LOUISIANA, 1895
Whether it be the effect of the merging of hunters and the other side, a curse by a higher power, or perhaps something entirely different, all hunters eventually reach this point in their careers.
Damnation.
And, to restore their waning humanity, cleanse this repulsive darkness from their souls, and avoid a fate worse than death, they seek out rifts and wellsprings, which boom with exceptionally pure energy that will save them from losing themselves to the corruption that plagued the bayou.
I am one such Damned.
As the final cartridge loaded into the cylinder, my thumb quickly closed the latch and cocked the revolver's hammer back, ready to fire with a squeeze.
My eyes fell onto the limp corpse of the fellow damned who tried to take my life. Honestly? I don't blame him or his actions, for all hunters going through damnation know too well the meaning of the appearance of a wellspring in the bayou.
Looking to the right of the body, I bend over to pick up his shotgun. Although I was not well versed in simple break-action shotguns, I needed every advantage I could muster. even if pistols always served me better.
After burning the body with a nearby lantern, my hand loaded a new shell as I walked off toward the wellspring, gunshots ringing in the distance.
~<⁕>~
Making my way through the muted fog of the bayou, my feet trudged through the mud and blood of hundreds. The shrubbery brushed through the flaps of the tattered beige vest and leather rigging that clung to my body and my long blue sleeves, which shielded my arms from any mosquito bites.
However, going through dense shrubbery was a good way to draw unwanted attention, which caused me to hurry across a road into a nearby treeline to avoid exposing myself out in the open or to the many living dead.
My body tenses at the sounds of gunfire to my left. Raising my shotgun, I pulled my blue and white patterned bandana up over my nose.
After a while, a wail of pain rang through the clearing. It seems the fight has been won and lost.
With my gun raised, I watch the winner of the battle hastily rummage through the corpse of his fellow hunter, desperate to find any tool or consumable to aid him in the battle of the wellspring—a slight advantage.
Anything.
This sudden tunnel vision proves detrimental, as he is dulled and unaware of my existence and the subsequent roar of fourteen pellets splattering his chest and head, killing him instantly.
...
After making sure nobody was near, I burn the bodies and move past the clearing, leaning against a tree for cover.
Quietly, I pull out and unfold a map from one of the pouches attached to my rigging.
I scan my eyes over the numerous locations where the wellspring could possibly be after absorbing rifts.
But as I'm crossing out locations, I suddenly feel a lurching pull slightly to the right. Shit, that's bad. The wellspring's been fully activated, and someone is currently contesting for its energy.
This, however, comes with its pros.
I put my arms out and closed my eyes.
And when they opened, instead of the dense forests of the Louisiana Bayou, I found myself in the middle of an abyssal drifting storm of leaves and ashes. The muted colours of the plagued land turned to grayscale, and my hands' light yet dirty skin paled as the shadows around it deepened.
Allowing hunters to track otherworldly energy, Dark Sight allowed bounty hunters to search for fissures to narrow down their targets, while the damned searched for rifts and the wellspring to rid their bodies of the negative energy that has accumulated over a hunter's repeated interactions with the bayou.
I remember seeing the message boards: "Cancer-like tumours forming underneath their skin as they turned unnaturally pale, the smell of decay saturating them to their core." "An absence of human emotion and mannerisms, their mind slowly being taken away."
And my soul... whether it exists or not, I can feel the darkness eating away at something.
This must not happen.
My gaze was drawn to the sky, where a continuously arcing beam of energy resembling thunder revealed the location of the source of their position.
Based on the distance of the lightning and my previous map, the wellspring could only be in one location.
I let out a sigh, steeling myself as I walked toward the compound.
~<⁕>~
Eventually, I come across the compound's small side entrance. The main entrance was to the left of the hole, with two massive wood rolling gates that surely made a lot of noise when opened, and a curved sign at the top that read SALTERS PORK.
When I neared the hole, that was when the sounds of another gunfight broke out. Judging by the gunshots, at least three different guns were being fired in quick succession, so that meant three people were all shooting at each other in a tight barn.
And all I had was a shotgun and a pistol.
Perfect.
Looking up, I see the various flashes of light that emitted through the cracks of the metal roof as the gunfight went on.
Now that I think about it, the proper course of action here would be to wait for them to take each other out before moving in, but there is still the problem of other damned hunters arriving and joining the fray soon.
From the stories I've heard, the wellspring was always a battleground. With only enough energy to save a single soul and due to its volatility, its integrity gradually deteriorates with each second it is open, jeopardising one's chances of survival.
"AHH! Ugh..." A hunter wails as their body crumples down the stairs, dying in the process.
I make an effort to avoid the many broken glass bottles that sit just in front of the wall. They were just waiting for someone to make a mistake and reveal their location.
Stepping up to the barn, I slowly creaked the door open, and like a snake, the barrel of my gun searched for its prey with a deadly bite.
...
There is no one hiding on the first floor, which is a good thing.
Moving towards the stairs, I spot the still-warm corpse of the hunter that cried out before.
And judging by his bright and clean outfit, he was only a fresh and inexperienced hunter, a "white shirt," as many would say.
I started walking up the stairs, not bothering to sneak because the gunfight would mask my footsteps. I'm eventually at the top—
"AHH-!" Oh, Shit!
I immediately aim in the direction of the scream, firing in panic as a corpse crashes into me.
"Gah! Fuck—Fuck you! This energy's mine!" By a stroke of luck, a few pellets managed to hit... someone, but it wasn't enough to kill them.
Shoving the body off of me, I pull out my pistol and blind fire over the edge of the stairs.
"Eaghh! My eyes—Oh my god, my eyes! AHH-!" The man's screaming is silenced by another shot from my gun, taking a generous chunk of grey matter with it. Curiously, the sound of a window breaking follows soon after several messy footsteps.
As I slowly rise, I notice a lever-action gun on the ground with its scope shattered; it seems I got a lucky shot on it—why was he using a rifle with a scope indoors? Granted, he killed at least one person with it, and in such close quarters, there really isn't a reason to aim.
Shit... I just realised how much blood is smeared and splattered everywhere. It must have been difficult...
The wellspring's energy didn't shift over to me! The carrier's still alive—
And before I knew it, I was on the floor, writhing and screaming in pain as my leg from the knee down was shot off, blood spurting everywhere, painting the floorboards with a fresh coat.
"Hehe... always works." My body stiffens up as I hear a muffled voice coming from behind me, likely due to my newly acquired deafness.
Above me was a dark-hooded figure, and in his arms was a Nitro Express rifle.
"The truth is, partner." The figure mocked as he loaded in two new rounds. Despite my screaming, I'm somehow thinking straight.
"You should've checked your corners."
The last thing I saw was the muzzle flash of an enormous bullet that could take down an elephant, obliterating my skull, followed by darkness.