Twilight stepped out of the clinic, her grip tight on the cane in her hand. She took a deep breath in, and scowled. The blood in the air should have been enough of a warning, and yet she thought something as grotesque as that mutated man would be friendly. She would not make the same mistake twice.

She shut her eyes as she walked up the lane. She knew her form was akin to that of the other person so did that mean she was to murder him? She shut her eyes again, her chest tightening, while a soothing wave came down from her horn. When she opened them, she could hear faint church bells, and heard the words, ”They’re tainted, just more beasts. To protect the rest, they must be cleansed.”

She walked up to it, gripping the head of the cane. It was a beast, they were all beasts, so it did not matter if she dispatched it. Twilight then blinked, and then shut her eyes even tighter. No, no I will not think of them like that. They’re… they’re still people. She opened them up, finding herself just behind the man, and grit her teeth. Even if she hoped to keep her humanity, she would also need to survive, which meant killing those who looked to stop her.

Twilight raised her cane high, and brought it down with all her might. The tendons in the villager’s leg snapped, before the razor edge sliced through his leg cleanly, and he fell to his knees. Twilight switched to a one handed grip on it, her instincts raising it above her head, and pointed to the thing’s head. The clatter of his weapon on the ground told her he was disarmed though, and she stepped over the man, and pulled the lever that had avoided her before.

While putting her foot onto the first rung, she heard the scraping of steel on the cobblestones. Looking over, she saw the man picking his cleaver back up. That wasn’t a problem. No, the real problem was the fact that she could see his leg resealing itself, the open flesh sewing itself close with blood, and then skin. He then turned to her and let out the same yell as he had the first time they’d met.

Twilight flew up the stairs, her heart beating in her ears as she heard the man’s weapon clang against the ladder. He could be following her, and if he were immortal, she was in trouble. He can’t be though, not when I get cut and taken away to that other realm, right? She couldn’t dwell on it though, as she pulled herself up, and looked behind her.

The man stood there, staring at her from the bottom, but he did not try to follow. It was very… peculiar to Twilight. “Did he simply lose interest?” No answer came though, not from below her, and she stepped away. She couldn’t help but bite her lip as she moved, now in the middle of what must have been a small crossroads.

Her hand brushed against the lantern in the center of it, almost without her even noticing it, as she looked out to her right. She could see even more tall, grand buildings stretch to the the sky, and her mouth dropped slightly. This city had to be larger than Canterlot, or possibly any that Equestria had ever seen. “How is this even possib-”

“Cough, cough.”

She froze, her ears rising high above her head as she turned to the sound. She now saw the burning lantern beside a lit window. It had bars over it though, something usually kept only for prisoners. Twilight considered simply walking away, especially after the last person she had met. If she was going to survive though, she would need help, and maybe, just maybe, this one would be friendly.

Her soft boots made almost no sound as she came closer to the window, and she barely whispered, “Hello?”

“Oh, hello.” The voice sounded kind to Twilight, and while a little raspy, it was probably due to the cough he had, especially so if it’d been there for a while. “A-are you friendly? You don’t carry the stench of blood like the beasts, and you… you look different than the other hunters.”

Twilight performed a small curtsy, and almost fell doing the oddly instinctual movement. She righted herself quickly though, and tried to smile at the man within, despite being unable to see his face through the heavy curtains. “My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I mean you, nor anything else in this world, any harm. I simply come to protect those who I care about, and solve the mystery of the child my lady holds.”

A chuckle came from within the room. “Ah, you make me feel at home with such a proper greeting, even for one as sick as I am. I won’t ask where you’re from specifically, not with such an… interesting look to you, especially since I… can’t remember my home. I’ve been here so long, waiting for this blasted night to end so I may find the cure that Yharnam is famous for.”

Twilight placed a hand on the bars as another cough wracked through the man, and she could hear a quiet sob escape him when he quieted. She looked to the sunset in the sky, and whispered, “Don’t worry. Another twelve hours, and you should be fine. This night can’t last too long, right?”

A silence came from within, before something began to shuffle. “Thank you, Twilight. I… I needed someone to tell me that, even if I fear they may be hollow.” A break in the curtains appeared, and Twilight’s eyes widened as an ashen gray hand came out. She froze, panicked by the long claws and bandages over it, and the tufts of fur it seemed. The claw came against hers, and barely scratched her. It was still enough to make her jump back out of instinct.

“Oh, oh I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. Ah, Gilbert, how stupid can you be?”

Twilight stared at her hand, and at the small scratch there. It was still nothing compared to what she had seen, and this man… She stepped back to the window, and pushed her hand through the window. “Thank you for showing me your regret. I was afraid such an emotion was devoid in this world, and I needed you to show me some light as well. Please, shake my hand, Gilbert.”

A silence came from the apartment again, before a thick rag pressed against her hand, before she could feel the grip around it tighten with both hands. “I know this is a small gift for trusting in me, but please, take it. I know hunters will inject themselves with that blood, and it heals their wounds.”

Twilight’s brow creased as she pulled her hand back, and saw that within the rag was what looked like a small blood bag attached with a needle. Her eyes briefly glowed, and the image of the hunter from before slamming it into his leg, and injecting himself with the blood. It was almost enough to make her sick.

Still, she knew better manners than to reject it, and nodded to the window. “Thank you, Gilbert, and I will try to come back from time to time. I promise.”

Gilbert stared at the purple hairs in his claws, sitting in the one stool in his apartment, and stared out at the piles of mess that made up the rest of his resting place. “Please, do, for this night feels like it has lasted for far longer than twelve hours, and the call in the back of my mind won’t get any quieter without you, or The Healing Church.”

He shut his eyes as a bang echoed from below, and Twilight barely got a glimpse at the first rifle in Yharnam, before the hiding man’s second shot went through her chest, and she fell back to her dream.

Author's Note

I didn't contact my editor for this chapter, so sorry about the mistakes, but I wanted to update it though because I've been watching Bloodborne vidoes more as of late, and need to push myself as far as fight scenes go. I do think I'll be able to stick to my guns better now though, as the tone of this story fits my mood much better than it did while I was fanboying about it.

~~As for the vote, Fight, or Flight, and, if you know about Gilbert's true disease (or his name before now), put "Cleansed in fire," in you comment.~~ I ended up just running with the first comment for the next chapter, because, well, I wanted to continue the story, and the change between the two isn't super drastic this time.