Nightmare's End

Present: The Wrath of False Faith

The faint crackle of fire was audible even from the gate, and embers floated briskly through the air like a light snow, though their kiss wasn't quite so pleasant. Each footstep was accompanied by the unnerving and sticky sound of blood. The mood shifted as quickly as the hunters had shifted their weight, their faces more grim than before. Stephetheon prayed in his mind to the Great Ones, hoping that the outcome of this battle would be at least bearable. Hope seemed to be all he had, even standing next to Maria.

The three mighty hunters made their way up the long stairway. When they reached the top, there he was; prey that wasn't prey, priest that was damned, beast that wore flame. Laurence, the First Vicar, turned into a beast, burned in the waking world. Wreathed in raging fire, he was, proving himself a tenacious paradox of the very basic principles of Yharnam. The hunt would soon commence.

"We should assume fire will be of little use here," Wolfgore said, for once without a smile. The shadow cast upon his face appeared as a mask of death. He hefted his Whirligig onto his shoulder and took the first steps. The others followed.

"I believe that he will only awaken if the pendant is presented," Maria informed her companions. The Eye Pendant was one of the few boons passed along the line of Vicars, but it wasn't as pure a symbol as the Gold Medallion. It represented the cruelty of the Church, rather than the wisdom of Willem. Had Laurence heeded Willem's words, the sacred adage, he would have died human...

"Who will enter?" Maria inquired, shifting her weight," Only one can enter at first, so I would suggest whoever has the fastest reaction time should begin." That ruled out Wolf, they all knew that. "This is my hunt, so perhaps I should enter."

"No, none of this would have happened if I had not come to the Nightmare, and I can still dream," Stephetheon explained. "If I die in there, at least I can come back."

After a few moments of hesitation, Maria conceded. "Very well, we will hang back for a few seconds after the battle begins, so we can prepare from there. Then, we will join you." Maria handed Stephetheon the pendant, her hands lingering for just a moment on his, and retracted from him.

"Good luck, Apprentice." Wolfgore clasped him on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Master. May the good blood guide your ways, both of you." Stephetheon pulled Wolf into a light embrace, much like a child saying farewell to a dying loved one. With that, and a bow to the pale lady, Stephetheon made his way up the great steps.

***

The sounds of fire were far louder at the top, Steph noted. He felt as though he stood before a massive bonfire. He continued toward the terrible beast, taking steps as light as feathers. At last, he stood before the altar, Laurence's giant left hand just a few feet from him. He drew the pendant from his satchel and placed it in the beast's claws, and leapt back, raising his serrated weapon.

First it was only his fingers, but after a few seconds his entire body was literally sparking to life. With what seemed like immense effort, Laurence heaved himself off of the altar, favoring his head with his right arm. Looking between his fingers, he took in the sight of Stephetheon, who apprehensively stepped back. Laurence put out his hand as if to shield himself from the hunter. Suddenly, he drove his fist into the ground, shattering the pendant and throwing Stephetheon back with a wave of flames.

Steph rolled back and leapt to his feet, hissing from the pain. The landing had hurt more. He had to survive just thirty seconds of his full attention, then his allies would come in, and then this would be easy. He dashed forward, rolling between his legs as he repeated the punching attack. From there, a few good slices at his legs would be simple, except just as Steph went to do so, Laurence violently pulled his fist upward, releasing another wave.

"This again?!" Steph repeated his evasive manuevers and strafed backward, keeping his eyes on the beast. Twenty three more seconds.

Two lighter punches. Steph quickstepped to each side. A two-hand pounding attack. Steph rolled through it, and finally struck a blow. Full in the foe's face, his Saw Spear ripped through the surprisingly tough hide. Laurence coiled back, clutching his face. Steph grinned under his mask. Didn't feel good, did it?

Steph roared ferociously, hacking at the beast's legs. Laurence screamed and backhanded Steph, throwing his away once again, but this time he was ready for it. He regained his balance midroll and sprinted back into range, slicing at the bigger arm. He dashed under a right hand swipe, and ran his weapon over the right leg. He stepped behind Laurence as he made to sweep everything before him with fire. Steph transformed his weapon, ripping through fire-hardened hide. Laurence spun around and raised his left arm to grab him, the shift knocking Steph off his feet. Just as the arm began to fly down to him, however, Wolfgore appeared, latching into the arm with a savage cleave of his Whirligig. The force of the attack pulled Laurence off balance, and Steph wasted no time recovering. Wolf made a recovery attack, turning with it to catch Laurence's leg.

Steph caught the opposite leg, and Laurence fell over. Wolf roared and brought his weapon down on the beast's waist, rending flesh and bone as if it were all fresh bread. The legs and pelvis dissolved into liquid fire, and Laurence screamed violently in agony. He was far from dead, it would seem.

In an act of blind rage, Laurence swung his left arm at Wolf and threw him back.

"WOLF!" Steph tried to warn his comrade, but he was too late. Laurence had formed a fist with his right hand, and he brought it down as swiftly as he had raised it. Wolf crumpled without a last word under the flaming appendage. Stephetheon watched in horror as he waited for the corpse to dissolve, for the weapon to vanish, yet still they lay. No no no no! Stephetheon screamed his head, but from his mouth came a roar to rival the beast's screams. He ran at his foe and vaulted over him, letting his momentum help his transformed Spear cut open Laurence's shoulders.

Landing beside the Whirligig, Steph switched his Spear to his left hand and grasped the heavy weapon in his right. He spun and ripped off Laurence's left arm with the Whirligig and stuck the Spear deep into the open mound. He vaulted onto his bleeding shoulders, releasing the Spear, and hefted the Whirligig with both hands, priming the spinning blades, and released one final cry of anguish as he brought it down upon the foul beast's twisted head.

***

All throughout the battle, Lady Maria had simply stood at the entrance after passing through, paralyzed by an unfamiliar fear. It was Stephetheon's last cry that broke the spell, but it was too late. Both Wolfgore and Laurence were dead, and Stephetheon was laying in a pool of steaming beast blood. Why couldn't I move?

It did not matter to him, however. When he stood, he glared at her angrily. The left half of his mask had been wrent open, exposing his silver eye to the air. Maria saw in his eye great hatred. A good portion of his attire was burnt badly, and the beast blood was hardening quickly where it had not run off. It encased his left arm in a crimson gauntlet, and clumped a number of his feathers together. A streak of it was drying on the right half of his mask.

"Why didn't you fight?" Stephetheon growled, stumbling toward her. "He didn't have to die. Why didn't you fight?!" Maria turned and ran, wiping tears from her eyes. She was ashamed of what happened.

What a fine hunter I've become...

***

This chapter took a great deal longer for me to get to, so I apologize if the wait was really annoying. I hope everyone had a great Christmas, and hopefully we'll all have a better year. May the good blood guide your ways!