Surgit was pissed so he started scanning his surroundings in order to plot a way out. Back in the days when he was at the military school, Surgit developed a habit of reading fantastic stories where the characters could use some kind of psychic power to get a sense of their surroundings and detect signs of life around them. He loved to fantasize about having special powers. He used to imagine what he could have done if he was in the characters’ shoes. That was his way of spending most of the cold snowy days, stationed on a far-away watch tower no one ever came next to.
He wondered if his insight could give him the same kind of abilities. Surgit decided to give it a shot. He closed his eyes and used his insight. He didn’t want to be surprised by any enemy on his way down. Fighting something while bullets rained his way was out of the question. He could only see darkness, it either didn’t work that way or he didn’t know how to use the ability.
Another idea suddenly hit him. Gatling guns always overheat and need some cool down time before they could be used again. Surgit then ran out from behind the statues he was using as cover and triggered the man to shoot him. He immediately slid behind another statue and waited for the bullets to stop. Chunks of rock rained down on him as the impact of the projectiles destroyed the sculptures.
As soon as the bullets stopped, Surgit emerged from behind the statue and ran towards the street that led down to his objective: what he assumed was the city center. He started his descent and saw that the street was filled on both ends with different old carts, parked on the sides; A nice coincidence that provided him with cover from the Gatling gun’s continuous storm of bullets. The street led down towards a broken bridge though. ‘I guess I can’t be this lucky’ thought Surgit as he hid behind one of the carts which almost succumbed to the successive shots. He needed to move fast before he got killed. He saw an open door towards a building, and against his will he went inside. ‘This old man must have sharp eyes. Being able to spot me from that distance…’
Once inside the building, the shots stopped and silence ensued. Surgit enjoyed silence for the first time since he arrived to Old Yharnam. It was a sign that danger had subsided. He took a look around and saw that the building had stairs that could lead him down towards another lower floor. He went down and found himself in an old flat. The only furniture that remained was a big wooden chair and a dusty fireplace.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
On the chair sat what appeared to be a gigantic lady. The lady was fully clothed in a beige robe, veiled with her face hidden. She was bigger than the one he had encountered in the square above. She stood up and Surgit saw her eyes glowing red through the thick veil. It was no normal enemy. She jumped at him, trying to grab him. Surgit jumped high in order to land behind her and surprise her with a backstabbing attack.
In the heat of the moment, he didn’t take into consideration his enemy’s height and the room he was in. He slammed his back against the ceiling and fell down flat on his stomach. ‘What a stupid person I am…’ He thought as he struggled to stand up and regain his posture. ‘The fool recognizes his foolishness,’ whispered the echoes. ‘Perhaps he’s getting wiser…’ whispered another. ‘Oh shush! When did wise men ever slam their backs on a roof?’ answered another to which the echoes seemed to unanimously agree. Surgit had had enough of their live commentary on his mistakes. He had to find a way to shut them up.
He tried to get up but his movement was hindered by a foreign body grabbing him. He felt a hand grab him from his leg and soon after, he was dangling upside down. The veiled creature was holding him from one of his legs and inspecting the stranger that had just barged in. He tried to take his pistol in order to shoot her but she anticipated his move and slapped it away from his hand. She knew that he was hostile then and she prepared to punish him.
A punch to the stomach with her free hand sent sparkles of electricity around all of his body. These creatures were strong, too strong. Another punch and Surgit let out a terrible scream. Despite his strength and vitality, the creature could still damage him. But she wasn’t satisfied with just a scream. She slammed him on the floor twice, as if she was removing dust from an old carpet. Moving while dangling upside down was an arduous task. Surgit tried to swing his cleaver at the woman but his swings were too wide. For every attempt, he got a punch to the head. Three hits were enough to make him lose the will to fight back.
He felt dizzy and blood started pouring out of his nostrils and ears. He knew that another hit would mean that he’d lose consciousness, but the hit didn’t come. Instead, the woman used her claws to tear his garb open and cut his exposed chest. Three vertically aligned cuts were performed in the slowest fashion possible. Surgit felt sick and he lost his voice. He couldn’t scream anymore and the woman finally let him down.
She sat back down on the chair and watched as he struggled to stand up again. His knees shook and his vision was blurred. He started vomiting and blood rushed out of his mouth. He was surprised at the amount of blood he still had in him. He started feeling numb and his eyes slowly closed down. ‘I guess the bitch poisoned me…’