It was a beast, as his mind had always imagined beasts when he used to read old stories back at school. It looked like a werewolf, furry and with deadly fangs. Its hands had long sharp claws and to top it all, it had two bull horns protruding from its head. Its body was one of a muscular tall person, big chest and chiseled abdominals. It was walking towards him, breathing heavily and preparing for the attack.

It stopped a few paces from Surgit and bared its fangs. It let out a scream then held its right arm in the air, as if holding an imaginary object on it. Soon after, a fireball appeared on the beast’s hand, growing bigger every second. The beast flung its arm towards Surgit and the fireball was propelled towards him at full speed.

Surgit jumped to the side on time and the ball hit the pile of sacks, reducing them all to ashes. He looked at the impact of that demonic attack and understood that he could not allow himself to be caught by one, lest all his effort be for naught.

He dreaded making that descent once more, unless he was forced to. And he wasn’t going to be forced into it by that beast. Another fireball was hurled towards him and Surgit dove to the ground to avoid it again. Then a third, aimed at him lying on the floor.

He rolled on the floor and watched as a big hole was carved out from the impact. He stood up as quickly as he could and jumped above another fireball. He landed behind the beast which was fast enough to turn and face him.

The beast was smarter than the other werewolves he had fought before and it swung at him even faster. He managed to dodge some of the swings and blocked others with his blade. The beast then used both its hands and performed a slamming attack on Surgit.

He had no time to dodge that one so he blocked the attack with his blade, holding it upwards with both arms. They stayed like that for what appeared to Surgit as an eternity. It was a fight of strength and endurance. If he gave up at that moment, he would be shredded by the beast’s sharp claws. He was glad that he had upgraded his strength and skill that much.

After a moment of struggling and pushing, the beast started clapping its sharp teeth towards Surgit. It could’ve chopped off his arm if it wasn’t concealed beneath the large blade of the saw cleaver. The beast finally let go of its tight grip on the weapon and Surgit didn’t let the opportunity slip.

With his left arm, he pushed his cleaver quickly in order to elongate it. The saw penetrated the beast’s chest, right above the abdomen and Surgit pushed even more with his arms in order to cut deeper.

He jumped back as the beast’s fangs missed his neck by a hair’s width. The monster was bleeding heavily and it was angry. It swiped its arm towards Surgit who felt the urge to jump back even if he was well away from the arm’s reach. A fire surged again from the beast’s palm and followed the trail of the swipe. ‘If I stood there, I could’ve been roasted by that fire’ he thought as he ran back towards the beast.

He knew that he shouldn’t leave too much distance between the two of them. Otherwise he’d be an open target for its deadly fire attacks. As the beast swung at him again, trying to force him to jump back and put some distance between them, Surgit slid on the floor and hit the beast’s enormous right hind leg. Blood rained on the floor as the beast fell on its bloody knee.

Surgit stood up quickly and held the werewolf hybrid by one horn, twitching its head sideways. The beast tried to fight back but with two injuries and the loss of blood it suffered, its efforts were weak. He retracted his saw cleaver to its original shape and proceeded to cutting the beast’s throat, slaughtering it as hunters should do to their prey.

He stood next to the beast’s corpse and tried to breathe steadily in order to regulate his heartbeat. That fight was exhilarating to say the least. He enjoyed winning difficult fights and he found himself craving them when things became too quiet.

Perhaps that was the reason he jumped down, knowing that he had no way to climb back up once he found himself on the lower parts of the tower. He heard the murmurs inside his head again: ‘Beast: You have acquired the rune ‘Beast’ by slaying one of their kind.’ Runes again, he knew that they had some kind of purpose and that they could be used. He also knew that he needed a special item in order to carve them into his mind back in the dream’s workshop. He just didn’t know where to find the item.

He proceeded towards a door he had seen from the corner of his eye while fighting the beast. He pushed the door and found himself back in the streets of Yharnam. The place where he stood was dark and quiet, eerily quiet.

He looked up and saw the tall buildings of Yharnam surrounding him wherever he looked. Lights were lit in some houses far up. The moon light couldn’t reach the street in which he was, only the lights emanating from the houses above provided some semblance of guidance, illuminating the ground for him.

Instead of the usual cobbles on the ground, Surgit was surprised to see that the road had been destroyed. Only few cobble stones remained, leaving way for dirt and ingrown grass. Every step he made appeared to be loud for him. His boots squished the grass or crackled the dry floor. His breathing, although faint, appeared to be louder than a machine working at full speed.

He walked among the deserted buildings and empty houses. No living soul was to be heard or seen in this lower part of the city. Surgit found himself in an intersection, a road taking left led towards a bonfire in the distance, while the one on the right looked dark and grim. He took to the left, knowing full well that he’d encounter whatever had lit that bonfire on his way to it.

Halfway through, he saw a tall man, cloaked in black and wearing a hood that concealed its face. As he stepped next to the fire, his features became more apparent. It was no man but some kind of hybrid between man and beast.

It had a humanoid form but nothing else in its appearance suggested any other human trait in it. It had dark purple skin. Its hands were large and its fingers as long as Surgit’s forearm. Its feet were as big as his arm and its face was long. Its eyes were white, no pupils or irises.

On one arm, the tall man held what appeared to be a heavy bag dangling from its back. It pointed with its long finger towards Surgit and emitted a sound similar to a dog’s growl. The man disappeared and before Surgit knew what was happening, he was hit by the bag on his head. The impact was so hard that Surgit fell on the ground, smashing his head against the dirt. He started losing consciousness and felt that he was being dragged away, from his feet. ‘Beasts all over the shop…’ He thought of Gascoigne’s words before he passed out.