Surgit stood in front of the graveyard, ready for another round against Gascoigne. He’s been clobbered to death, eaten, torn apart and even shot to death. He wondered what else the old man still had in stock for him. The last time he went to face him he was so sloppy that the fight finished in two swings.

When he came back from the dead, he decided to clear his mind and went on a rampage around the city. He cleared it of all that roamed about except for the thing that wailed in the tunnel by the canals. He still didn’t feel like going in blind and risking another humiliation. He couldn’t take it. Gascoigne was enough.

He had already accumulated enough echoes to upgrade his skill a little. His skill tree now read:

Name: Surgit

Insight level: Narrow minded

Strength: Waste of Skin (2)

Skill: Skillful (2)

Bloodtinge: Blood Hungry (1)

Arcane: Blind (1)

Even though the change looked small, he actually felt like the monsters in the city moved slower. He could read through their movements with ease. He even found himself mechanically predicting their next move. He wanted to improve his skill more but so far, he was still unable to read the book he found for a longer time and the information wasn’t too helpful.

His new attire also had some interesting use. First, he had extra pockets in which he could store medium sized objects. He had put the music box the little girl had handed him earlier in one of the pockets. Secondly, the belt that aligned diagonally from his chest to waist was useful to quickly access bullets and blood vials. And he finally had a proper holster for his gun and a unique kind of sheath for his weapon. It wasn’t a proper sheath per say as the cleaver was not even a conventional weapon to be sheathed. Instead, he had a strange strap on his back which was ornamented with little magnets. All he had to do was throw his weapon at his back and it would attach automatically.

Surgit stood at the entrance of the graveyard and took a deep breath. He had to finish the hunter now. Karla started insisting on going with him and he started running out of excuses. In fact she looked better and felt like she could fight by his side. The last time he spoke to her, he’d asked her to regain more of her strength. He promised that if he didn’t find the key that time, he’d take her with him. That was the only way to keep her at the clinic. If he ever brought her to fight the hunter, she would get herself killed. Surgit was a hunter and he had trouble dealing with the old lunatic. He couldn’t imagine how Karla would be able to match Gascoigne’s speed and deadly attacks.

When he made his presence known in the graveyard, Gascoigne dashed towards him. He shot him with his shotgun and as Surgit dodged, he saw the man’s axe right in front of his eyes. It was as if time had slowed down. He dodged the first swing that was aimed at his head then bent backwards. The back of his head almost touched the ground while the horizontal swing missed his chest. Surgit rolled backwards then jumped at the man, bringing his cleaver down on him. Gascoigne blocked the attack, holding his axe with both hands. Surgit didn’t stop at that and kicked the man so hard in the stomach. He sent the hunter flying only to be smashed on a tree. His strength had increased considerably. The blood echoes were a real life saver.

Gascoigne stood up then dashed towards Surgit. The kick didn’t affect him much, he kept his usual speed. Two strikes from his axe missed Surgit as he dodged in the nick of time. He could see clearer through the old man’s attacks. The only thing left now was to find an opening and damage him badly. Gascoigne took his shotgun in order to shoot Surgit but the latter had read through his movement. He kicked the firearm away from the man’s left hand and, as he spun, elongated his cleaver and struck Gascoigne on his right ribs. The saw was buried deep within his ribcage but Gascoigne just looked at Surgit and smiled. That smile which could immobilize a person from fear. He had canine teeth and his eyes were bandaged. It felt like a demon was playing with him and giving him room for a first hit before he finished him.

Surgit jumped back and readied himself for another flurry of attacks from Gascoigne. The man dashed towards Surgit and attacked furiously. He could see through all his movements though and it appeared to him that they were slower than before. He saw that the bleeding hadn’t stopped and perhaps, Gascoigne didn’t feel the pain. It was like he didn’t realize that he was injured. Gascoigne elongated his axe and performed a spinning attack. Surgit jumped behind him just as the axe grazed his legs. None of them noticed the music box falling from Surgit’s pocket. The box fell down and opened, it played some kind of lullaby. Surgit looked as the old man stopped at his tracks and held his head with both hands. The music affected him in some strange way. Surgit was too absorbed by the fight to make a connection between the music box and the hunter’s reaction.

It was his chance to finish the fight at last. He ran towards him and struck him with his elongated cleaver. The weapon hit him on the left ribs and the impact placated Gascoigne on the ground. Surgit’s saw was dripping with blood but that still didn’t stop Gascoigne. The hunter stood up and rushed Surgit again. The latter dodged his attacks which seemed to slow down a little. With his left foot, Surgit almost tripped on the music box and the axe missed him by a hair’s width. ‘If I use that music again, I might finally finish him and bring this fight to an end.’

He dodged another flurry and picked up the box as he rolled away from a large swing. He opened it again and Gascoigne held his head in pain again. Before Surgit could approach the struggling hunter, a blinding light forced him to jump back. ‘Oh shit!’

The beast jumped at Surgit and tried to rip his body apart as it did earlier. Surgit rolled forward and avoided the attack. He turned back towards the beast to see it relentlessly running at him. He saw its claws missing him by a whisker. The music box didn’t affect the monster anymore. So he stood in place, dodging all the beast’s attacks until the latter performed a slam that forced Surgit to jump back. ‘His attacks are dangerous. I need to find a way to knock him out or something. There has to be a way to bring him down.’

He could already see that the wounds he had inflicted on him earlier had slightly closed and the bleeding stopped. He baited another slam attack from the beast and jumped to avoid it. He kicked the beast as hard as he could in the head. He was aiming to knock it out but the beast didn’t even react to the attack. ‘Its strength and speed have increased and the kick that sent him flying earlier had no effect on him. I need to find another way.’ As the transformed man came at him with a new flurry of attacks, Surgit drew out his gun and went for the counter attack. As he shot the monster and saw it down on its knees Surgit heard the echoes in his head again ‘Bless us with blood… GIVE US BLOOD.’ The voices were too agitated and their screams gave Surgit a headache. He winced from pain and couldn’t move for a little while. When he came to, the beast had recovered and kicked him in the stomach. Surgit felt the claws penetrating his abdomen and as he flew backwards, blood came rushing out of his nostrils. A huge tombstone stopped him on his tracks and he felt some bones breaking. The beast was running towards him again and Surgit had barely enough energy to take a blood vial from his pocket and inject himself with it.

The healing effect helped him regain some of his power and he managed to stand and run away from the beast’s next series of attacks. The old man always attacked in flurries or with body slams. The kick was a new attack but all in all, Surgit started to see a pattern there. He injected himself with another vial and regained his strength completely. The beast repeated another slam and Surgit was ready for it this time. He shot the old man in the chin as the latter landed with all his body weight on him. That shot was enough to stagger him. Surgit fought against the pain induced from the screaming voices in his head and tried with all his might to attack the beast and finish it off. The beast was already recovering from the stagger and was about to stand and attack again. There was no time for a visceral attack.

He threw his cleaver on his back, which attached immediately to the magnets. He had both his hands free at that moment and he inflicted a rapid and strong series of blows on the beast’s face. He felt the adrenaline rushing through his body. He felt the excitement of battle and the feeling that he was about to win the fight pushed him to punch even stronger.

Pain came searing through his ribs as the beast had caught him with both hands and slammed him to the ground. His punches were still too weak to bring the old man down to another stagger state. The man stomped at Surgit’s face twice and he started feeling himself losing consciousness. ‘Blood, bless us with blood!’ The voices in his head were getting less frenzied. All he wanted to do was lay in there and rest. It felt good to be plummeted to death and he knew that he would have another chance at thinking of a way to bring the man in a flash, using the box.

With a jolt of pain, he felt the beast’s teeth wrapped around his right arm, Surgit took his gun from the left and shot the beast in the face. As the old man was stunned by the shot, Surgit took two vials and injected himself with it. Surgit didn’t lose time as he started hacking at the beast’s left leg. In three strikes, performed in a Z movement, Surgit cut its leg off. He followed this strike with a kick to the other leg. He heard Gascoigne’s howls as he fell to the ground. He enjoyed hearing his tormentor scream in pain. He finally had the chance to give him back some of the pain he inflicted upon him.

He used the momentum of his kick to take his cleaver from its sheath. He elongated it then brought it down on Gascoigne, tearing apart flesh, bones and muscles. The sight of blood gushing out from the beast’s body excited him even more. As he pulled his weapon back, Surgit saw Gascoigne’s insides gushing out of his body. He then took his pistol out and shot the man twice in the head, the only part of the beast’s body that hasn’t been affected by the cleaver.

He slowly walked towards the hunter’s axe and took it, throwing his cleaver on his back in the process. The beast was drawing its last breath but it was still trying to stand up. Surgit elongated the axe and held it with both hands. He brought the weapon on the beast’s head with such force that he split it in half. “Well, there is a brain inside this grotesque skull after all,” he shouted as he brought the axe down on the beast again. He hacked at the corpse multiple times until he felt satisfied. He had finally brought down the nemesis that blocked his progression towards the Cathedral Ward.

‘Blood! Sweet, sweet blood!’ shouted the echoes.