Chapter Text
Content: Lore has been altered slightly (or a lot) to support the story. Lets go lesbians lets go! Bad ending.. doomed lesbians… anyway, fingering and other lesbian sex stuff. Also reader dies, but yall know how my stories go <3. Suicide at the end. Terminally ill reader :(
You’re sick, far too sick to leave.
The cot creaks and groans under your weight as you cough violently, feeling your lungs ache and your ribs rattle. You put your hand up to your mouth, coughing into it and then pulling away, noting the blood staining your hands skin. However, that didn’t bother you now, it happened all the time so it was really nothing concerning.
Just what have you done to be stricken down like this? It started about a month ago, when you fell ill. It was nothing too concerning at first, just some coughs and a headache. You thought you were simply coming down with a cold or the flu, so you didn’t go to see a doctor, thinking it would pass on its own.
It didn’t pass, and only got exponentially worse. Whatever the disease was, it was spreading through your body like a wildfire. Your coughing got horrid, and it always felt like you were coughing up a lung. And then you began to cough up blood, and that’s when you decided to rush to the doctors for a diagnosis and possible cure.
Of course, they welcomed you in and put you in a patient's room. There they kept you, giving you medicines and monitoring your condition. But the medicine didn’t do anything to alleviate your pain and deteriorating body. The disease began to attack your muscles, eating away at your legs as they got weaker by the day. Until, they became too weak for you to walk.
Your skin began to take on a sickly hue, and it became terribly weak, bruising at any slight pressure and staying purple’d for days on end. You were in the hospital for weeks, feeling as if you were dying in your bed.
But one day, a strange man, who you recognized as a Healing Church member, came into the hospital and began to speak with your doctors. You couldn’t exactly figure out what they were conversing about, but the doctors sounded frightened.
After a few moments of muffled conversation, the door to your room was opened and in walked your doctors with the strange man coming in behind them. They told you that you were being moved, and to take what you wanted to bring.
The only possession you took was a handful of books, your favourite books. They helped you into a wheelchair and the strange man began to wheel you away. He was silent the entire time as he brought you around the ward and onto an elevator.
You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the strange man, and you wanted to ask where he was taking you but just talking felt like your throat was being cut open from pain. So you simply stayed silent and kept your questions to yourself.
He took you up another elevator as you both got higher up in the ward. Until, after passing a blooming lumenflower garden and up, yet again, an elevator, you arrived where he wanted to put you.
You passed by a golden plaque, engraved with the words ‘Research Hall’ and entered into a massive building. This Research Hall was multiple floors high, a twisting staircase in its centre connecting the floors like a spiders web.
The sounds of doors opening and closing, distant talking, clinks of medical tools, and rolling wheels made their way into your ears. As he moved you around the Hall, you read other plaques plastered on the walls.
The plaques read certain names, most likely of important doctors in the hall, a few plaques had the words ‘surgery’ on them and another handful were numbered, definitely patients' rooms.
He took you up one last elevator and to the second highest floor, before wheeling you into one of the numbered rooms. It was a large room lined with beds, only separated by soft blue curtains between them. There were clearly other patients in here, as you could see some lying in their beds or hear them whispering behind their closed curtains.
Until he came across one empty bed, and helped you out of your wheelchair and onto it. And it’s where you are now, one of your books splayed out on your lap as your eyes read over the familiar passages.
You’ve read your books from front to back about ten times each by now, and they were starting to become terribly boring. Of course, you could pull back your curtains and try to talk to your roommates but they weren’t the best people to have a conversation with.
You read the same page over and over again, sighing heavily before closing the book and placing it on a small, bedside table. You instead take to fidgeting with the blood transfusion needle stuck in the bend of your arm.
The doctors hated when you did that but what else was there to do? You scratch and fiddle with it as you feel the smallest sting of pain and wince. The transfusion needle has been given to you the first day you came, and it’s sort of helped so far.
You weren’t coughing as much as before and you weren’t nauseous all the time, so that was a plus. But the needle gave you such a terrible nightmare the first night you slept with it in. Even now it makes goosebumps crawl up your back.
But messing with your needle quickly lost its value, and just before you were about to go back to reading your book, a loud voice interrupted you.
“Oh Lady Maria! You’ve come!”
The voice is cheerful and almost sounds relieved. The shout had quickly set off a chain reaction as more voices joined the chorus.
“Lady Maria! Please come to me!”
“Lady Maria, Lady Maria! I’ve something for you!”
“Please talk to me!”
The shared room was quickly becoming far too loud and you heard a ‘shhh’ come from someone, most likely from that Lady Maria that they shouted about. Almost instantly, the room fell silent but the atmosphere of tension and excitement remained.
You can’t help yourself from peeling back your curtains and peeking out to see the object of the ruckus. However, you could only catch the faintest of a glimpse of this ‘Lady Maria’ before she disappeared behind a patient's curtains.
You let go of your curtains and let them fall back as you lay on your cot, disinterested now. Maybe this ‘Lady Maria’ was just some entertainer that the patients truly adored. Picking up your book again, you crack it open and begin to read.
However, your reading time is cut short as your curtains are unceremoniously pulled back and you jump in fright, looking up to see who did it. It’s a young woman, dawning a hunter's attire. Her skin is pale, her hair such a soft blonde it’s almost white, and tied back, and her eyes, the brightest blue you’ve ever seen.
She sees your surprise, “oh, did I scare you? My apologies.” She apologies, her voice is accented, an accent you don’t recognize but it sounds particularly soothing.
She smiles at you as she brings a chair to sit next to your bed, “I haven’t seen you before.” She keeps the small conversation going, but you know it’s going to be mostly one-sided. “I am Lady Maria, and you are?”
You aren’t sure if you want to answer, not because you aren’t sure of her, but you don’t want to hurt your throat. Well, maybe you can use your voice just this once. “(Name)” your voice is weak and strained, clearly pained.
Maria lightly cringes at the sound of your voice, “ah, I understand. You don’t need to speak if you wish not to.” Well that’s a relief. She goes silent as she thinks of something to say, looking you over.
“Hmm, I wonder what exactly it is that ails you.” She says, keeping her gaze on you. “You are not like the other patients in the hall, they are not as sick as you are.” She looks pitiful. “Ah, I have an idea. Please give me a moment.”
She says before getting up and leaving your bedside, vanishing behind your curtains. You can hear her footsteps leave the room, and feel the tension of the other patients awaiting their turn with her.
It takes only a minute for her footsteps to come back and for her to peel back the curtains, revealing her holding a notepad and a pencil before she outstretched them to you, wanting you to take it. “Here, so you won’t need to strain yourself.”
Taking the notepad and pencil, you look up at her in mild shock. She was certainly kind, and treated you much better than the doctors in the hall. The doctors hardly did anything for you unless it was vital for your health.
You begin to scribble on a blank page and turn it to present it to her, with two simple words on it. ‘Thank you!’
Maria smiles, “your welcome.”
It feels like you have a new way to express yourself with no pain as you turn it back to yourself, immediately scribbling a question on it before turning it to her. The question. ‘I don’t recognize your accent, where are you from?’ is written hastily on the page.
“I am from Cainhurst.” She answers, “it is not a common accent, I understand why you cannot recognize it. I’ve been told it is soothing to listen to.”
You nod, agreeing and she lightly laughs. “I am glad you agree. I’d hope it wasn’t scary, I wouldn’t want to frighten the patients.” She jokes with you and you have to keep from letting out a little chuckle, it would hurt otherwise.
But you can’t keep it in as you laugh, but it’s cut off suddenly as you begin to cough violently. Your chest pushes in as you take in gulps of air before continuing the coughing fit, feeling as if your throat was being torn apart as you put your hand up to your mouth. The moment you finally stop, your hand is covered in your blood.
Lady Maria looks at you in concern, before she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a white, pristine handkerchief. “Here, use this to clean it off.” She offers. You look at the handkerchief, it’s a clearly expensive one with subtle silver embroidery. You don’t take it.
“Please, I do not need the handkerchief. You need it much more than I do.” She gently takes your hand to pull it over to her, your bloody palm face up. Just as she's about to clean off the blood, she looks at you. “Ah, I should ask, would you be fine with me cleaning your hand? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
You nod once again, accepting her kindness. She looks back down to press the handkerchief against your bloody palm, seeing the blood immediately soaking up into the fabric. It’s material was so soft, like nothing you’ve felt and the gloves she wore were rough but her actions so gentle. You could tell why the other patients so badly wanted her attention.
She finishes cleaning up the blood, and looks around to dispose of the bloody handkerchief before she throws it into a disposable bin next to your bed which was mostly empty because you hardly used it. And to your disappointment, she lets go of your hand and you bring it back to yourself to begin writing down on your paper.
Turning the page toward her, it reads. ‘Thank you again, you are very kind. Much better than the doctors here.’ Your handwriting is a bit messy, it felt like you couldn’t write fast enough to express how you feel.
“So I’ve been told,” she admits. “But I think of myself not as kind, but as normal. It is no effort for me to be merciful and kind.”
As you go to write a response, her gloved hand comes to rest on your arm. “I think we have discussed enough of me, I want to learn more about you.” She says and you stare up at her for a moment before smiling and nodding as she asks a question. “Where did you come from? You don’t look yharnamite to me.”
You write your response and show it to her, ‘I am not a yharnamite, I come from a city far away. I came here for the blood healing, I heard it works wonders.’ it was true, you aren’t a local Yharnam resident and it was evident in your features.
“That is quite interesting, I haven’t met a foreigner in a long time.” She says. “I do hope you are enjoying Yharnam, it can be quite the city at times.”
Writing a quick scribble, you show it again. ‘I am enjoying it, yes! Although the locals aren’t the friendliest to me, I’ve gotten tougher skin. I hope I’ll get better soon, I want to return to my normal life.’
Noticing the transfusion needle in your arm, she comments. “Do not worry, I am sure you will be healed soon, the blood will help you greatly.” She reassures you and you can’t help but feel a little more happy about your situation. “Ah, speaking of your ailment, what exactly plagues you?”
Your pencil writes quickly, feeling as if the words weren’t being transmitted fast enough from your racing mind. ‘I am unsure of it, and so are the doctors. I’ve already lost the mobility of my legs, I hope I’ll get them working again.’
“I’m terribly sorry.” She says, feeling bad for your predicament.
‘Don’t stress yourself out about it, you didn’t do it. Ha-ha.’ you write the laugh you so badly wanted to let out at your own joke.
Maria giggles, “you are right about that.” She pauses for a moment, before looking at the curtains and sighing. “Again, I’m sorry but I must go, the other patients want to speak to me.”
You nod in understanding and watch as she gets up, taking her chair with her and just as she’s about to leave, she looks back at you. “Would you like me to come back tomorrow?” And needless to say, you accept with a smile. “Goodnight.” She says as she vanishes behind your curtain, and hearing her footsteps walk to the other patients.
Snuggling into your bed, you put the notepad and pencil on your bedside table and let out a heavy sigh of happiness. You were beginning to become depressed with this monotony, repetitiveness, and fear of the Hall so Lady Maria was a greatly welcomed change in your schedule.
Your cot feels much more comfortable than it was before as you stare up at the ceiling, thinking of tomorrow. Right now, she was really the only thing to look forward to in here, or to wait for. The essence of sleep drowns out your other senses as you let yourself go, sleeping comfortably for the first time in many nights, on your cot.
It felt like the hours stretched out so terribly as you sat in your cot, twiddling your hands anxiously as you waited for Maria to come. You aren’t exactly sure when she’ll be back, but she came around this time yesterday, maybe she’ll come at this exact time.
The clock ticks as seconds go by, and it only makes it feel like time is going by slower. It was dinner time, so all of your roommates had left already to go eat while your food was delivered to you. You suppose that was a plus, they wouldn’t be vying for Maria’s attention and you could talk uninterrupted.
You reach over to your nightstand and grab your notepad and pencil, twirling the pencil in between your fingers. A few notes had been scribbled on the page, mostly questions to ask Maria. Such as: ‘how was Cainhurst like? Are you a hunter?’
On second thought, that question had an obvious answer and you crossed it out, looking at your other miscellaneous questions such as favourite things and maybe what she does all day. She must be very busy.
Hearing the door to the room creak open makes you look up, excited. You had moved your curtains to the side just to see if Maria was coming in, and to your luck you can see her familiar figure walking over to your cot.
You smile up at her as she comes to the side of your bed and speaks. “I’m sorry I was late, I have been very busy.” She quickly apologies, and you can smell that strange waft of beast blood. And you can see a bloody weapon equipped on her back. But it looks like she tried to wipe off as much blood as possible.
Flipping over to a fresh page, you scribble down your response. ‘I understand and that’s fine, there’s no one to interrupt us so we can talk for all your free time.’
Maria looks around, noting the absence of the other patients. “I’ve noticed, and where have they gone?” She says, a bit confused on why the room is suddenly empty.
‘They are eating, I have my food given to me here.’ You write before turning the page back to you, writing more. ‘It’s rather lonely, I’m glad you're here.’
Maria smiles, “I’m relieved I can ease loneliness. Now we can talk, could I ask questions about you first?” She asks.
You nod and wait for the questions, pencil poised to a blank page.
“How long have you been here?”
‘A few weeks by now, entirely in this room’ you write.
Maria hums, her face looking a bit concerned. “That must be terribly boring, isn’t it?”
‘It is, it feels like I’ve been trapped here for ages’ your writing is a little sloppy as you quickly write but it’s eligible. ‘Usually, I’m all by myself’
“I’ll be visiting much more often, so you needn’t worry about that last part.” She smiles and that glimmer of hope flutters in your chest.
‘I’m glad!’ You smile but the smell of blood clinging to her distracts you. ‘Did you just get back from a hunt?’ The hunts were a relatively new-ish thing by now, but everyone has become aware of them.
An embarrassed blush flushes over Maria. “Yes I have, is the blood distracting? I tried to get as much off as I could.”
‘The smell is a bit strange but I can bear it.’ You write.
Maria hums, not exactly believing you. And to your surprise, she brings her hands to start taking off the long, draping coat which was what produced the odour. She takes it into her hands and folds it neatly, setting it on the floor beside her.
The smell was a lot less noticeable now, only catching the tiniest of whiffs. “Is that better?” Maria asks.
‘You didn’t need to do that.’ You feel a bit bad.
“It’s alright,” she says, noticing that look of guilt on your face. “I wanted it off, it is quite hot in here.” She smiles.
‘If that’s what you wanted.’ You write and shrug your shoulders and something suddenly worms itself in your brain. Quickly scribbling down, you ask her a favour. ‘Could you tell me about one of your hunts? I just want to hear a new story, I’ve already read the ones on the page, could I hear one from you? If it’s fine with you.’
Maria takes a moment to read the note. “Ah, a story about one of my hunts? How unexpected” She seems a bit surprised at the peculiar request and visibly thinks for a moment, racking her brain for a story to tell you.
“It’s a bit of a long one, if you are alright with that.” She says and you nod, excited to hear a story. “I was still under the guidance of the Beast Hunter, Gherman. I had only begun to hunt, and I was not as skillful as I am now.”
You patiently listen as she tells her story, imagining the details in your head. She continues to speak. “It was my first hunt, and I was excited to begin. My first beasts fell easily, torn by my blade.” She seems a bit proud. “But as the night went on, I became more confident in my abilities.”
She pauses to remember more details. “Either for the better, or the worse.” She lets out a small laugh. “I had challenged a hulking beast, I thought I could hunt it by myself.” It almost sounds like a cautionary tale. “But I was wrong. I was not prepared to handle a beast of that strength.”
‘What did it look like?’ You write.
“Hm? I am not the best at descripting.” She hums before looking at your notepad. “Perhaps I could illustrate it? If you’ll let me.” You can easily tell she wants the pencil and notepad and you give it to her.
She takes them and flips to a fresh, blank page and begins to scribble. You lean over to see what she’s drawing but you can’t exactly make it out. It’s clearly big, and it has horns? Or are those lumps? You raise your brow, confused when she presents it to you.
Taking the notepad and pencil back, you take a closer look, maybe you’ll figure it out that way… nope, it was still just a bunch of scribbles loosely making up a shape. You flip to a page and write, ‘I can’t make this out.’
This time, it’s time for Maria to be confused and she leans over, flipping the page back to her drawing. She points, “that was the beast's horns.” They look more like a mangled mess of twigs. She points again, “and this was its claws.” One of them was tiny, the other obscenely large.
‘That’s not what it looks like to me, it just looks like scribbles’ you write on a different page. Maria looks a little embarrassed.
“I am not the best at it.” She admits, looking away. “Ah, but I should continue with my story.” She says, changing the subject. “The beast nearly killed me, I got in over my head and thought I would come out victorious.”
As she speaks, you flip to a new page and decide to try and recreate what Maria drew. Of course, all beasts had canid-like features, so you began with its face.
“It proved me wrong, and unfortunately I had been hurt by its claws.” She suddenly pulls up her sleeve, revealing her shoulder which was marred with a large scar. You gawk at it before she puts her sleeve pack down. “Gherman had to lend me his aid, and in the end the beast fell.”
She smiles, remembering. “He got quite peeved with me afterwards,” she says, stifling a laugh. “I had learned, harshly, that day, to not be so overconfident.” She ends her story.
To your luck, the moment she finished her story was the moment you finished your sketch. Turning it around to her, a small note on the side asks, ‘did it look like this?’ And she leans in to get a good look at the rendition.
“Yes it did,” she looks awe’d. “You have quite the hand.” She compliments your art and you feel a little fuzzy in your chest.
‘Thank you, I’ve had plenty of time to practise.’ You were already a good artist before now, but with all this free time you used it to hone your skills further on spare papers the doctors forgot about.
Turning the paper back to you, you write again. ‘Could I hear more stories?”
Maria smiles, “of course. We have the rest of the day, and I have many stories to share.”
It felt like the days blurred together with Maria around. She was always right next to your bed, hardly leaving your side. She only ever left to speak with other patients or for the night, or the occasional chore. But it was mostly only you and her, and you only got closer with each other.
You often found yourself having to hold in a laugh or just having a great time whenever Maria was around. The worries of your world had quieted when she was around and the pain of your body went silent.
The feeling of your leg moving a bit reminds you of the good news you wanted so desperately to share with Maria. Lately, you have been getting better and better and haven’t felt terrible in a while. While you still couldn’t talk without pain, the doctors told you you could start therapy to walk again.
And so far, you’ve been able to hold yourself up just for a bit, with some help of course. Maybe you could take a walk with Maria today? You sure hope so.
The sound of the room's door opening and familiar footsteps makes you perk up, leaning out to see beyond your half-closed curtains to see if it’s her. And sure enough, it’s Maria who comes eagerly to your bedside.
‘Maria, it’s good to see you’ you write. It’s been a few days since you saw her. ‘What have you been doing all this time?’
“I have been attending to some duties in Yharnam. Terribly sorry but they kept me far busier than I thought.” She quickly apologises, remembering how she missed the day she promised you she would be back.
‘It’s fine, I understand. You’re a very important person, I would be more confused if you had a free schedule.’ You write, unintentionally flattering her.
“Thank you, but I’m not the important person.” With how pale her skin is, it’s easy to see the dusting of pink in her cheeks. “I was attending with Gherman, he is an important figure.” She tries to stay humble.
‘Not to me. You are very important to me.’ You write and stun Maria for a moment as the blush on her cheeks only gets more prominent. And to which she takes off her hat and uses it to cover her face.
You audibly laugh, visibly shocking Maria as you don’t immediately burst into a coughing fit. It reminds you of the great news you wished to share. ‘I almost forgot to tell you.’ You write and catch her attention again.
Flipping to a clean page, you begin to write a small paragraph. ‘The doctors have told me that I’m getting better. They said I’ll be able to talk again, I really can’t wait. And the best part, they told me I’ll regain the mobility of my legs in a few weeks time. It’ll take less time if I do my exercises too!’
Maria takes a moment to read the entire note before her face lights up and she quickly puts on her hat before she engulfs you in a hug suddenly. Her hug is crushing for only a moment before she remembers to be gentle.
Your eyes widen in surprise but you put your hand on her back and pat it, smiling softly to yourself. Surprisingly, even with all that gear on, she’s quite comfortable to be held close.
“I’m so glad.” She near whispers, trying to hold in her emotions. “That you’re feeling better.” She slowly pulls away, smiling at you as she sits on the edge of your cot. She has to take a visible breath to keep her held-back emotions in check.
‘I actually want to ask you a small favour.’ You write.
“And what would it be?”
‘I want to exercise my legs but I’ll need help. If you're alright with it, could you help me get up?’ You had more trouble with getting up than walking. You outstretch your hand, waiting for her answer.
Maria nods, “I’ll be glad to help.” She takes your hand, her tough gloves feel so strange against your bare skin. She begins to pull you up, making sure not to hurt you while doing so.
You swing your legs to dangle off of the bed and Maria moves to put your arm around her shoulder and her other hand wraps around your waist to support you.
Slowly, you begin to slide off the bed and your bare feet touch the cold, wooden ground. But the sudden weight of your body causes your legs to momentarily give out as Maria strains to lift you back up. It takes her a moment but she helps you stand as you lean against her, feeling how weak your legs are.
You want to apologise for nearly dragging her down with you, but you don’t have your pencil or notepad as it lies on the bed. Besides, one of your arms is wrapped around Maria, so you really wouldn’t be able to write anything.
“There, can you stand?” She asks as you steady yourself. Your legs buckle, struggling with your weight but you nod and take a step. Maria steps with you, feeling you put your weight against her to not fall over. When you try to take another step, she attempts to step with you again but your leg gets tangled in hers for a moment.
You both stumble and lean to the left as you both try to keep from falling over, only succeeding in getting further tangled and stumbling around the large room, nearly hitting a few objects. Maria hits a wall and finally stops moving around, her grip is tight on you, not wanting you to fall.
Maria laughs lightly, “you told me your legs are getting stronger?” She jokes and you playfully hit her. You take a cautious step forward, and this time Maria doesn’t tangle her leg around yours. You both take more steps, starting to get into a small flow of walking in-tune with each other in order not to drag the other around or trip up.
With each step, your legs got better with carrying your weight. Even if they still wobbled and ached the slightest, you didn’t lean on Maria as much. You slowly walk to your cot, Maria still supporting the weight you couldn’t bear. Reaching down with your free hand, you pick up your pencil and notepad.
You look at Maria and hand her the notepad, to her confusion. “What is this for?”
But when you press the pencil against the blank page, she figures it out. ‘I need you to hold this while I write, I can’t carry both of them.’
“Alright, I’ll do that.” She keeps the notepad held out so you can keep writing.
‘I want to go somewhere.’
“Where do you want to go?”
‘Anywhere, I just want to get out of this stuffy room.’
“Let’s take a walk around the hall.” Maria suggests and you wouldn’t mind that s you put the pencil away, indicating your done talking and she puts the notepad to hang on her belt.
She takes a few steps, making sure you're in sync with her before she starts to walk normally with you by her side. She walks to the door and opens it, going through with you. When you finally leave the room, it feels like an immeasurable amount of relief flows through you.
It’s been so long since you’ve been outside that room, that you nearly forgot just how grandiose in size the Research Hall was. You walked closer to the railing, Maria by your side. Peering over the railing, it’s almost dizzying with how high up you are. You remembered you were on the second to last highest floor the moment you looked down, so it came as a friendly surprise.
On the other floors were doctors walking around, patients mingling and surprisingly, some people dawned the garbs of the Healing Church as well. Numerous doors opened and shut, the occasional medical assistant wheeling something or someone out or in. It really reminded you of how alive this place is. Being trapped in that room for weeks on end, really distorted your view.
And now that you're out, it fuels your need for more. You suddenly take a few steps back and turn, surprising Maria as she has to quickly sync her walking with yours.
You begin to walk to the left, taking your time and looking around the floor. Golden plaques with doctors' names engraved on the top of certain doors, or numbered patients' rooms pass by you and Maria.
Maria can see how excited you are and she smiles, “I know you're excited, but I think you should slow down.” She comments, noting how fast you're trying to walk.
You start to walk slower, taking in her recommendation. A few patients walk past both of you, some of them looking at you weirdly for leaning so much on Maria. But you happily wave to them, being in such a good mood.
You take out your pencil and Maria takes your notepad from her belt, holding it out so you can write. ‘There’s not much on this floor, can we go downstairs?’ You put back your pencil and Maria puts the notepad back on her belt.
“Yeah, there are not many things to see on this floor.” She should know, she’s been all around it countless times. She begins to walk with you into a room where she knows an elevator is, but she suddenly stops, feeling a tug as you keep your feet firmly planted on the floor, refusing to move.
“Is something the matter?” She asks and then she notices you point to the stairs. “You want to use the stairs?”
You nod, wanting to exercise your legs further and, you admit, to impress Maria that you're getting stronger. Strong enough to go up and down the stairs and not have to always use the elevators.
“Hmm, are you sure? It might be too much strain.” She says, a bit worried.
But you stick with your decision and give her a little tug, confirming you wish to use the stairs. Maria gives a small sigh of defeat but goes along with it as she begins to walk with you to the start of the twisting staircases.
Maria takes the first step, and she holds you a bit tighter as you step down with her. For a moment, your legs buckle and she rushes to hold you fully with her free hand but you put your own up to stop her, and balance yourself seconds after.
You give her a thumbs up, showing your fine. Maria’s hand lays over her chest, right over her racing heart. She smiles, stifling a small laugh. “You’re going to make me faint.” She says, referring to how badly you're worrying her now.
You take another step and she does as hell, you both take your time stepping down the stairs. Each time your knees buckled the slightest bit, Maria rushed to possibly grab onto you if you fell, but luckily you didn’t.
Reaching the centre of the web of stairs, you step onto the platform. That small descent made you a little exhausted, you haven’t exerted yourself in so long that a walk down the stairs is strenuous.
Maria notices your breathing, “do you want to continue or would you like to stop?” She feels like she’s going to get grey hair because of this.
Putting up your pencil, Maria immediately takes out your notepad and holds it out for you. You write ‘I want to continue, I’ll be fine.’
She walks with you to the next descending staircase and you both begin to slowly make your way down without any obstacles in your way. Your feet touch the cold ground floor, and you look around.
A large door stands at one end of the building, closed tightly but it’s clearly the door leading to the outside. The prospect of going outside after all of these weeks excites you and before you know it, you're walking to the large door with Maria by your side.
Other patients wandering the ground floor look at you two, tilting their heads in confusion. The door gets closer and closer and your excitement only grows as it does so. However, the sound of pounding footsteps and a shout of.
“Stop!”
Makes you both stop in the middle of your tracks and crane your necks to look behind you, where the shout came from.
A doctor, an older man comes running up, out of breath as he gets in front of you and Maria, putting his hand up to stop you from both getting to the door. He takes a few seconds to regain his breath and straighten his back before crossing his arms over his chest, his face turning into a scowl.
“Lady Maria! Just what are you doing?” The doctor looks like he’s going to blow a gasket with his red face.
“Ah, Doctor Abram.” Maria says, recognizing the doctor. She holds you a little bit tighter. “I was helping (Name) with her exercises, to help strengthen her legs.” She gives the honest truth, although you can tell she is a bit tense.
“Yes I see that.” He grumbles angrily. “But I’m asking why are you trying to leave the Hall with a patient? Have you been given permission? I doubt it. Who is her main doctor?” He harshly questions her, and you can’t help but share that tenseness Maria has.
“We were simply going to take a small walk around, we weren’t going to go far.” She sounds a bit ticked. “And I am unsure of her main caretaker.”
Doctor Abram’s brows furrow and he continues his glare. “You know the patients aren’t allowed outside, Lady Maria.”
Maria goes silent, and an uncomfortable feeling pits in your stomach as they glare at each other. Doctor Abram speaks up, sounding like he won the small argument. “Take her back up. Fail to do so and we won’t allow you back into the Research Hall.” And with that, he takes his leave, looking all too condescending.
She turns to you, looking sorry. “I am sorry, (Name) but I have to abide by the doctors orders. Would you like to take the elevators back up instead? I know you're tired.” She holds out your notepad for your answer.
Scribbling your answer on it, it reads. ‘I want to use the stairs again, please.’
Maria looks a bit unsure but relents, putting the notepad back on her belt before turning around and walking with you back to the beginning on the stairs. She takes the first step and waits for you to follow, feeling how you use her as a support. Going up the stairs is much more strenuous than going down them, that you had to admit.
You nearly stumble up a few stairs but you keep yourself mostly up right. The first flight of stairs goes by easily, and as you go up the second flight you signal you want to write, taking out your pencil. Maria holds out the notepad again and you write. ‘That doctor was terribly rude.’
“Yes I agree, Doctor Abram isn’t the most pleasant to be around.” She grimaces lightly, remembering other encounters she had with the rude doctor. “We’ve had our share of disagreements. I have a feeling he has a vendetta against me.”
As you're halfway up the stairs, you write a question. ‘Why aren’t the patients allowed outside?’
To this, Maria stays silent for a few seconds but responds. “The doctors don’t want their patients to wander off, it could be dangerous for them.”
You aren’t really satisfied with that answer but don’t pry as you continue up the stairs, a saddened look etched onto your face. You really wanted to go outside today, and now you were told that you can’t leave at all?
Maria notices your expression, and an idea pops up in her head. She stops moving and you look at her, confused. “Are you still able to walk, just for a little longer?”
You nod, wondering why she asked. She turns to go back down the stairs and to the middle base. You turn with her, following her down and she then turns to instead go for a staircase, much longer and going higher. At the top of a staircase is a large door, cracked slightly open.
Through the crack, you could clearly see the sky, becoming darker as the moon began to rise, its light peeking through. That's when you remembered, there’s a lumenflower garden on the premises that the patients are freely allowed to go to!
Maria could see the realisation dawn on you, and your saddened expression was replaced with a happy one as you tried to rush up. She easily kept up with you, noting that you're stumbling much less and are actually moving at a normal walking speed.
You both ascend up the long stairs and eventually reach the large doors which were just open enough to squeeze through. The cool breeze is the first thing that hits you, gently flying through your hair and rustling your patient's gown.
The sight of the lumenflower garden makes your jaw go slack in awe. The moon was just rising behind the garden, and in the centre of the blooming flowers stood one, tall and huge lumenflower gazing upwards and clearly healthy.
Maria steps next to you, noticing how your legs wobble the slightest bit. Perhaps you've had enough exercise for today. She starts to walk, pulling you along to a bench nearby the garden.
You can feel the exhaustion finally catch up to you as you sit down, letting out a deep breath. Maria sits next to you, sitting close to make sure you don’t accidentally hurt yourself. Her hand holds yours, squeezing it gently.
The silence that follows is a comfortable one. The only sounds that come to your ears are yours and her gentle breathing, the wind blowing, the rustling of the lumenflowers, and to your surprise, the sounds of night life in Yharnam.
People talk and shout, dogs bark, wheels of carts hit the ground. The sound of life after weeks of nothing is almost overwhelming, making you take in another deep breath and let it out a few seconds later.
The stars in the setting sky twinkle and shine as the moon rises higher and higher. The wind gets a bit colder and a shiver goes through you, and you shuffle closer to Maria and rest your head on her shoulder.
Maria stiffens, turning to look at you. Your eyes are closed, and a peaceful look settles on your face. She relaxes, and her hand intertwined with yours squeezes it once more. And in response, your hand squeezes hers.
For a while, you keep your head resting on her shoulder with your eyes closed. It was all so peaceful that you could nearly fall asleep, but you didn’t want to burden Maria with possibly carrying you back to your room. So you try your hardest to stay awake.
Maybe writing to Maria will keep you awake. You take out your pencil and reach for your notepad buckled onto Maria’s belt and easily take it off. She feels the small tug and watches as you write.
‘It’s been a while since I could gaze on the stars.’ You start simple. ‘They are very beautiful tonight. I hope to see more stars in the next few nights.’
“Yes they are quite bright tonight. I heard that tonight or tomorrow, there could be a shower of shooting stars.” She adds, keeping her eyes fixed to the glowing stars above.
‘That would be something to see, falling stars.’ Your writing goes a bit off of the line, as your eyes were too busy watching the night sky. ‘I hope we can see them tonight, if not, maybe tomorrow night.’
Maria looks down from the stars and to her feet, lightly biting her lip as a wave of guilt overtakes her. She turns to you. “I forgot to tell you. But I will not be here tomorrow, nor for a few days.”
‘Why?’ You write, feeling a bit saddened.
“I will be embarking on a mission, as ordered by the church.” She looks like she wants to say more, but keeps it there.
‘To where?’
“I’m sorry, but I’m not allowed to say.” She looks back up at the stars and another silence settles, although this one has a tinge of tension built into it.
A streak of light quickly going across Maria’s face makes you look up, wondering where it came from. And in the darkness of night, another star falls, zooming by in a spectacular flash of light. Looks like you got lucky, and could watch the stars with Maria.
You watch for another flash of light and it only takes a second before another star streaks across the sky, then followed by another and that one was followed by another. Soon, the sky looked more like a rain of stars, shooting across the sky.
Their tails of light whizz by, and it’s a beautiful sight. It feels like all else is obsolete and nothing but you and Maria exist under the night sky. Your hand keeps a tight hold of Maria’s.
For a while, you both sit and watch the shower of stars in silence. The sounds of crickets chirping somewhere in the large lumenflower garden, the breeze of the wind, and Maria’s breathing are all that reach your ears.
“Mar..ia..”
A voice, your voice, weak and strained from underuse makes Maria snap her head to look at you, clearly surprised. Your throat is pained, but you continue speaking.
“I am… so grateful.” You take a breath. “For all th..that you’ve done.. for me.” It almost feels weird to speak and not write.
Maria is stunned into silence as you continue. “Hopefully… when I am better, we can.. still be friends, maybe?” You ask, smiling up at her.
She is silent, and for a tense moment you're afraid she’s going to say no. But being pulled into a tight hug confirms her answer, her arms wrapped around you, squeezing you.
“Yes, when you are better. We will remain friends.” Maria says, her voice a bit muffled as her face was slightly buried in your patient's gown. And luckily for her, you couldn’t see her eyes turning the slightest red and puffy.
Your hand pats her back, enjoying the hug. “I’m glad…” you wince a bit from the pain of talking, but you’ll bear it for her.
The hug feels like it’s all too short and when she pulls away, you feel your mood dampen just a bit. In the darkness of the night, it’s hard to see her face but you can make out a small smile on her lips.
The falling stars begin to slow, having gaps of time before the next one falls. Finally, the last one, with a golden tail, travels over the sky and signals the end of the beautiful show.
Holding your throat, you grimace from the burning pain of talking. Picking up your pencil, you write on your notepad. Although, writing felt much more limiting than talking now. ‘I think we should go back, it’s getting late. I don’t want the doctors to get mad at you again for keeping me out so long.’
You stand up first, your hand still holding on to hers as she gets up just seconds after you. Your legs are a little sore, but you can walk the rest of the way back, with a bit of her help of course.
You walk with Maria in silence, squeezing through the crack in the large doors. Once you squeeze in, Maria shuts the door and the sound of it closing echoes throughout the quiet Research Hall. You both cringe at the loud sound, tensing up for a moment. But when no one comes out to get mad, you both relax.
Going down the stairs, you take the lead this time. It’s much easier as you go down. Reaching the middle section, you feel a great pain in your knees and you hiss in pain. Maria comes to hold you up.
“Are you alright?” She sounds concerned.
You try to wave it off, as a way of saying you're fine but as you take a step to another upper staircase, the sharp flares again. You must’ve worn out your legs going down and now it’s just hitting you.
“Here, let me help.” She doesn’t wait for an answer, not like she needs one. Her hands come around to suddenly lift you and you gasp in surprise. Before you know it, you're being held bridal style in Maria’s arms.
You grip at her shoulders, afraid of falling for a moment before calming down. You're rather surprised that she carries you so effortlessly. Well, she is a hunter after all and they are always on their feet and moving around.
Maria begins to ascend the staircase up to the second to last floor, where your room would be. As she carries you, you avoid any eye contact, feeling a bit flustered. It feels painfully long until she reaches the top of the stairs and turns to open the door to your room.
Taking a glance around, you notice that many of your roommates haven’t come back yet, which was odd, you all had strict schedules to adhere to. Maria carries you to your cot, setting you down gently, hearing it creak as she does so.
You make yourself comfortable on your cot, feeling tired. Taking your notepad and pencil, you write to Maria. ‘Thank you, you quite surprised me by picking me up.’ You stifle a little laugh.
“My apologies, I should have told you beforehand.” She says, mentally noting it down if she’ll ever need it later. She looks around, and her eyes land on the large, standing clock.
She looks back at you, and you both know what she has to do. “I must be going now.” She feels a bit disheartened saying it. “I do promise to come back once my mission has been fulfilled.”
‘I hope it goes well.’ You write. ‘Goodnight, Maria.’
“Goodnight, I will see you in a few days or more.” She hesitates, but turns around and begins to walk away.
That's when the crushing feeling of loneliness presses down on you, and it ignites a sense of fear. Most of your roommates are gone somewhere and haven’t come back, and it’s terribly quiet. You’ve grown accustomed to the sounds of the nights, occasional sniffles and coughs or hushed talking. So the pure silence makes you uneasy.
“Wait!” Before you can stop yourself, you shout out for Maria to which she abruptly stops and turns around. Your throat stings, but you motion for her to come back as you write something.
‘I’m sorry, but could you please stay?’ You write and Maria sighs.
“If I could stay, I would do so.” She puts her hand over yours. “But direct orders from the church, I cannot put off or disobey.”
‘Then, could you just stay for a little longer? Until I fall asleep?’ You mentally cross your fingers.
Maria looks at the clock again, and hears it chime midnight. She often doesn’t get many hours of sleep, only an average of five or four hours. Maybe, sacrificing just one wouldn’t hurt.
“I will stay, but only for the hour.” She states, “or until you fall asleep.”
‘Thank you, Maria’ you write. You really didn’t want to be alone in this dark, isolated and terribly quiet room.
Maria settles herself in a chair next to your bedside and you get comfortable in your cot as a silence falls over both you and her. Even if you were originally scared of the silence, just knowing her presence was near calmed you greatly.
You stare up at the ceiling and in the corner of your eye, you see the tip of the feather from her hat occasionally jerking up. You look over to her, noticing that her chair doesn’t have a back rest. It must be uncomfortable.
Grabbing your notepad again, you flip to another page, taking note of the few pages you have left. You’ll have to ask for another soon. You write, ‘is the chair uncomfortable? You can come on the cot with me.’
Maria shakes her head. “It wouldn’t fit me, and I would not want to take your bed from you.”
‘Maria, please.’ You write, staring into her hypnotising blue eyes. ‘We will both fit. I want you to be here with me, please come up.’
Maria looks at the note and then to you, and lets out a sigh. She takes off her hat, setting it on the nightstand before she stands up and makes her way over to the opposite side of your cot. You scooch over, giving her just enough space.
She hesitantly sits down, hearing the cot groan under the added weight. It’s as if she’s afraid of possibly breaking the bed. She kicks off her boots and puts her legs up on the bed, and finally lays down beside you.
However, the cot is rather small, so she is practically snuggled up against you but you don’t mind it. Your hand comes to hold hers, feeling the familiar fabric of her gloves. It’s nearly second-nature to you now, to hold her anyway you can. And for her, to hold you anyway she can.
Before you can hold her hand, she suddenly pulls away and you're confused but it washes away as you see her pull off her gloves, putting them on the nightstand where her hat lays. She then wraps her hand around yours, intertwining her fingers with yours.
Your head comes to rest against her shoulder, and it feels like a much better pillow, even if it’s coated in harsh leather. She moves a bit closer to you, and you're pressed up against her. The warmth of her body is the replacement for your blanket, and you just want to bask in it further.
You aren’t exactly sure of what you are with Maria, it’s hard to tell. Maybe to the outside observer, it’s obvious but to you, it’s confusing. You were just her friend.. maybe.
Maria suddenly begins to shift and you lift your head from her shoulder, watching as she slides off her thick coat, taking it off and letting it fall to the ground with a thump and clatter. She lay next to you, only in her pants and undershirt.
Maria was definitely quite the beauty, it was evident the first time you met her. But seeing her now, she’s as beautiful as a carved, marble statue. She can feel your eyes on her and she locks hers onto yours.
You quickly look away, writing a quick ‘sorry.’ On your notepad with your free hand. The tension in the isolated room is getting thicker with each second, and heat blooms in your lower stomach.
A hand, gently caressing at your face makes you turn back to face her. “If you’d let me.” She brings her face a little closer, “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
The choice is yours, but it doesn’t come easily to you. If you accept, you’re unsure of how far it will go and it will be your first ever time. If you reject her, how will it affect your strange relationship with her? And will the opportunity ever present itself again?
But her hands, rough from perceived years of hunting, are so gentle with your fragile skin. Her warmth and presence so comforting, taking away the fear of the world. Your skin burns with want, and you just want to breathe all of her in.
You nod, and only a fraction of a second later her soft lips are pressed against yours. She’s gentle and slow, ensuring every second of the kiss is enjoyable. She breaks apart after a few seconds, letting you catch your breath before resuming the sensual kiss.
Again, she breaks apart and instead of resuming, she lifts her undershirt off and absentmindedly throws it off onto the floor. Your eyes scan her form now, only in her bra and pants. The abs on her stomach catch your attention, and then her muscled lean arms.
So strong, yet so gentle. And like handling a porcelain doll, she wraps her strong arms around you and lifts you to sit up. You wonder what she’s doing until you feel her hands fumble with something behind your neck.
Oh, it’s the little tie for your patient's gown. She tugs on the tie, and it undoes itself as your gown goes slack. Her hands come to take the gown off of you, and put it onto the ground. She takes in the sight of you, bare underneath her except for your underwear.
Her hand trails up the side of your stomach, stopping at your chest and then going to feel at your breasts. A trail of goosebumps erupts on your skin and your breath hitches.
She moves her face down to kiss at your cheek, all while slowly groping your chest, most likely testing the waters. It's faint, but pleasure ripples up your spine, further igniting your arousal.
You reach around Maria, and feel at her bra and find its clasp, unhooking it and causing the bra to fall off her, freeing her own breasts. She continues to kiss at your cheek, before trailing down your neck.
Maria’s hand moves from your chest, to cup your opposite cheek and her breasts press against yours as she brings her warm body closer. Her legs come to straddle your waist as she stays on top of you, but making sure not to press too much of her weight on you.
Her kisses pepper your neck, and heat rushes to your face. Your hands trail up her back, feeling her muscles beneath your fingers and they eventually reach her hair, digging in. Her hair is so soft, that it allows your fingers to easily glide through and undo her ponytail.
You take a breath, speaking softly to not hurt your throat. “Maria, please.. kiss me again.” You beg, and she places one last kiss on your neck before turning to meet her lips with yours. Your hands stay tangled in her hair, nearly pulling on it with want.
It appears she rather likes it as she deepens the kiss, and moves one of her hands to trail down your stomach and eventually reach your thighs. You shiver, feeling her hand slip under your panties and tease at your pussy.
When her finger grazes up between the folds, you unintentionally let out a moan and open your mouth. She takes the opportunity and takes the kiss further, her tongue exploring your mouth. You simply need even more, and she knows it.
Everything she does, still holds that careful gentleness as she slowly inserts her finger inside your pussy. She brings her head back, separating from the kiss as a string of saliva connects between your lips and hers. Her eyes stare into yours, with what you could describe as a loving gaze.
She pushes her finger further in, and you shiver but she stops. “Are you alright to continue?” She asks, her voice low and with the slightest husk. When you nod, she slowly inserts a second finger.
You take a hitch of breath and cover your mouth, not wanting to be loud just in case someone is passing by the room. It feels strange, but so good. Her fingers feel around, slowly pushing themselves further until the knuckle and staying still, waiting for you to adjust.
You practically burn like a fire with want and Maria can tell as she slowly moves her fingers in and out. Your muscles tense with pleasure and another wave of goosebumps crawl up your back. You're quickly becoming greatly wet, allowing her fingers to move smoothly.
Maria comes down again, kissing your cheek as she continues slowly moving her fingers, curling them up when she goes out. Another kiss on your cheek feels so good, and you can hear her warm breath against the side of your face.
Your hands still explore her silky hair, feeling how a few strands tickle the sides of your face. Maria presses further onto you, and you gladly welcome her. A fleeting feeling of a knot tying in your lower stomach makes itself known to you.
Maria continues her slow pace, only curling and pressing the slightest bit harder on your g-spot. Her free hand comes down to press on your lower stomach, only further intensifying the knot and you nearly cry out.
She kisses you again, and the knot unravels itself. Your muscles tense up and you cry into the kiss, feeling yourself orgasm over her fingers. It feels so good, but it feels even better as Maria breaks away from the kiss and goes to whisper in your ear.
“Would you want to go for another?” She whispers.
“Please.” Is all you say, and all she needs to hear. She pulls away completely, and you can see her form through the moonlight that spills into the room. Her muscled body has faint scars peppering her skin. From numerous hunts no doubt.
You watch as she uses her hands to unbuckle her belt and slide off her pants, kicking them off to the ground to join the pile. She then pulls down her panties, and lets them also join the pile of clothes on the ground.
She’s so beautiful, and you subconsciously hope for more views like this in your future. And you hope to feel her love further, once you are better. Her hands come to hold your thighs, spreading your legs apart.
She trails her hands up and down your thighs while she positions herself, and finally pressing her pussy against yours. She lets out a hefty breath, relishing in the feeling as she sees you squirm underneath her.
Maria bends her front body to squish against yours again, her arms wrapping around you and her breasts pushed up with yours. Her hands adjust your legs and you get the memo, wrapping them around her waist.
It’s much easier to grind against you this way and she begins to do so. Her own wetness combined with yours makes it even more easy as she grinds, feeling her clit rubbing against yours. She breathes heavily, letting the pleasure sink into her body.
You pull her the slightest bit closer with your legs, and enjoy it as she moves back and forth. Moans escape from your mouth no matter how much you try to hold them. But Maria has a solution as she kisses you again.
You immediately open your mouth, letting her delve further into the kiss. Her body continues to grind against yours, every thrust forward bringing bliss and pushing you further into your second orgasm.
It’s getting hot and flashes of sweat coat your body and hers, giving the slightest hint of shine on her skin in the moonlight. The combined wetness of you and Maria makes warm juices fall down your thigh, further adding to the heat.
Her clit slides against yours again and she moans in delight, focusing on sliding against it again. With how sensitive you are from your previous orgasm, you can’t help but squirm and cry out in pleasure. To hell with it, who cares if anyone hears you two?
Your muscles begin to tighten and that similar feeling builds again, as you try to pull her even closer with your legs even if she’s as close as she can get. She captures your mouth again in a heated sloppy kiss.
Saliva drips down your mouth and onto your chin due to the greedy, lustful kiss but you don’t care. Maria seems to be approaching her own high as she grinds faster, her chest heaving with exhausted and heavy breaths.
Tears brim in your eyes from the stimulation, unable to keep them in as they fall down your cheek. Maria wastes no time in wiping them away, and moving to kiss your cheek. Your mind and hers have already drowned out the rest of the world, and only you and her exist in the tender moment.
Maria comes back up, arching her back as she grinds a few more times and finally climaxes and you follow suit. She moans out in delight and you can only muster a soft, exhausted cry as your body shakes.
She keeps pressed against you, feeling the high of the climax slowly wearing off and her mind returning to its level-headedness. She gently untangles herself from your legs and stands up on her own wobbly, and tired legs.
Maria looks you over, seeing how your chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to regain stamina. “Oh, I must’ve been too hard.” She mutters, cupping your cheek with her hand.
You turn your head to look at her, your eyes half lidded and struggling to stay open. Maria smiles gently, “you need your rest.” But you hesitate on sleeping, knowing when you wake she won’t be there and will be gone for a bit.
Maria can see your hesitation. “Don’t worry, I promise to be back. It will only be a handful of days.” She leans over to kiss you on the forehead. “But I will come back.”
The exhaustion is hard to fight against, and your weak body already struggles with nearly everything so it’s not long before you finally let your eyes close and your head rest against your pillow. The worries of the next few days melt away in your dreamless slumber.
Maria watches your sleeping form before she covers you with your blanket, ensuring your warm. She then takes her clothes from the discarded pile on the floor and redresses herself, being careful not to wake you with the noise.
She pushes the curtains surrounding your bed open just enough so she can step out, and she takes one last look at you before closing the curtains completely and walking to the door of the room.
In her mind, she hopes her mission won’t be too long, she’d hate to break her promise.
When Maria opens the large, creaking doors to the Research Hall, she’s greeted with pure silence. No sounds of distance chatter, doors opening or closing, wheels rolling over wood. Just pure, uninterrupted silence.
But maybe that’s better for her, it’s better than the haml- she recoils at the thought, feeling terribly sick in her stomach. Or maybe, she’s terribly sick in the head… but she knows one thing, she’s a terrible person.
Her footsteps echo in the huge building, the sound being the only thing to pierce the thick silence. Her feet drag on the floor, and her back is stiff. It’s hard to feel, it’s hard to think. She adjusts her gloves, not daring to look at the bloodstains coated on them.
Her eyes are wide, and staring into nothing as she slowly walks around the building and before she knows it, she’s at the twisting stairs. She begins to ascend the first flight, each step adding a weight of guilt on her back.
Oh, what has she done? She’s a horrible person, no, she’s more of a beast hiding in a human's skin. Her beloved rakuyo is long gone, the blade that she cannot bear any longer. She feels like she’s going to throw up.
The stairs creak under her weight, but she keeps going. It was orders, orders from the church, she had to do it. She couldn’t disobey, could she? Maybe she should’ve stopped after the first villager perished, and refused to go any further.
But no, like an idiot, she went further and became a blood-thirsty murderer. And worst of all, she dare mutilate the washed up body. Thinking of it is painful, and she clutches her head, trying desperately to block it out.
She reaches the centre, where all the stairs connected. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but her feet take her to where she subconsciously wants to go. She starts to climb another flight of stairs, the stairs to the second highest floor of the hall.
Will you ever look at her the same again? She doubts it. She’s a beast now, who doesn’t deserve to bask in a lover's presence. She fears she might hurt you, but she can’t stop herself from going back to you.
She reaches the floor she wants to be on, and it’s still so horribly quiet. She walks slowly to the room she’s come to be so familiar with and turns the knob, pushing the door open. It creaks as it opens fully, but nothing inside the room reacts. Usually, she’d see you poke your head out of your curtains to see who’s coming in.
However, there’s no movement at all in the room. In a haze, she begins to move in and passes by multiple beds, clearly unoccupied for days on end. They are left in a tattered state, as if the patient left suddenly and no one bothered to fix the sheets or move personal belongings.
The curtains around your bed are closed, and she reaches to peek inside. Your bed is empty. But she hardly reacts, too jaded to let the panic rise in her. She pulls back the curtains and goes to your beside, just staring at the empty and cold bed.
For a long, painful moment, she just stares. She can’t feel anything, but she knows emotions are trying to dig themselves in as she feels them fleeting. But she doesn’t want to feel, not right now.
Something on your nightstand catches her attention, and she looks over. It’s your notepad, your pencil laid beside it. How odd, you wouldn’t leave it, it’s your only form of communication without pain or struggle.
She moves to look at it, grabbing it and lifting to read it. It’s on the very last page.
‘Hello, Doctor Abram.’
‘Surgery? But I thought I didn’t need any.’
‘I don’t know Doctor, maybe I should just wait to heal naturally. The other doctors say that I’m on course to be okay.’
‘I’m not arguing with you doctor, surgery just sounds so sudden.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off as rude.’
‘When will it be?’
‘Today? But shouldn’t I have fasted-‘
‘Sorry.’
‘Yes I’ll stop arguing.’
‘Were going now?’
‘Wait, but where’s Maria? She said she’d be back in a few days.’
‘Can’t we wait a while longer, I want to see her.’
‘Please.’
‘Please.’
‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Okay, I’ll be ready in a few minutes.’
The note ends there. She can only guess what the doctor said, and the flicker of fury eats at her heart. She sets down the notepad, staring at it and re-reading each line that you wrote. It still holds that haste you always wrote with.
Turning around, she pushes through the curtains. If she knows something, the evidence of where you could be would be in the surgery rooms. She feels dread well in her very soul as she exits the room.
She walks across a few doors, but her head remains low, staring at her feet as they walk. Then they stop, and she knows she’s where she wants to be. She looks up, seeing the engraving of ‘surgery 5’ on a plaque.
… she doesn’t know if she wants to enter, and possibly learn a truth she dreads, or leave it and live in falsehood. But her hands turn the knob, and push open the door.
The room is like any surgery room, a metal surgery table in the middle with straps on it. Trays on carts, littered with bloodied medical tools lay scattered about. A few footprints on the floor remain, showing the last movements of doctors walking around.
The table is bloody, and the straps were clearly struggled against. She doesn’t want to learn the truth, but her body will betray her mind as a file sits on a desk. Her feet take her to look and read the file.
‘Patient name: (Name).’
‘Submitted for: Unknown debilitating disease, confirmed to be non-contagious.’
‘Known family: none presiding in Yharnam.’
‘Patient was transferred from Yharnams general hospital to the Research Hall under the premise of better treatment and direct order of the church. Patient has been kept for up to two and a half months, as they research the disease.’
‘Patient will be used for experiments in an attempt to commune with the great ones. More time is needed to understand the patient's condition, and if it will aid the transformative surgery.’
The page ends there and she flips it to read further, already feeling sick to her stomach.
‘Patient has been improving health wise, and is showing more energy. She has taken a liken to Lady Maria. Talk is to separate them as soon as possible, although this is debated.’
‘Patient has been scheduled for surgery within the week, do not let the patient receive any more treatment.’
She flips it one last time, reading the date in silent horror. It’s the day after she left.
‘Patient did not survive the transformative surgery, and is deemed a failure. Body has been disposed of.’
‘Note: patient bled a profuse amount, blood was oddly pale and collected in multiple viles. Viles have been sent for safe-keeping.’
‘Additional note from Dr. Abram: The patient will not be reported as a missing person. As far as anyone knows, they are a foreigner who left Yharnam. Note inside the note, when Lady Maria returns, do not let her in the patient's room. Infact, bar her from entering the Research Hall altogether.’
Maria stares at the note, re-reading the first line over and over again. It’s not true, it can’t be true. But the evidence stares her in the face. The blood coating the surgery table, the highly stained tools, and the clear marks of a struggle on the leather straps.
You suffered, and was dealt a painful death.
And she wasn’t there for you, she’s broken her promise, and it cost you your life. And for the first time in countless hours, an emotion breaks through the grey slate that she was. It is regret, in its ugliest form.
She doesn’t even know she’s crying until the soft ‘plop’ of her tears hit the ground. Her throat feels like it’s being torn to shreds, and her heart aches horribly. She drops the papers to the ground, and they land in dried puddles of blood.
Turning around, she exits the room, tears still falling from her eyes. She made no sound, no hiccup or cry of despair, just pure silence. She knows what she must do now, and that it’s the only thing she deserves.
Her feet take her to the highest point, passing by the lumenflower garden which has already begun to wilt and die. But she dares not look at it, not wanting to remember anything.
She feels her wrists, and pinpoints where the blood flows. She feels her neck, and finds an artery. The doors to the clock tower are pushed open, and she steps inside. The only blade on her is a small knife.
But it will do the job. She deserves this.