Archive of Our Own

Iosefka is tidying the recently-used bed in the front of her clinic when the first knock sounds.

She approaches the door, hesitant on a night of a hunt, but, surely a beast would not knock so politely. She peers through the partially shattered windows to see a masked figure in a tattered cap. A Hunter. Iosefka relaxes at the sight. Her patients are still safe.

“Are you… out on the hunt?” She asks. “Then, I am very sorry, but I cannot open this door.” She shifts slightly and locks eyes with the Hunter who tilts their head in a silent question. “I am Iosefka. The patients here in my clinic must not be exposed to infection. I know that you hunt for us, for our town but I’m sorry. Please. This is all I can do.”

Iosefka procures a vial of her own blood from the pocket of her dress, and slides it through the window, into the waiting hand of the Hunter. She watches as they fiddle with the vial curiously. Their fascination with it brings a small smile to her lips, even as her gut twists with worry. A Hunter unused to the art of Yharnam’s blood healing will need all the help they can get tonight.

“Now, go. And good hunting.”

The Hunter steps away from her door. Slowly, deliberately, as if hesitant to leave. Iosefka nods in reassurance and watches them retreat down the stairs.

The clinic suddenly feels much lonelier. Iosefka turns away from the door, releasing a sigh. Her patients await her care, as they always do, and she leaves to make her rounds. She checks IVs, soothes worried murmurs, and dresses wounds. Eventually, she sits and draws more of her own blood, in anticipation of the Hunter’s return.

And return they do. Really, it could not have been more than a couple of hours after the first visit, but the harsh orange sunset and constant droning howls drag on her nerves until Iosefka isn’t sure if it has been hours or weeks since she’s locked the doors.

This time, when Iosefka goes to greet the Hunter, she is, herself greeted, by the cloying stench of blood and sewage. Yet, she wouldn’t have gotten far in this profession if she were deterred by a simple odor. So, she welcomes the Hunter with genuine relief.

“Ah, you are safe. Thank goodness. But I’m afraid nothing will change,” she sends a wayward glance over her shoulder, in the direction of her patients, “I cannot open the door. I’ll do what I can, of course. Perhaps this will help you, if only in some small way.”

Same as before, she slides the fresh blood vial through the window. But after accepting the vial, the Hunter does not leave. Instead, they step closer. One hand comes up to press gently against the window, fingers slipping into the many holes in the frame.

Iosefka stifles a chuckle at how… childish the gesture seems. Though most of their face is hidden by the mask, the Hunter’s gaze is soft; innocent in a way that Hunters cannot afford to be.

Do they pity her? Iosefka wonders, or is this their mute way of thanking her? She cannot begin to guess. Either way, they both have jobs to do, and the hunt waits for no one.

“Are you still in need of something?” Iosefka asks. “But I have nothing more to offer. Please, try to understand my position. I can only pray for a fruitful hunt.”

Iosefka tries to push her desperation into her tone. She smiles apologetically, and reaches up, allowing their fingers to brush together before the Hunter withdraws.

And so, Iosefka’s routine repeats. Check up on patients, draw blood, await the Hunter. The howls and groans of the sick, both inside and outside the clinic, do not let up; nor does the sun appear to continue setting. The city is tense, like it’s expecting something. Iosefka feels it too, the horrible dread. And yet, she also feels a different kind of expectancy. Lighter, more… hopeful. It flares in her chest when she hears the knock at the door.

All in all, the Hunter visits her four times. By the fourth visit, Iosefka is drained. She has provided this Hunter with four vials of her blood and she isn’t sure how many more she has in her.

The Hunter’s gaze, while still soft for her, is full of new confidence. There is a subtle finality to this meeting, and as they step away from her window, Iosefka suddenly finds that she does not want them to go. Somehow, she has grown fond of the Hunter’s visits. They are a comfort and a distraction from the horrors of the hunt.

Torn between her selfish desires, and the necessity of letting the Hunter go, she closes her eyes and sighs. “This night is long,” she whispers, “but morning always comes. Someone of your caliber won’t fail us, I am certain.” Iosefka opens her eyes again, trying to match the Hunter’s newfound confidence. “And once the night of the hunt ends, we can speak face-to-face. Then I can finally see what you look like.” She lets out a breathless laugh as the Hunter shuffles abashedly on their feet. “I shouldn’t be thinking this, but I am rather looking forward to it. So please, be careful out there.”

If Iosefka has read things right, and this is the last time the Hunter will visit, then the least she can do is offer hope and a promise that they will meet again.

Once the Hunter has gone, Iosefka returns to her work. Time passes, although the relentless dusk refuses to show it. The only evidence Iosefka has that the world still spins is the fatigue settling into her bones.

After the immediate needs of her patients have been sated, Iosefka allows herself to rest. The Hunter has not returned, and she does not expect they will for a while, so she lets her fatigue pull her into sleep.

Iosefka is rudely awakened by the sound of glass shattering somewhere in the clinic. She bolts upright. Her eyes flick over to her patients, checking for injuries or missing members. Everyone appeared to be accounted for and asleep, with varying degrees of restfulness.

Iosefka takes a deep breath, quelling the spike of anxiety that suddenly floods her system. Just because her patients didn’t cause the noise doesn’t necessarily mean there was a break-in, something could’ve simply fallen over. She grabs a spare scalpel on her way out the door anyway.

The clinic is still bathed in the same orange light, though it seems darker, like the sun was finally giving in to the horizon. Iosefka creeps around hallways she knows by heart, second-guessing every shadow. The scalpel feels like a foreign object in her hand, she is unused to holding the tool in such an aggressive manner. She doesn’t truly believe the little knife will be any use against the beasts that ravage the outside world, but Iosefka is duty-bound to protect her patients, and right now, this is the best she’s got.

The search for the source of the disturbance takes far longer than Iosefka would care to admit, but finally, she stumbles upon a broken window. Glass litters the hallway and Iosefka’s throat runs dry. A long stretch of roof runs out from beyond the window and it isn’t hard to imagine that something had, perhaps, scaled the building and received easy access to the window.

But the area surrounding the window is clean. Iosefka finds no evidence that a beast had broken the window. The shelves and furniture in the hallway remain intact, and there are no visible scratches on the floor or walls. Iosefka dares hope that no creature had intentionally broken her window. Perhaps it was just a stray pebble thrown by a Hunter during a fight, or a foolish thief thinking to find an easy mark during a hunt. Or perhaps Iosefka was just lying to herself, trying not to look for evidence she didn’t want to believe.

Either way, what’s done is done, and Iosefka wasn’t going to find answers by staring. She is about to leave to find something to board up the window with when a distant knock reaches her ears. She freezes.

It couldn’t be… But it sounded so much like…

Iosefka all but runs to the door. Her worry about an intruder fades to the back of her mind when she sees the Hunter outside her door. She opens her mouth to ask why they had returned when, to her surprise, they speak first. She listens in shocked silence as they tell her of the chapel in the Cathedral Ward, and how it had been turned into a sanctuary for survivors.

“Will you go?” They ask softly. The small note of hope in their voice is not lost on Iosefka, but she shakes her head.

“I am sorry, but I cannot leave. My clinic is the safest place for me right now.” The image of broken glass in the hallway flashes in her mind, and she winces at the lie. “And I still have patients in need of care. Trying to transport them across Yharnam would be a death sentence.”

The Hunter sighs but nods. Oh, Iosefka badly wishes she could invite the Hunter inside. Having someone around who knows how to fight would ease her worried mind. But, then again, how many beasts has this Hunter killed? How much tainted blood would they bring in with them? No, she can’t risk it. So, she watches them leave once again.

No sooner had the Hunter disappeared from sight than a tremendous crash shakes Iosefka from her reverie. She wastes no time, rushing to her patients’ room with all the speed she can muster.

A gunshot echoes through the halls, making her flinch. Iosefka doesn't own a gun, she’s never even allowed them inside the clinic. Was there a Hunter here? What were they fighting? She redoubles her pace.

When she at least reaches the door, she bursts into the room, scalpel first, only to find she is too late.

Three of her patients still lie in bed, only they writhe in place. Their veins bulge under their skin, pulsing bright blue. Another patient is slumped against the far wall, blood covers his clothes and trickles out of the vicious slash on his neck. The fifth patient lies face-down on the floor, in a growing pool of blood around her head.

The culprit stands over the body, gun still smoking, and Iosefka reels back. She had been preparing to face an array of enemies, but the possibility of that enemy being herself in the most literal way had not occurred to her.

Iosefka’s imposter, for surely that’s what she is, turns to face her fully. She carries a bloodied cane, and a gun almost comically too large for her hand.

Iosefka throws a hand over her mouth, both to muffle the overpowering smell of blood and to stifle her gasp.

“Oh, hello. There you are,” the imposter laughs, as a maniacal grin spreads across her face. “How good of you to join us.”

“Wh-what have you done?!” Iosefka chokes out.

“Even if I were to explain, you could not comprehend what I am trying to achieve,” the imposter shoots back. “Though, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help me?”

Iosefka’s eyes flick down to the body at their feet and her hand unconsciously tightens around the scalpel. If the imposter notices this, she says nothing. Either way, she takes Iosefka’s silence as an answer.

“No matter, I think you shall be most helpful to me, regardless.” Her shoulders tremble with barely contained glee as she advances.

Iosefka knows she should run. This imposter is far better equipped than she and is almost certainly a better fighter. Yet, Iosefka doesn’t move. Whether it’s fear, an urge to enact vengeance for her patients, or a combination of both, she is rooted to the spot. It isn’t until the imposter pulls a syringe full of silvery-white liquid out of a pocket that Iosefka comes to her senses.

As she turns to run from the room, she hears a metallic clink. Sharp, cold metal wraps itself around her leg and pulls, sending her tumbling to the ground. She loses her scalpel in the fall and desperately kicks out at whatever she can. Her foot connects with something solid and she hears the other woman grunt. The whip loosens around her ankle and Iosefka takes the opportunity to roll to her feet.

Before the imposter can recover, Iosefka is dashing out the door, mind scrambling for solutions. Her first priority, she knows, is escaping. The main door is locked and it would take far too much time to unlock it. Already, she can hear frenzied footsteps behind her as she rushes through the halls.

One advantage Iosefka has here is knowledge of the area, and she is pleasantly surprised to find that she is faster than whatever is wearing her face. She heads for the broken window.

Ironic, that this imposter’s entry will be her emergency exit.

As she runs, she blindly scrambles for supplies. If she is to be stranded in the streets of Yharnam, she’d rather not be empty-handed. She is able to grab precious little, however, as the window looms large and she hurls herself through it without a second thought. She silently thanks the Gods that she never did get around to blocking it up.

Iosefka lands roughly on the roof and only barely manages to catch her balance on the slanted surface. A frustrated shout sounds from behind her, followed by a burst of white light as several balls of white energy blast through the windows after her. Iosefka throws herself to the side, avoiding the worst of the attack. A couple of the projectiles graze her shoulder and calf, burning through her dress to scorch the skin beneath. Still, it could’ve been much worse, and she picks herself back up to keep running.

One heart-pounding sprint through infected streets later, Iosefka finds herself wandering down an alleyway. She clutches her singed shoulder and carries a slight limp, but she’s alive.

Now out of immediate danger, Iosefka presses her back against a wall and slides down, taking inventory of everything she managed to salvage. From her pockets, she pulls a syringe, three empty vials, and a single roll of clean bandages. She rests her head on the wall behind her, letting out a frustrated sigh.

With nothing to soothe her burns, she bandages the wounds, using as little material as she can. Once finished, she tucks her items away again and rests her head in her hands.

If she had just been more prepared; she could’ve done something more, could’ve-

Her thoughts are cut short by a distant clanking noise. It sounded like the heavy footfalls of something wearing a lot of metal, and it was heading her way.

Ignoring the pain in her burned leg, she pushes herself back to her feet. Nowhere was safe in Yharnam anymore. Nowhere except the chapel. The Hunter’s words come back to her in a rush. The little spark of hope flares in her chest again.

Now with a destination in mind, Iosefka steps a bit more confidently back onto the main street. She is halfway down the street when she remembers that the bridge to Cathedral Ward is closed during hunts. Further up the street, Iosefka hears the grating of metal on stone and a gravelly voice muttering about a curse. Something was coming and she wasn’t keen to find out what. Cursing under her breath, she dashes up the stairs to her right.

Eventually, she halts next to a familiar window. The man inside, Gilbert, has been ill for some time now. On normal days, Iosefka would make regular visits to this very house to check up on him and soothe his pain. Even tonight, his dry coughing is audible from down the street.

“Gilbert?” Iosefka whispers, stepping up to the window.

The coughing stops abruptly. “Doctor Iosefka?” Comes the raspy reply. “What are you doing here?”

Iosefka musters a chuckle, though, it is humorless. “That is a story I don’t quite know how to explain… But, I’m off to Oedon Chaple, I hear it's been turned into a sanctuary of sorts.”

Gilbert’s laugh quickly turns into a coughing fit. Once he calms down, he responds, “so, that Hunter came by your place too? Ha… how thoughtful.”

“You are welcome to join me. There is safety in numbers after all.”

Gilbert is quiet for several seconds. Then, he sighs. “Ah… you needn’t concern yourself with me. I’m afraid I’m beyond help now.” He pauses to cough. “I’ll only endanger others if I leave my home.”

A wave of remorse washes over Iosefka. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” she whispers.

A frail hand parts the curtains and reaches out beyond the bars on the window. Iosefka takes it and cradles it between both of her own hands.

“What inflicted me is incurable,” Gilbert begins, “but this town gave me hope. Your strange blood bought me time. What you’ve given me is invaluable, you mustn’t be sorry. Unharmed by the plague of beasts, I can even die human.” The end of his sentence devolves into a series of coughs. He retracts his hand to help stifle the sound.

When the coughing subsides, Iosefka speaks up. “Once this night is over, I promise, I’ll come back. You will not die alone, Gilbert.”

--

Alone again on the streets of Yharnam, Iosefka heads for the aqueduct. With the bridge closed, it's the only open path to the chapel. After her chat with Gilbert, she debates visiting other homes to pick up survivors but ultimately deems it too risky. However, it seems that searching for survivors is unnecessary, as she stumbles upon one all the same.

Iosefka steps off the lift at the foot of a bridge to find a young girl hiding beside the stairs, peering over the railing. She wears a white silk ribbon in her blonde hair. Iosefka recognizes her as the daughter of the Gascoignes’, Evelyn is her name. But what is she doing here? Shouldn’t she be tucked away at home with her mother?

Iosefka makes sure her heels click audibly on the cobblestones as she approaches, so as not to scare the girl. She kneels as Evelyn turns to face her, and is startled to see tears staining her face. Recognition flashes in her eyes, and before Iosefka can so much as breathe, Evelyn nearly bowls Iosefka over with the force of her hug.

Evelyn is inconsolable as she clings to Iosefka like she’s the last person alive in the world. All Iosefka can do is hold her, and offer what comfort she can.

Finally, Evelyn pulls away, leaving Iosefka’s shoulder wet with tears. Iosefka cups her face and helps her wipe her cheeks clean.

“What are you doing out here, child? It’s not safe,” Iosefka says, keeping her voice hushed.

Evelyn’s lip quivers. Instead of answering, she holds out a big red brooch. Iosefka studies it, puzzled. Then, the pieces click in her mind. Evelyn’s mother, Viola, wore this brooch. She hardly ever took it off. And if it’s here, then…

“Ah…” Iosefka takes Evelyn’s hand in her own and gently closes her fingers back over the jewel.

Evelyn sniffles as she clutches the brooch to her chest. “I asked the kind Hunter to look for my mum, and when they came back, they brought this with them and I-”

Iosefka cuts her off by pulling her into another hug. She rubs soothing circles into Evelyn’s back as she begins to hiccup.

“I’m sorry.” Iosefka’s voice cracks as she tries to comfort her.

Her heart aches for this girl, and she wishes she could do more for her. She hugs Evelyn’s small frame tighter. What else could she do? Inexperienced as she was treating as raw a wound as this.

“Come with me to the chapel. You will be safe there.”

Evelyn does not reply, but Iosefka feels her nod into her shoulder.

Iosefka peers over the lip of the bridge and faces their next challenge. A mob of half-transformed townsfolk blocks the end of the bridge. Past them, an ominous-looking ball of twine waits on top of a staircase.

Evelyn tugs on the sleeve of Iosefka’s dress and she crouches back down.

“How are we going to get past them Miss ‘Sefka?” she blurts.

Iosefka brings a finger to her lips to quiet Evelyn. That’s when she notices that the ambient muttering of the mob is beginning to grow closer. She pokes her head up again to see the mob patrolling down the bridge.

She bites her bottom lip, trying to think fast. She doubts they would even make it to the other end if they ran for it. They could take the lift back up to Yharnam proper, but this bridge is the only route to the chapel, to safety. Wracked with indecision, Iosefka watches the mob get ever closer.

She is about to heft Evelyn over her shoulders and book it to the lift when the ball of twine, or whatever it is, bursts into flame. Seconds later, it comes rolling down the stairs, heading straight for the mob. It’s a lopsided thing, poorly constructed out of wood and woven twine. Honestly, it’s a wonder it can even roll, but roll it does.

The mob turns too late and Iosefka dives down, covering the little girl with her body as a wave of heat washes over them. A mighty crash sounds in the sewers below them, signifying the ball’s demise.

Iosefka rises slowly. She checks the bridge again to find it clean. Well, figuratively. There’s a large sooty red stain in the center of it now. Squashed corpses burn around the area and Iosefka covers her nose.

As a doctor, Iosefka was no stranger to gore, but witnessing this type of senseless violence jars her into a state of shock.

A small voice at her side reminds Iosefka to breathe again. “What happened? Is everything all right?”

She quickly wipes the terror off her face and musters a small smile. “Yes…, yes everything is fine.” She kneels to brush the dirt off Evelyn's clothes. “And look, the bridge is clear.”

Iosefka stands, holding out her hand for the little girl to take. Together, they step up to the bridge.

“Have you ever been to the chapel before?” Iosefka asks, more to take Evelyn's attention away from the carnage than anything.

She looks up at Iosefka and shakes her head. “Daddy visits there a lot, but he never takes me with him.”

“Well then,” Iosefka smiles with genuine warmth, “this will be an adventure of sorts, won’t it?” She gives Evelyn’s hand a light squeeze and earns a watery, pained smile. But a smile nonetheless, Iosefka counts it as a win.

At the end of the bridge, they face their final obstacle: a partially transformed man bearing a torch and wooden shield. Behind him, a malformed troll-like man lies, groaning, on the ground. He is covered in nasty burns, presumably from shoving the flaming twine ball. Still alive, but hardly fighting fit.

Iosefka scowls at the still-standing man, now slowly advancing on them. She gently pushes the little girl behind her, untangling their hands.

Without taking her eyes off the beastly man, she whispers, “when I tell you to run, you run.” Evelyn does not respond, and Iosefka hopes she will do as she’s told.

By this point, the man has reached the bottom of the stairs. Without warning, he stumbles forward, shield first, in a sloppy charge. Iosefka steps deftly around to the left. She grabs his arm and uses his momentum to swing him around and send him tumbling to the ground.

She looks back at Evelyn and shouts, “run!”

Thankfully, she does, dashing up the stairs as fast as her small legs will carry her. Iosefka lingers just long enough to snatch the torch out of the man’s fumbling fingers. He snarls in a startlingly inhuman way but is too slow to stop her.

Holding the torch out in front of her, Iosefka backs up the stairs, carefully following Evelyn. The man gets to his feet but, apparently, thinks twice about attacking again, as he just glares at them as they retreat.

Now armed with a torch, Iosefka leads them into the tomb of Oedon. The air here is oppressively still and reeks of death. They hurry through, weaving around the haphazard gravestones. In no time at all, they find themselves opening the door into Oedon Chapel.

Iosefka takes a deep breath of the incense-heavy air and truly relaxes for the first time since she left her clinic. She closes the door behind them as Evelyn begins to cautiously explore the area.

Initially, Iosefka believes they are alone in the chapel until someone clears their throat behind her. She spins on her heels, torch held ready, but sees no one. It takes her a moment to spot the source of the noise, tucked away as he is between vases of incense. Even then, she does a double-take. The figure on the floor wears a tattered red cloak so large, that she took him for a pile of rags at first.

“Oh! Very sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man(?) says, lowering his hands from his face. “I wasn’t sure anyone would actually show up,” he laughs nervously, “but I’m very glad to see you ‘ere!”

Iosefka forces herself to relax again. While his appearance puts her on edge, his demeanor implies that he means no harm.

“Who are you?” She asks, taking a cautious step closer.

“Me?” He almost squeaks the word. “I-I’m no one really, just… well,” he gestures to the building around them, “the Chapel Dweller.”

His voice carries a certain sadness to it. It leads Iosefka to believe that ‘Chapel Dweller’ was an unwanted nickname, yet, he projects it nonetheless.

Something presses up against the back of Iosefka’s leg. She looks down to find Evelyn peering at the Chapel Dweller with sullen curiosity. The Dweller, apparently noticing Evelyn for the first time, perks up.

“Oh!” he says, plainly delighted. “Who are you?”

Now that his attention is directed at her, Evelyn shies away. Only with Iosefka’s gently coaxing does she appear again to mumble her name at him. Iosefka, in turn, introduces herself and listens as the Chapel Dweller recounts his encounter with the Hunter. He explains that he asked the Hunter to seek out any sane survivors in Yharnam and send them to the chapel.

“A-and since you showed up, I’m sure it won’t be long until more follow. At least, I ‘ope so,” he finishes.

Iosefka smiles at him. “If I know our Hunter, this place will soon be full of survivors.”

He brightens at that and gazes around the empty space with wonder. “Now wouldn’t that be somethin’…” Snapping back to himself, he wrings his hands together. “Well, I-in the meantime, please, make yourselves comfortable.”

Iosefka and Evelyn explore the barren church but end up resting against the railing at the top of the stairs. Iosefka makes quiet conversation with the Chapel Dweller as Evelyn curls up against her body and begins to nod off.

Eventually, the room falls silent. Iosefka runs her fingers idly through Evelyn’s hair and wonders when she’ll see the Hunter again.

--

Turns out, she doesn’t have to wait long. Evelyn had only just fallen asleep when Iosefka starts to hear voices beyond the door in front of them. Iosefka and the Chapel Dweller both perk up at the sound. They lock eyes, and then turn their attention to the door.

The heavy doors squeak open to reveal their Hunter. The Hunter lifts their head, notices Iosefka and Evelyn, and audibly gasps. They wave to both Ioseka and the Chapel Dweller, then turn and offer their arm to an elderly woman. The woman takes it, complaining about how long it took them to offer it.

The Hunter catches her eyes as the two of them go past. The old woman continues to spew nonsense about disrespect, failing to notice that the Hunter is no longer paying attention. The Hunter jerks their head toward the old woman and rolls their eyes.

Iosefka doesn’t need to see their whole face to get that message. She chuckles, bringing a hand to her mouth to hide her smile.

Once the old woman deems herself safe, she heckles the Hunter to find her a chair. The Hunter disappears and Iosefka fully expects them to leave it at that, but, to her surprise, they return with a chair. Gods know where they managed to find a chair on a night of the hunt, but there it is.

With the woman finally settled, the Hunter hurries back up the stairs to join Iosefka and the Dweller. Iosefka makes a mental note to visit the old woman once she no longer has a child sleeping on her. The Hunter exchanges a few words with the Dweller, then turns to Iosefka.

“Well, you’ve certainly been busy tonight,” Iosefka states. The Hunter shrugs, shuffling their feet. “In any case,” Iosefka continues in a softer voice, “I’m grateful to finally meet you properly.”

She extends a hand up to the Hunter who shakes it without hesitation. Their grip is gentler than Iosefka expected it to be, and she wonders why that still surprises her.

The Hunter then squats in front of her and nods toward Evelyn. Iosefka unconsciously pulls her closer. Evelyn’s head rests against Iosefka’s collarbone, and the Hunter reaches out to brush a stray piece of hair from the sleeping girl’s face.

“She’s been through so much tonight,” Iosefka murmurs, half to herself.

The Hunter nods in agreement and hands Iosefka a small metal box. Out of curiosity, Iosefka opens it. An eerily soothing melody emanates from within and she quickly shuts it again. Evelyn shifts at the sound of it but doesn’t wake.

“This belongs to her?” The Hunter nods. “Thank you, I’ll return it to her when she wakes.”

The Hunter lingers for a moment. They gaze at Evelyn with so much sorrow that Iosefka can’t help but ponder what they know that she doesn’t. A sigh escapes the Hunter's lips and they stand up again.

“I know you must go,” Iosefka says, “but if there is anything I can do to help, you need only ask. I’ll be here.”

In response, the Hunter places a hand over their heart and bows. Somewhat taken aback by the gesture, Iosefka barely remembers to wave as they leave.

“A kind soul, that one is,” the Dweller pipes up.

“We’re lucky to have them around,” Iosefka agrees.

Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, Iosefka rests her head on the railing behind her. She only intends to rest her eyes for a while, but she finds she doesn’t have the willpower to fight off sleep when it comes for her.

Iosefka wakes to the sound of… laughter? She comes to herself slowly, groaning as the strain from the night so far catches up to her again. When she opens her eyes, she is greeted by a strange sight.

Evelyn is laying on her back next to the Chapel Dweller. Her hands are in the air, ineffectually grabbing at smoke from the incense sticks that the Dweller is waving around above her head. The Dweller gently boops her nose with a stick and Evelyn goes cross-eyed trying to follow the movement. Their joy fills the air of the chapel. It feels out of place but is all the more valuable for it.

Iosefka moves to join them but her leg bumps something next to her. She looks down to see Evelyn’s music box. She takes the box in her hands. Evelyn giggles again and Iosefka pauses to watch her. It was good to see her smile and hear her laugh. She deserved to hold on to that joy for as long as she could.

Iosefka pockets the box and stands up, stretching. She leaves Evelyn in the Dweller’s care and wanders over to the elderly woman.

“I wish those two would stop wasting the incense,” the woman mutters as Iosefka approaches.

Iosefka isn’t quite sure if the comment was directed at her, but she responds anyway. “As long as the incense is burning, it will ward off the beasts,” she explains. “They are no more misusing incense than you are misusing that chair.”

At this, the woman turns to face her properly. “Yeah? And who might you be?”

“I am Iosefka, I run-” she cuts herself off, and pauses to take a steadying breath, “I ran a clinic in Central Yharnam.”

“Oh, the doctor, yes I’ve heard of you,” she says. For a moment, Iosefka is worried that she might be about to take a verbal beating for no discernable reason. Then, the woman softens. “You’ve done good work for Yharnam.” Iosefka relaxes. “Though, I’ve no need of your talents. Fit as a fiddle I am.”

“I’m glad to hear it. But, please, don’t hesitate to call upon me if something does happen.” The woman nods and, assuming that to be the end of the conversation, Iosefka turns to leave.

“I’m grateful to have someone like yourself around,” the woman continues. “Finally someone’s useful around here. Unlike that outsider.” She spits the last word with so much venom it may as well have been poison.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?” Iosefka frowns at the woman’s sudden scowl. “They hunt for the sake of our town.”

“Well, they’re doing a bloody fine job of it!” She gestures wildly to the exit behind her. “Just look at the state of the place.” Iosefka stands in shocked silence until the woman calms down. “Sorry dear, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

Iosefka steps closer and places a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. “It’s alright. This night is taking a toll on all of us.”

The woman lets out a shaky sigh but says nothing more. Before Iosefka climbs the stairs again, she chances a look out of one of the open entrances. She is surprised to discover that the sun had finally set. How had she not noticed earlier?

Morbid curiosity draws her towards the side entrance of the chapel. The night is quiet and she risks stepping down into the courtyard below. The area is a mess of overturned carts and cluttered graves, but Iosefka finds peace in gazing up at the heavens.

The clink and rattle of chains alert her to the approaching presence of a church giant. She freezes as she watches the enormous creature lumber down the distant staircase. Once it disappears beyond the open portcullis she relaxes, but before she looks away, her eyes catch a flash of movement on the stairs.

Squinting, she makes out a grey blur heading her way. It’s followed by a figure in red. Her first instinct is to run. Run back into the chapel, away from whatever threat is headed her way. But then the figures come properly into view and, oh, Iosefka would recognize that tattered cap anywhere.

The Hunter leads a woman in a red dress into the courtyard where they stop to rest. Iosefka throws them a wave and decides that she’s come this far out, she may as well go and meet them.

The woman in red is doubled over, catching her breath. She straightens slowly, and Iosefka is just close enough to hear her speak.

“Well, that was exciting,” the woman says to the Hunter. “Let’s never do it again.” The Hunter lets out a soft laugh in response and nods in agreement.

The woman then turns to Iosefka and greets her with a lovely smile. “Oh, hello there. I take it you are another survivor?”

Iosefka sighs, mustering a tired grin, she responds. “It is unfortunate that we must call ourselves that but, yes. I am Iosefka.”

The woman steps forward and extends her hand. “Arianna. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The two of them shake hands. The hunter awkwardly shifts their stance in the background. The rattling chains of the church giant sound in the distance and Arianna casts a nervous glance over her shoulder. “I hate to cut introductions short, but do you think we could continue this… inside?”

The three of them don’t hesitate to hurry inside the chapel. The old woman gives the Hunter an icy glare, but she thankfully keeps her mouth shut. Iosefka and the Hunter climb the short set of stairs while Arianna takes her time looking for a comfortable spot.

The Dweller and Evelyn are no longer playing with the incense, but Evelyn is still on her back. Warmth blooms in Iosefka’s chest to see Evelyn so content. The Dweller beckons Iosefka over, so she re-joins the two of them. She sits by Evelyn, propping the girl’s head upon her lap so she can once again run her fingers through the blonde locks.

The Hunter follows behind her, and the Dweller perks up as they come near. “Ahh, the ‘unter! Alive and well are ya? I see you’ve brought another one along with you,” he gestures to Arianna who is now attempting to converse with the old woman. “I really must thank you, although, I do hope she offers more in the way of conversation than that old girl does.” He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “A bit prickly, that one.”

Evelyn giggles and the Hunter has the good sense to look abashed. They rub the back of their head with a hand.

“Still,” the Dweller continues, “I’d rather see ‘er alive anyhow.”

The Hunter gives him a curt nod and turns away. Arianna, presumably having given up on conversation, has made it to the top of the stairs. She tilts her head at an empty space to the right of the staircase.

“Well, this is a charming spot. Do wish there was something to sit on though…” She moves to sit on the ground when the Hunter reaches her and motions for her to stay put. They then disappear through the chapel doors.

Arianna raises an eyebrow at Iosefka who shrugs. “Best not to question them,” she states.

Iosefka’s fingers tangle in Evelyn’s ribbon and the girl reaches up to untie the thing from her hair. Arianna tracks the movement and seemingly notices Evelyn for the first time. She approaches their corner and leans down to speak.

“And who might you be, little darling?”

Evelyn sits up rather abruptly. Suddenly shy again in face of a new person, she scoots back into the Chapel Dweller. The Dweller gently locks his arms around Evelyn’s waist.

“I’m… Evelyn,” she eventually manages.

“What a lovely name,” Arianna coos. “And your ribbon compliments your hair so nicely!”

Evelyn doesn’t smile, not quite. But Arianna’s flattery does earn her the privilege of eye contact as Evelyn mumbles her thanks, fiddling with her ribbon as she does.

Arianna makes herself at home on the floor in front of the Chapel Dweller and strikes up a conversation with both him and Evelyn. Iosefka leans back, content to simply observe. However, Arianna is less content to let her be a bystander and pulls her into their little circle too.

The four of them pass the time telling stories, child-appropriate of course, and laughing until they hear an odd thud from beyond the chapel doors. More strange noises ensue, including solid thumps, a metallic clang, and a muffled curse. Iosefka and Arianna share a worried look, and then the doors are booted open, revealing the Hunter hefting a large chair over their head.

“Where do they keep finding these chairs??” Iosefka mutters, provoking a very unladylike snort from Arianna.

The chair is placed and Arianna, exhausted from her sprint through the ward, excuses herself from the group. The Hunter lingers around her for a while, and Iosefka notices Arianna handing over a blood vial. The Hunter then makes a reluctant exit, and soon, Arianna is quietly dozing in her seat.

Now, with no immediate source of entertainment, Iosefka busies herself by going through her supplies again. She is still disappointed by how little she has. Evelyn, however, voices her curiosity about the supplies, and Iosefka delights in teaching her.

Not long after Iosefka finishes her explanation, a man slinks in through the side entrance. He makes eye contact with Iosefka, appraises her, and gives a terse nod before tucking himself away in an alcove.

Perturbed by the man’s surreptitious entrance, Iosefka gets up to have a chat. The man tracks her every move and speaks up before she even has a chance to introduce herself.

“I know you,” he says, without an ounce of decorum.

Slightly taken aback by his aggressive declaration, Iosefka falters. “You… do?”

“Oh sure, lots of folk down in Central know about you, Doctor.”

“I-”

“I suppose you’d like to know who I am? Well, not gonna happen. There are ears everywhere.” He leans in, eyes darting around the room. “You can’t trust any of these people. None of ‘em.”

Iosefka is so distracted by the man’s ranting that she doesn’t notice the small child that had crept up beside her. “You’re wrong,” Evelyn utters, partially hiding behind Iosefka.

The man slowly drags his gaze down to land on Evelyn. “What was that?”

Evelyn shrinks back, only to poke her head out again and, in a stronger voice, say, “you’re wrong. They’re nice.”

It’s such a simple argument, but it renders the man speechless. He opens and closes his mouth several times, shifting on his perch. In light of his sputtering, Evelyn grows bolder. She steps out from behind Iosefka.

“Why don’t you like them,” she asks.

The question snaps him out of his fishlike fumbling and he launches into another rant. “It’s not that I don’t like them, I’m just wary. And I’m right to be!”

Iosefka crosses her arms, trying not to let her incredulity show too blatantly as he continues.

“Take that old woman.” Both Iosefka and Eveyln look behind them at the old lady who, thankfully, appears to be asleep. “She can hardly even stand on her own. Mark my words, before the night is over she’ll try something stupid and get someone killed!” He takes a moment to register the impassive expressions of his audience. “And that shifty little hermit.”

Iosefka and Evelyn look around the chapel in confusion before realizing he was referring to the Dweller.

“He’s here acting like he owns the place!” The man declares, ignoring their momentary confusion. “He’s not to be trusted. What’s he want with all those people anyway? That little weasel has a murky past I’m tellin’ ya!”

Evelyn stomps a foot at this and actually steps in front of Iosefka. “Stop it!” she barks. “He’s my friend!”

“Oooh, I’m sorry,” he replies, unapologetically.

Evelyn puffs out her cheeks and steps up to him. A heated, yet childish, argument starts up between the two. Iosefka tunes it out, though, as the doors in the back of the chapel creak open.

A figure clad in a feathered cape, steps into their little haven. The person’s face is covered with a mask fashioned after some sort of bird, a conical cap sits atop their head. They cut a straight path through the chapel, striding with so much purpose that Iosefka doesn’t dare try to speak to or stop them. As they sweep past her, they slow for a fraction of a second. They turn their head to take in the scene of the argument happening behind Iosefka, and Iosefka swears she hears a soft gasp. Nevertheless, the figure makes a swift exit, leaving only the faint musk of beasts behind. A Hunter, then.

Once the Hunter is fully out of view, the breathless spell that had fallen over Iosefka breaks. It takes her a couple of seconds to register that Evelyn’s squabble with the man had gone quiet. She feels a tiny hand slip into her own and looks down to find Evelyn gazing up at her with big eyes.

“Who was that?” she whispers, pointing to the exit where the Hunter had just disappeared.

“I don’t know,” Iosefka admits.

The man, overhearing their exchange, scoffs. “Just some lousy Hunter.”

Evelyn turns to the man with a fire in her eyes and sudden confidence that alarms Iosefka. “Hey! Hunters are good people!”

“Oh and I suppose you’re an expert on the matter,” the man sneers back, though his voice lacks the usual venom.

“My daddy is a Hunter!” She speaks with such conviction, and Iosefka winces at the use of ‘is’, but Evelyn doesn’t seem to notice. “And he’s great at his job!”

The two of them lock gazes in some sort of intense battle of wills. Slightly intimidated, Iosefka takes a half step back. After an agonizing couple of seconds, the man breaks the tension with a quiet chuckle.

“Heh, you got moxie kid, I’ll give ya that.” He takes a breath, and Evelyn relaxes a tiny bit. “I’m sure your pa’s a fine man, but some Hunters just can’t cut it.” He pairs his statement with a shrug.

Evelyn, while clearly not happy with him, seems to accept his concession and storms off back to their spot. Iosefka mutters an offering of her medical services and scrambles after the girl.

She finds Evelyn with her back pressed up against the railing and her knees tucked up against her chest. Iosefka sits next to her and notices the tears in her eyes.

“Hey,” Iosefka hums. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Evelyn shakes her head sharply, shaking a few tears into motion. “I’m tired,” she insists.

Evelyn unceremoniously flops onto Iosefka’s lap and shuts her eyes. Iosefka knows the girl is just avoiding an emotional conversation, and she’s quite sure Evelyn won’t actually be able to sleep. She has half a mind to prop her back up and talk anyway, but she catches the Chapel Dweller’s eye. As if reading her mind, he shakes his head.

“Give her time,” he whispers.

So, she does. She buries her worry under a mountain of patience. Evelyn’s small form starts to shake. Whether from emotion or cold Iosefka does not know. She takes off the outer shawl-like later of her dress and drapes it over Evelyn.

--

Evelyn is still sullen when the Hunter next appears. Iosefka has roused her from her nap and sat her down in front of the Chapel Dweller while she does the girl’s hair. Evelyn still clutches the shawl around her shoulders. Keeping the Dweller’s advice in her mind, Iosefka hasn’t yet tried to get Evelyn to open up. Instead, she makes small talk with the Dweller as she prepares to braid Evelyn’s hair.

Arianna had woken up and taken it upon herself to check the incense around the chapel. Iosefka can hear her moving around. Every so often the voice of the Skeptical Man pipes up to shoot snide comments at her. Iosefka hopes she is strong enough to resist the temptation to argue with him.

Iosefka is just tying off Evelyn’s braid when a commotion at the side entrance draws everyone’s attention.

The hunter comes barrelling into the chapel. They avoid a collision with Arianna by a hair and skid to a halt. The woman who charges in after them, however, is not so lucky. She slams into Arianna and almost sends them both crashing to the floor. Arianna takes the impact with a grunt but manages to steady herself while the other woman reels back. Arianna catches one of her windmilling arms and tugs her close to steady her.

“Why, you are forward, darling,” Arianna teases, releasing the woman.

The newcomer straightens, brushing dirt off her black robes as she fumbles for words and fails to hide the red in her cheeks. She is saved from replying, though, as a cacophony of beastly grunts and howls encroaches on their hideaway.

Everyone instinctively backs away from the side entrance. Even the old woman and the prickly man get out of their respective seats to retreat. The Hunter steps in front of the little group, and Iosefka stands, ready to defend Evelyn should anything appear. The noises get louder, but the incense does its job. After a tense minute, whatever chased the pair into the chapel withdraws. A collective sigh fills the air.

Iosefka makes her way down the stairs just as the skeptical man rediscovers his voice.

“Oi! You swindlin’ offcomer. You nearly got the lot of us killed!” he gasps, waving his arms around as if it would prove his point.

The old woman retakes her seat and chuckles darkly. “Just like an outsider. Parading around with young girls,” she waves a dismissive hand at the new arrival, “threatening the lives of us citizens!”

The Hunter reaches out to both of them in a pleading gesture. The old woman turns away with a scoff, and the man just shakes his head.

“Oh, go away already!” the man implores. “I’ll have no more of your lies!”

Not dissuaded by the man’s sharp words, the Hunter steps forward again. Leaving them to sort that mess out, Iosefka reaches out to the newest survivor. She has her hands clasped against her chest, gazing after the Hunter with worry written all over her face.

“Don’t worry about those two,” Iosefka assures her, turning the woman away from the scene. “They’re a little irritable but they’re harmless.”

The woman relaxes only slightly but allows Iosefka and Arianna to lead her over to a fallen pillar. The three of them sit down. The woman releases a shaky breath and rests her clasped hands on her lap.

“What’s your name, darling?” Arianna asks.

“Ah… Adella,” she replies, eyes still fixed on the Hunter.

“Well, Adella,” Iosefka says, “there’s no need to worry. You’ll be safe here.”

Adella finally lifts her gaze from the Hunter to turn towards Iosefka. “On a night of the hunt, a place such as this is a godsend.” The tension in her shoulders visibly drains as she speaks and she takes one of Iosefka’s hands in her own. “The healing church will come, as they have before, all we must do is wait.”

Iosefka nods along and tries to ignore the little seed of worry in the back of her mind.

They settle introductions and, with Adella at least marginally acclimated, the relative silence on the other side of the chapel is more noticeable. The three women look up as the Hunter practically flees back to them. They look weary. Had talking down a man and an old woman really taken that much out of them?

They go to Arianna first. They gently lift one of her arms, turning it over in examination. Checking for injuries, Iosefka realizes. She watches the scene with curiosity. Arianna insists that she is fine, but lets the Hunter fuss over her nonetheless.

Once they're satisfied that Arianna isn’t hurt, they move on to Adella. Adella does not protest the clumsy examination, she even seems to relish in the attention. The Hunter doesn’t try to examine Iosefka. They simply tilt their head at her in silent question. She nods to reassure them that she is fine, and they step back.

“Can we help you in any way, dear?” Arianna asks, tilting her head up to the Hunter. “I can offer you more blood if you need.”

At the mention of offering blood, Adella inhales sharply. Arianna doesn’t seem to notice, focused as she is on the Hunter’s response, but Iosefka notes the way Adella's spine goes rigid and she fixes her gaze on the floor as the Hunter accepts the blood.

After finishing their business with Arianna, the Hunter tips their cap to the trio and hurries out the main entrance.

Their abrupt entrance and equally abrupt exit, leaves Iosefka feeling strangely hollow. The silence of the other two women implies, to Iosefka, that they feel the same.

Arianna is the first one to break the silence. “Well, that’s that I suppose,” she sighs. She places a careful hand on Adella’s arm. Adella stiffens but doesn’t pull away. “Welcome to the family, darling. If you should ever want for company, I’m never far.”

She stands and, with a wink, turns and saunters back to her seat. Adella regards her coldly, she looks almost conflicted as she watches Arianna go. The sight puts Iosefka on edge and she is unable to explain why.

“She’s right,” Iosefka says. “We are here to help. Please, don’t hesitate to seek us out.” Adella nods but appears unconvinced. “I know Evelyn would love to meet you,” Iosefka adds, standing to leave.

That was a lie. Evelyn was still gloomy and absolutely would not love to socialize with yet another stranger. But Iosefka hopes that the mystery of meeting Evelyn will provoke Adella to seek company. The night was long, and nobody could stay sane without companionship on a night like tonight.

--

In the end, Iosefka’s ploy succeeds, though, it took longer than she had hoped.

Evelyn had only partially recovered from her bout of melancholy. Iosefka had taken down her own hair and was allowing Evelyn to play with it in an attempt to cheer her up. The Dweller looked on in fond silence.

Adella’s curious face peeks from behind the railing as she ascends the stairs. Iosefka waves her over. Arianna calls out a friendly greeting as she passes, but Adella ignores her entirely. Arianna blinks back an affronted look and huffs.

Evelyn’s hands go still in Iosefka’s hair as she spots the newcomer. Adella stops in front of them and wrings her hands together, shifting from foot to foot.

Iosefka offers her a gentle smile. “You are welcome to sit down.” She pats the floor in front of her.

“Thank you.” She sits down delicately as if afraid she’d scare them off if she moved too quickly.

“Adella, this is Evelyn,” Iosefka introduces, gesturing to the girl behind her.

Evelyn doesn’t respond verbally, but she begins to comb through Iosefka’s hair again. Iosefka takes that as a good sign. Adella grins, waving sheepishly.

“So, Adella,” Iosefka begins, “how did you end up here?”

Adella shifts into a more comfortable position. “I was seized out there on the street by a hulking brute and brought to some sort of jail.” She pauses to cross her arms over herself and then continues. “There were others there, at first. Then, one by one, they were taken away… I could still hear them, though… in the distance…”

Disturbed by the sudden terror sneaking onto Adella’s face, Iosefka tries to change the subject. “You said you were on the streets? On a night of the hunt? Then you must have some means of protecting yourself, yes?”

Adella comes back to herself, assuming a more relaxed position once more. “Well, yes. Although, my combat experience is quite… limited.”

Iosefka knew very well what kind of “combat experience” she had. The black garb she wore marked her as a church hunter. Though, they were less like hunters and more like assassins, disposing of anyone who showed symptoms or had been exposed. Iosefka resists the urge to curl her lip at the thought.

Iosefka forces a smile instead. “That is comforting to hear,” she says. “Considering our current situation, it’s good to know someone here knows how to fight.” This, at least, wasn’t a lie.

Adella chuckles. “I’m really more adept at healing,” she insists.

At this, Iosefka perks up, prompting a grunt of protest from Evelyn who had been preparing to braid her hair. “You are?”

“Yes, and I- Oh!” She cuts herself off and scrambles for the bag she carried. “I almost forgot about this. Hopefully, nothing got broken.”

She empties the contents of her bag on the floor between them. A dagger clatters out, followed by a multitude of medical supplies. Iosefka nearly cries with relief as she spots bottles of disinfectant and extra bundles of bandages. She also spots five vials of dark blood with white cloth tied around the tops.

She picks one up, curious. “Adella are you-”

“A blood saint,” Adella finishes for her. “Yes.”

Iosefka’s previous reservations about the woman melt away. Propelled by this revelation, Iosefka launches into an animated spiel about methods to refine blood for treatment. Adella, for her part, manages to look interested, and even chimes in with her own observations and ideas.

During a lull in their conversation, Iosefka notes that her hair had not been braided, despite the fact that Evelyn had, ostensibly, been braiding it the whole time.

“Evelyn?” she asks.

Evelyn stops working again. “Yeah?”

“You’ve been braiding for quite a while now.”

“...Yeah.”

“Do you need some help?”

“...I don’t know how to braid,” comes the quiet admission.

Iosefka can’t keep the smile off her face and she bites back a laugh. “You could have said something earlier.” Evelyn doesn’t respond, but she removes her hands from Iosefka’s hair. “Would you like to learn?” Iosefka asks in a softer voice.

“Yes, please.”

Evelyn shuffles around to sit next to Iosefka while Iosefka fumbles around for anything that could be used to demonstrate. Seeing this, Adella reaches around for her braid.

“You may practice on me if you wish,” she offers.

“That’s very kind, thank you,” Iosefka responds.

Adella shifts until she faces away from the other two. Iosefka works on untangling her black hair while Evelyn marvels at its length.

Iosefka demonstrates a couple of simple braids and has Evelyn practice them. Once Evelyn can reliably replicate Iosefka’s work, she retakes her position behind Iosefka and finishes what she started.

As Iosefka replaces Adella’s original braid, her gaze drifts over to a disgruntled Arianna who tries and fails to pretend she wasn’t watching. A question comes to her mind that she can’t seem to dismiss.

“Adella…” she drifts off, unsure if she should even ask. Adella hums and tilts her head, tugging half her hair out of Iosefka’s hand. “Do you… dislike Arianna?”

Adella tenses up again. Silence stretches between them and, for a moment, Iosefka fears she won’t answer. She is just about to apologize for bringing it up when Adella sighs. “Liking her has nothing to do with it.”

“Then why…” Iosefka trails off again, at a loss for how to formulate the rest of the question. Adella’s response is whispered and cold.

“Her blood is tainted.”

Iosefka senses the animosity in her tone but presses on, regardless. “How can you say such a thing?”

“The church taught us about her kind.”

“You should not be so quick to judge,” Iosefka snaps. In a lower voice, she continues. “The church is not infallible. And in my experience, a person’s blood is not indicative of their character.” Adella stays silent as Iosefka ties off the braid. “Arianna is a good person with a kind heart. Please, give her a chance,” Iosefka pleads.

Adella turns to face Iosefka. She holds an expression of forced neutrality and opens her mouth to speak. But whatever response she was about to give is interrupted by the arrival of Arianna herself.

“I was feeling rather lonely over there by myself, so I came to join you,” Arianna says. Adella snaps her mouth shut as Arianna takes a seat beside them. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Well, actually-” Adella begins.

“Not at all,” Iosefka cuts her off, shooting her a pointed look. Adella scowls but Arianna either doesn’t notice or doesn’t comment.

“Oh, I’m glad,” Arianna sighs.

Evelyn, now long done with Iosefka’s hair, gives Arianna a wave before escaping to the Chapel Dweller. Arianna watches her go, a soft smile on her lips.

“Quite a big family aren’t we?” Arianna muses. Her gaze drifts to the exit of the chapel, where distant howls could still be heard. “I don’t suppose many more will be joining us, though.”

Iosefka has no response to that. The reality of the night starts to sink in. There was likely no one left in Yharnam. No one but their little group.

“If that is the case, I am grateful that I am not alone in this place,” Arianna confesses.

The comment was intended for both of them, Iosefka knew, but Arianna’s smile landed on Adella. Although her scowl recedes, Adella still turns her face away.

“E-excuse me,” Adella stutters, standing up, “I’ve got to go… check something.”

It was a poor excuse, everyone knew it. Iosefka watched the hurt flick across Arianna’s face. “Have I offended you in some way?” Arianna blurts, standing abruptly to chase Adella. “I know I am not the church’s idea of ‘pleasant company’ but…” she trails off, holding a hand to her midriff.

Her face scrunches in discomfort and Iosefka shifts, sensing something wrong. Adella whirls on her before Iosefka can even stand.

“No, pleasant company wouldn’t give their dirty blood to a good hunter trying to save our town.”

“Is that what this is about? I was only offering to help.” She takes a hesitant step closer. Her voice is noticeably strained as she continues. “You can’t be jealous… can you?”

“Jealous? Of you?” Adella appears genuinely taken aback by the accusation. Arianna grimaces as whatever is afflicting her seemed to worsen. Adella’s anger fades away when she finally notices the pain the other woman is in. “What’s happening?”

Instead of giving a coherent response, Arianna doubles over, gasping. “Oh… there’s something wrong with me…” she moans.

A shiver runs through her body. That’s the only warning they get before she collapses. Iosefka lunges forward, never mind that she’s too far away to actually catch the woman. Adella, though, is right in front of her and reacts just in time.

Adella struggles to stand again, now supporting Arianna’s body with her own, and looks to Iosefka. Despite the ugly words she just spouted, her face is full of concern.

Together, the two of them settle Arianna back into her chair. Arianna is still conscious, but she’s bent over herself, fists clenched in her lap, and breathing heavily. Iosefka takes Adella aside to assess the situation.

“She’s clearly in a lot of pain,” Iosefka begins, “but she lacks any obvious external wounds, which means my bandages are useless. Some blood healing may soothe her but I do not have the means to refine my own blood. Adella, you may have to…” she trails off, noticing that Adella was no longer paying attention. She was looking at Arianna and worrying her bottom lip. “Adella? Adella, are you listening?”

Adella snaps back to Iosefka. “Ah, yes, I was just thinking…” Her attention drifts back to Arianna. “Do you think that this could have been my fault?” She rubs her hands together, dropping her gaze to the floor. “What if my… outburst somehow affected her?”

Iosefka takes the other woman’s shoulders, capturing her attention. “Adella, the things you said were needlessly harsh, yes, but I doubt that could’ve caused something like this. Regardless, what matters now is how we get her through this.” Iosefka waits for an affirmative response before continuing with her brief. “As I was saying, I don’t have any blood vials on me, so we’ll have to treat her with yours. Can you do that?”

Adella nods, and the two of them rejoin Arianna. Iosefka informs Arianna of what they plan to do and then holds her attention while Adella administers the blood treatment. For a few moments, Arianna retains her pained expression and posture. Then, gradually, she begins to ease up.

She straightens and runs a stiff hand through her hair. Gently, she takes one of Iosefka’s hands. “Thank you, dear. You really do work miracles.”

Iosefka slips her hand out of the other woman’s grasp and chuckles. “I was merely a distraction. It was Adella who did all the work.” She gestures to Adella who, at this point, is doing her best to fade into the background.

Adella shoots Iosefka a panicked look but musters a weak smile for Arianna.

A quiet, choked sob diverts Iosefka’s attention. She turns to see the old woman hunched in her chair with her head in her hands. The skeptical man is leaning over next to her, whispering something to her. Grateful for a reason to give Adella and Arianna a chance to talk privately, Iosefka makes her way over.

At the sight of Iosefka walking over, the man bolts upright. “I didn’t do nothing,” the man insists. “She just lost it all of a sudden. I came over to help, really.” Iosefka fixes him with a steely glare. “I bet it’s got something to do with the change out there.” He points out the door.

“What?” Iosefka glances out the door to discover the night sky is now a violent shade of orange.

The sight horrifies and transfixes her. In a daze, she forgets the dangers of the night and wanders out into the courtyard. Angry purple-tinted clouds reflected the light of the menacing blood moon.

Was it always that close?

Iosefka might have stared up at the sky for hours if the manic sobbing of the old woman hadn’t reminded her of why she came down here in the first place. She shakes herself out of her shock and hurries back inside.

The skeptical man had since retreated back to his alcove but the old woman hadn’t moved. Iosefka kneels by her chair and makes an effort to console her. Her attempts are in vain, however, as the woman absolutely refuses to acknowledge Iosefka’s presence.

Iosefka stands up, ready to march over to the man lurking in the corner and demand to know what happened. This endeavor is interrupted, though, by the sudden unexpected return of the Hunter. They stagger into the chapel. The bird-like hunter who passed through earlier leans heavily on them, one arm slung over their shoulders. A large dark stain encompasses most of the bird hunter’s torso and they press a hand over it, trying to stop it from spreading further.

Iosefka meets the Hunter’s panicked eyes and jumps into action before anyone can utter a word. She rushes to support the other side of the injured hunter and leads them to an open swath of floor beside the stairs.

The injured Hunter groans as they lower her down to the floor. “You’re a foolish young Hunter,” she says weakly. “I told you, I’ll be-” she winces as Iosefka removes her hand from her wound- “fine.”

The woman’s breathing is fast and ragged. Iosefka shakes her head. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, you need to take it easy.” Iosefka rests a hand on her new patient’s shoulder. “May I see the wound?”

The woman hesitates but, after a moment, nods. Iosefka begins undoing the front of the woman’s clothes, steadfastly ignoring the blood soaking through her white gloves and the many pairs of eyes watching the commotion.

The alarmed squawk of a young girl does make her look up, however. Evelyn barrels down the stairs and skids to a halt in front of them. “Eileen!” she yelps, dropping her knees beside Iosefka.

The injured Hunter, Eileen, forces a strained chuckle. “Hello Evie, you’re a lovely sight for sore eyes.” She pauses, trying to shift into a sitting position but Iosefka holds her down. “Only… I’m sorry you have to see me in this state.”

Evelyn looks to Iosefka, eyes wide and glistening with tears. “What happened to her?” Her voice cracks as she speaks. She looks more vulnerable — more broken — than Iosefka has ever seen her.

“I don’t know,” Iosefka answers, “but I’ll make sure she survives.”

With that, Iosefka throws herself back to work. She doesn’t know the relationship between Evelyn and Eileen, but she’ll be damned if she lets this world take anything more from this little girl.

The Hunter kneels beside Evelyn, settling an arm around her small shoulders, both as a measure of comfort and as a way to ensure she doesn’t interfere with Iosefka’s work.

Iosefka unclasps Eileen’s cape, revealing several smaller bloodstains along her shoulders and arms. She swallows back her worry, the smaller wounds could wait. Carefully, she peels back the bloody cloth around Eileen’s torso and faces the deep gash that runs diagonally from the top of her hip to the bottom of her ribs.

The scent of blood assaults Iosefka’s nose. Next to her, Evelyn lets out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a gag and buries her face in the Hunter’s coat. The wound is still oozing blood. Iosefka shoves a hand in her pocket, searching for her bandages.

As she does, she turns to the Hunter. “Get Evelyn back upstairs, keep her away from us for now. And bring me Adella, I’ll need her help.”

The Hunter nods. They stand and sweep Evelyn into their arms. Iosefka doesn’t watch them go. Adella arrives as Iosefka is pressing clean bandages to the wound. Eileen has gone quiet, her breathing has slowed, though it is still ragged.

Adella kneels on the other side of Eileen and dutifully takes orders from Iosefka. The two of them work with single-minded focus. Together, they clean, close, and bandage the gaping slash as best they can. They run out of bandages trying to patch up all the smaller wounds, so they make do with scraps of cloth. Iosefka desperately wishes she could bring them to her clinic.

Iosefka has no idea how much time has passed since they began. Eileen had passed out at some point during the process, either from blood loss or plain exhaustion. At the very least, their patch-up job would keep her stable. The Hunter had disappeared again, though, that was to be expected.

Adella strips off her bloody gloves and rubs at her eyes, sighing. Iosefka follows suit. Silently, they stand and return to the upper level.

Iosefka finds Evelyn seated on Arianna’s lap, face buried in the crook of her neck. The girl’s eyes are red-rimmed from crying and she had, apparently, fallen asleep again. Arianna had been resting her head atop Evelyn’s, eyes closed, but she opened them as Iosefka and Adella drew close.

“How long were we down there?” Adella whispers.

Arianna lifts her head to think. “Ordinarily, I’d guess a couple of hours, but this night is anything but ordinary.”

Whatever tension there was between Adella and Arianna seems to have faded, and Iosefka smiles to see them at least tolerating each other. “How’s your pain, Arianna?” Iosefka asks.

“Oh, it comes and goes.” Evelyn shifts in her sleep and Arianna absently strokes her hair in a soothing motion. “The blood certainly helped, darling.” She throws a casual wink at Adella who turns away sharply, flushing red.

For once, things seem to be running smoothly. Satisfied that she won’t be needed, and anxious about being away from a patient, Iosefka excuses herself and returns to Eileen. She fuses over some of the bandages, tightening and adjusting until she feels safe enough to relax against the side of the staircase.

The longer she sits there, however, the clearer it becomes that ‘relaxing’ is a concept that had eluded her since the night began. Physically, she is calm, but her mind is a whirlwind of worries. She busies herself with measuring the breaths Eileen takes. This act of vigilance isn’t exactly the most soothing of pastimes, but it reassures her. Iosefka had failed her patients once, she would not let it happen again.

At some point, Evelyn comes down to join her. Iosefka, so absorbed in her own thoughts, doesn’t notice her until she speaks. “Will she be alright?”

Iosefka snaps back to herself, coughing to hide her surprise. “Yes, she is stable. She’ll be fine.” Of course, this was assuming the night would end and that they’d get her to a proper medical facility. But Iosefka couldn’t tell her that.

“Good,” Evelyn states, plopping onto the floor beside Iosefka.

“How do you know Eileen?”

“She works with Daddy.” Evelyn yawns, leaning on Iosefka. “She comes to our house a lot.”

“I see.” Iosefka lets their conversation hang in the air for a moment. “That reminds me…” With a heavy heart, Iosefka pulls out the music box the Hunter had given her. “I think this is yours.”

Evelyn takes the tiny box with trembling hands. “The music box…”

“Our Hunter asked me to return it to you.”

Evelyn looks down at the box, her hair falls over her face, obscuring it. She says nothing, but opens the box and lets it play its eerily delicate lullaby. Iosefka gently tugs the girl closer, hoping to comfort her. She leans her head back against the wall, letting her eyes slide shut. When the song ends, Evelyn winds the box up again. The fragile tune does nothing to mask Evelyn’s soft sniffles.

--

Iosefka is rudely awoken, for the second time that night, by Adella. Initially, Iosefka tries to brush the hand off her shoulder. But Adella is determined, shaking her shoulders and calling her name. When Iosefka opens her eyes, she meets Adella’s frantic expression and is immediately on edge.

Her thoughts instinctively go to Evelyn, and then Eileen. Her eyes dart around the area, searching for both of them, even as she asks, “What happened?”

“Arianna,” Adella gasps, “she’s gone.”

“How? When?” Iosefka allows Adella to pull her to her feet. She spots Eileen, awake and alert, sitting with Evelyn. They wear matching puzzled looks.

“I-I don’t know,” Adella confesses, “I drifted off, and when I woke up she was gone and…” She trails off, fiddling with the end of her braid.

She shakes her head, pulls herself together, and leads Iosefka up the stairs. To Iosefka’s horror, not only is Arianna missing, but her chair is splattered with blood. Small pools of blood lead away from the chair, towards the door to Oedon Tomb.

Heart racing, Iosefka marches over to the doors and pulls them open. The blood trail continues into the small library beyond the doors and disappears down the ladder.

“What’s wrong?”

Iosefka and Adella turn to find Eileen, maskless, standing behind them. She had abandoned her bloody overcoat and now wore a lightweight, but heavily stained, undershirt. She hunches over, hand still clutching her bandaged midriff, but she could clearly move around on her own.

Instead of answering her question, Iosefka responds, “no.”

“What?”

“You’re in no shape to be up searching for missing women. Go back and keep resting.”

Eileen steps backward as Iosefka advances, shooing her away. “You can’t go on alone,” she protests, even as she takes another step back. “There’s no telling how many beasts may be down there.”

“And you’ll be of no use to us half dead,” Iosefka shoots back, steering Eileen away from the door. “Sit. Rest. We’ll be back soon.” Her tone left no room for argument and Eileen, begrudgingly, does as she's told.

With no more hesitation, Iosefka grabs Adella and pulls her toward the ladder.

Iosefka descends first. As her feet hit the water at the bottom, she hears a quiet sobbing. She whirls toward the sound and reels back as her head erupts in pain. She cries out but hardly hears it over the ringing in her ears. Her vision blurs and she shakes her head to clear it. It all fades as quickly as it came on. She blinks several times and finds that the details of the dark room are ever so faintly sharper than before.

“Is everything okay?” Adella calls from above.

“Yes, she’s here! You can come down, just… be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?”

Iosefka doesn’t know how to answer that question, so she blandly states, “I don’t know.”

Arianna sits in a chair on the far side of the room. Her head is buried in her hands and her shoulders shake violently as she sobs into them. The bottom of her dress is covered in blood and sitting at her feet is a bloody misshapen creature that Iosefka cannot identify.

Arianna does not react to Iosefka’s presence, or her shouted conversation with Adella. The creature, though, turns toward her as she creeps around it. It trills at her out of… excitement? Fear? It’s impossible to tell.

Adella’s feet hit the ground with a splash. Iosefka keeps her eyes on the creature, but she hears Adella groan as she, presumably, experiences the same thing Iosefka had.

In the corner, Arianna begins to speak. “It can’t be…” Her voice starts out so soft that, at first, Iosefka doesn’t realize she’s speaking. “This is a nightmare…” More sobbing chokes her voice.

Adella rushes to Arianna’s side and tries to gently lift her face away from her hands, yet Arianna refuses to move. In fact, she has no reaction at all to Adella’s touch. Arianna’s sobs morph into hysterical laughter, and Iosefka and Adella share worried glances with each other.

Her laughter slowly recedes back into quiet sobbing. The creature at their feet chirps again, and the sound echoes in the enclosed space.

“Did it do this?” Adella asks, her voice shakes and she gives the creature a glare so savage Iosefka wonders why it doesn’t shrivel up on the spot.

“I don’t know,” Iosefka replies. She’s so sick of saying that. “I don’t even know what it is.”

Iosefka balls up her hands, frustrated by what she doesn’t understand. That frustration is tempered only by the burning curiosity to find an understanding. To take apart whatever this creature is and learn.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of a third person. Eileen drops roughly off the ladder and grunts in pain. She hardly even winces as she takes in the scene before her.

“I thought I told you to rest!” Iosefka snaps.

Eileen chuckles, grabbing her side as she moves forward. “Yeah. I’ve never been good at sitting still.”

Iosefka lets out an exasperated sigh. “Just… don’t touch anything. We don’t want you getting infected.” Eileen gives her an amused look and simply nods.

For several minutes, the three of them try to bring Arianna back from whatever madness has taken hold of her. She never speaks, but they do succeed in removing her hands from her face.

In the end, Iosefka and Adella each sling one of her arms over their shoulders and they lift her forcefully out of her seat. Arianna does not resist, but nor does she help them as they practically drag her over to the ladder. The ladder itself is an entirely different issue. Iosefka feels as if an entire night had passed completing that task alone.

Finally, at the top once more, Adella and Iosefka hold Arianna between them, ready to drag her back to the chapel proper.

“What about the… creature?” Iosefka questions. The creature in question could still be heard chirping below, unable to follow.

“I’ll take care of it,” Eileen says, already turning back.

“You’re… going to kill it?’

“Yes.”

Iosefka hesitates, torn between curiosity and responsibility. Arianna whimpers in her arms and Iosefka sighs. “Very well.”

She tries very hard to ignore the lingering regret in her mind as she and Adella lower Arianna back into her bloody chair.

Eileen rejoins them minutes later. New splotches of red bloom through her shirt and Iosefka shoots her an ‘I told you so’ look. She scowls back good-naturedly and returns to Evelyn.

Iosefka slumps down next to the chair. Arianna’s sobbing has subsided, though, tears still roll down her cheeks. Somehow, the silent crying unnerves Iosefka more than her sobbing ever could.

Adella reaches out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Arianna’s ear. Arianna’s blank expression doesn’t change. “Can’t you do anything to help her?” Adella murmurs.

“Unfortunately, my medical knowledge doesn’t encompass… this.”

Adella slides to the ground, defeated.

Iosefka leans back. She throws an arm over her eyes, more than ready to sleep the rest of the night away when someone clears their throat. Reluctantly, Iosefka opens her eyes again. The old woman stands before her, leaning heavily on the railing and clutching something in her free hand.

“I couldn’t help but notice the state this young lady is in,” the woman says, nodding towards Arianna.

“Ah, yes,” Iosefka replies, laboriously getting to her feet once more. “It is… unfortunate.”

The old woman hobbles over to Arianna and steadies herself on the chair. “Oh, my. Poor thing.” She giggles to herself.

Her behavior unsettles Iosefka. From what she’d seen of this woman, this level of empathy, or empathy at all really, is uncharacteristic.

The woman turns back to Iosefka. “Here,” she says, holding out her palm to reveal three bottles of sedatives. “These should help her forget.” She punctuates this with more giggles, dropping the bottles into Iosefka’s outstretched hands. “If there’s ever anything you’d like to tell me, feel free.” She steps closer, lowering her voice. “You can’t bottle up everything inside. You mustn’t be afraid to share.” The woman nods sagely as she steps away, hobbling back to her place. Somewhat bewildered, Iosefka watches her go.

Sedatives in hand, she turns to Adella. Together, they get the medicine into Arianna’s body. It takes effect almost immediately. Life returns to Arianna’s eyes. She still does not speak, but she wraps them both up in a hug and doesn’t let go for a long while.

--

The sun does rise again in Yharnam, however slowly. The nascent rays of light begin to wash away the shadows of a lifetime spent without them.

Evelyn is the first to react. She bounds out of her seat in Iosefka’s lap and drags the older woman behind her as she makes for the courtyard. Eileen falls into step beside them, a fond smile gracing her lips.

As Evelyn drags her along, Iosefka glimpses Adella helping Arianna out of her seat and the prickly man offering his arm to the old woman. Iosefka doesn’t try to hide her grin as they all step out into the burgeoning sunlight.

The courtyard, realistically, looks the same as it had the night before. But to Iosefka, it was the warmest, most beautiful scene she could have woken to. She gazes around at her fellow survivors, spreading out amidst the morning, and her eyes land upon a solitary figure admiring the sunrise.

The grey of the Hunter’s attire looks strangely washed out in the light of day as if the colors themselves know their job is finished. For once, the Hunter carries no weapons. They look… clean, and more at ease than Iosefka has ever seen them. They turn and lock eyes with her, removing their tattered hat as they move forward. To her surprise, they also pull down their mask and grace her with a smile so bright it rivals that of the newborn sun.

Iosefka waits until they’ve joined her on the stairs before pulling them, suddenly, into a fierce hug. “Thank you,” she whispers into their shoulder, choking back tears. She has no more words to express herself, and so, holds them tighter as they return the embrace.

When they finally release each other, the Hunter peers into the chapel behind her. She follows their gaze and spots the Dweller smiling sadly after them. Iosefka grabs the Hunter’s hand and leads them back to the first and last resident of the chapel.
“You did it,” Iosefka states, taking a place beside the Dweller.

“Me?” the Chapel Dweller warbles. “Oh, I hardly did a thing. I just told a Hunter to spread the word of this here chapel. M’not a hero or nothing.”

The Hunter in question is pulled down beside Iosefka and nods politely to the Dweller.

Iosefka gestures to the door, and to the rays of sunlight illuminating the drab interior. “Everyone that just left this chapel is alive because of you. Don’t sell yourself short.” She takes his bony hand and gives it a light squeeze.

“Ah, heh.” He turns away, rubbing the back of his neck. “What about you? Aren’t you going too?”

Iosefka squares her shoulders and tucks her legs underneath her. “Actually, I think I’ll stay here awhile… keep you company. If that’s alright, that is.”

He faces her again, beaming. “I’d like that.”

Iosefka leans against him, one hand still occupied by the Hunter’s, the three of them content to let the sun dapple them with the warmth of life.