She resolved herself then and there to end the life of the Mamono. Both to keep the world safe, and save the poor monster from the nightmares she was no doubt experiencing.
The Huntress made sure to get her answers first, but there wasn't much she could get out of the monster. The Mamono, a cupid, was a messenger of the Goddess Of Love, Eros. She had been sent to "show her the importance of love", which the Huntress translated as "brainwash her into compliance". She had been specifically aiming for the Huntress which eased some of her worries and anger. The Gods could whoever send they wanted at her, but if they went after the children then the gloves would be off.
Other than that she merely asked the cupid to describe the visions she was having. When she was done the Huntress prepared to deliver on her promise.
But...that's where her memory stops.
Her mind goes blank the moment she's about to end the cupid's life. Next thing she knew, the cupid was on the ground dead and riddled with arrows.
What could've happened? She'd never blacked out like that before, and she knew it hadn't slipped loose. Then...what was it?
What had she done?
The implications of the lapse in memory plagued her long after she had caught her breath, and walked the whole way home. The moon's light was muffled by thick black clouds encroaching from the east. A distant rumble hinted at the storm coming towards Pran. The Huntress' brief thought of getting Horace and Gloria something to protect them from the rain evaporated when she spotted a light coming from the living room. She raised an eyebrow, walked to the door, and placed her ear against the wood.
Unfamiliar giggles reached her ears. Narrowing her eyes she slowly pushed the door open, careful to ensure the hinges didn't squeak and announce her presence. She stepped lightly into the house, and carefully rounded the corner to the living room.
There she spotted something that made her eyes widen in shock.
Nick sat on the sofa with his arm around a strange woman who was massaging his chest.
Maggie was in a chair moaning as one of her breasts was groped by another woman.
And one more stranger was standing off to the side near the window, a frown on her face as she watched the actions unfurling in front of her.
But the thought of strangers being in her house wasn't what shocked the Huntress.
It was the fact that at least two of them were clearly Mamono. Yet the two humans didn't seem to notice, nor care.
The Huntress stood there for a good a minute before the five occupants realized she was there.
The moment they did, the woman massaging Nick screamed in absolute terror.