Blood Drunk Hunter (Shadow Slave/Bloodborne Fic)

After spending some time regaining his sanity, Gehrman started to put together a rough plan. Unfortunately the "roughness" was quite severe. In all of the plans he created the likelihood of death was significant. It didn't help that this whole "nest" thing was unknown. 

In fact, even though he suspected that this place was the home for the army of nightmarish locusts, he couldn't even be sure of that. He was now in the Dream Realm, and the laws of reality that he had gotten accustomed to were useless. The Flesh Reavers looked like locusts, or maybe grasshoppers, but that didn't mean their nature was at all similar. The distinction of one being terrifying murder machines was evidence enough that no assumptions about these creatures' behaviors could be extrapolated from prior knowledge. The only information he could trust was the information he had gathered here, in the Dream Realm.

So, the truth was that it didn't matter what he planned, the only variable he could account for was chaos. Still, he had to do something. If he stayed for much longer he would pass out due to a lack of oxygen. 

Gehrman started cursing under his breath. His agitation and fear were amplified by the lingering madness. 

In his rage, the next time he brought the long sword form of the [Burial Blade] down, he did so with a great amount of might. The Flesh Reaver seemed to explode under the force, the shape of its skull became unrecognizable in less than a second. What's more, the force of the blow caused the very ground to crack and shatter. Leaving his blade embedded deep in the surface. 

He stared dumbly down at the damage. Then, a new plan was formulated. Leaving through the gate of corpses he had made would almost certainly lead to some form of injury, if not death itself. If he could carve out a new exit, then his chances would skyrocket. 

Then again, he had to actually create the tunnel. This was easier said than done. It was only with a great amount of will that he had managed to create an indent in the course material. Whatever this place was made out of, it was no less mighty than stone itself. In fact, it might have been even stronger. 

After taking another locust life, he turned and with great intention, thrust his blade into the wall. Unfortunately, though the force was the same, for some reason the impact did not have the same effect. The blade was stuck in the wall again, but no crater was formed. 

A growl escaped Gehrman as his emotions surged. How am I supposed to live through this? Isn't the Spell supposed to give me a fair chance? Any other dreamer would have been dead several times over!

Indeed, killing one Awakened Beast as Dreamer was noteworthy. Killing dozens was almost unheard of. This slaughter perpetrated by Gehrman already put him on par with some of the most legendary figures in the history of the Spell. 

Of course, this was to be expected. Gehrman had decades of experience to work with. He had put his life on the line for a hunt thousands of times. It should be expected that he would overpower and outdo any teenager, no matter their skill or backing. 

Thus the Spell was balancing his outrageous existence. If he could kill dozens of beasts, then he would be forced to face hundreds. This logic was in line with how the Spell had acted in the past, pushing people past their limits to achieve greatness. 

However, Gehrman had hit his limit long ago. 

He was hurt, he was tired, and surrounded by blood that was constantly threatening to tip him over the edge of madness.. On top of all of that, he was running out of essence…

Essence…

When had he used his essence? Gehrman had summoned Memories, but that would not have put him in his current state, where nearly half of his supply was depleted. 

He quickly ran over his descent into this pit and the last couple of developments. The obvious answer was the creation of the crater. It was a clear anomaly. There was something deeper still though. However, even after reviewing everything, he could not pinpoint any moment where he could have spent that much. It was almost as if it had been drained this entire time…

It hit him then. 

Something that had been overlooked due to the overstimulation of information that came with his entrance to the Dream Realm. 

His Dormant Ability.

[You are one with the blood. The very essence of life runs hot. While it does, it will heed your call.]

"Runs hot…" Gehrman gritted his teeth. He had been using essence this entire time. The persistent heat that kept him moving, that enhanced his strength and explosiveness, was the subconscious activation of his Dormant Ability! The blood in his very veins was being reinforced and accelerated, allowing him to keep up with Awakened creatures despite his lesser body.

Of course, this was a great feat. Gehrman was pleased to know that he seemed to have an instinctual and practical application of his ability already hardwired into his body. However, it had been wasting essence! Keeping up this enhancement indefinitely was not practical nor efficient. 

As he continued to keep the dreaded creatures away, he focused on the new primeval force that had become one with his very being. He tried to turn off the circulation of essence, but it was to no avail. 

Gehrman had a lot of experience in battle, but this was new ground. He was no better at controlling his new abilities than any other Dreamer. In fact, he was actually less adept than them since they had the chance to experiment and practice before being thrust into the Dream Realm. 

After trying and failing for two more minutes he eventually gave up. 

At this rate I will run out of essence in 30 minutes, but I'll likely run out of oxygen in a mere ten minutes. For now, I can't afford to be frugal. 

After making this grim resolution he shifted his feet as he waited a moment for the next prey to enter. 

Seconds later it poked through, but this time he did not immediately kill it. 

As he tried and failed to stop his rampant Dormant Ability, the thought struck him that the explosion was also likely tied to this ability. It was not only that his strength was enhanced, but also that he had willed the blood of the other creature downwards. In that brief moment when the blood was released from the creature due to a mighty blow, it ran exceptionally hot. Only then, whilst it floated in the air, could Gehrman take command..

Dismissing the [Burial Blade] and then summoning the [Uncanny Saw Spear], Gehrman used the momentum of the lunging locust to throw it in the wall behind him, then he stabbed through it. Simultaneously, he imagined the blood of the beast exploding in the direction of the wall, shattering it. 

The blood did not move while it was in the Flesh Reaver's body. The extension of essence Gehrman produced could not reach the insides of the Nightmare Creature whose rank surpassed his own. The will of the abomination, though weak, had a qualitative advantage over his own.

However, the moment the Saw Spear pierced the creature the essence and the still hot blood of the creature merged, and obeyed its master.

A thunderous sound was emitted, nearly causing Gehrman to stagger back. His maddened rage had fueled the force of the blow. His awareness of his ability augmented it further. The blood from his previous kills enhanced it yet again. His essence reserves were lowered again, reaching 45% .

Gehrman shuddered, a dry chuckle escaping as he witnessed the several new feet of land he had carved. 

The happiness was short lived as two new bugs had broken through. He threw the first into the wall with great force, it survived the impact, but it would not survive being skewered along with its brother in a single motion. This time, the bugs, and thus the crater, was on a diagonal. 

Trusting his instincts, Gehrman started to work upward. 

Climbing on the slope that grew longer and longer with each brutal kill, Gehrman started to have doubts. His reserves were quickly dwindling. The oxygen was draining even faster now that he was getting farther from the source. The Flesh Reaver's were coming faster, and he was only able to dodge fatal blows due to his application of [Sixth Sense]. 

Then, just as hope was dwindling, he saw light. 

Gehrman took a deep breath as he finally felt the air of the Dream Realm for the first time. He had successfully created an exit from the nest. 

Turning to kill the following bugs, he started at the lack of prey before him. The Flesh Reaver's had turned and ran as soon as they saw the light of the outdoors. 

"Are you seriously afraid of the sun?" Gehrman couldn't help but taunt the beasts while cackling a bit. 

While he kept his guard up, he turned to fully appreciate the outside.

What he saw shook him to the core. 

It was nothing like Yharnam. It was nothing like the streets and shanty houses that the boy had grown up in. 

It was a desolate wasteland. The ground was an unnatural black. The sky was cloudless, yet oppressively grey. Tall pires of red coral towed over the land. Some of these coral batches formed together to create a sort of structure. 

The nest Gehrman found himself in was of a lighter shade, but similar material to the abyssal ground of this apocalyptic scene. 

Long pieces of coral intertwined with the nest, supporting it. It appeared as if this place had been built around this specific coral batch, forming a strange and beautiful shelter for the locusts. 

After a few moments, Gehrman's senses warned him of danger. Not imminent danger, but the sense that something was wrong. 

If this is a wasteland, why were the Flesh Reavers so insistent on avoiding it? Do these creatures actually have a weakness to sunlight or is there something else?

The thought gnawed at Gehrman as he watched the pale sun start to set. As it did so, the sense of imminent dread grew. 

Gehrman considered going back inside the nest, but he would be far too vulnerable there, he had to find someplace else that would allow him to recuperate. 

The land was at least 80 meters below, the tallest pinnacle of the coral that wrapped around the nest was only 40 meters.

In this situation, it was actually easier to go up. His instincts told him that this was the correct path as well. 

After thinking for a brief moment, Gehrman dismissed the [Uncanny Saw Spear]. Then, he tried to focus his essence on his hands and feet. While he couldn't yet dismiss this enhanced state, it did seem like he could control it. 

His hands and feet burned as the blood in these areas boiled with strength and ferocity. Grunting, Gehrman tried to jab his hand into the wall of the nest. A loud crunch was heard, and a great amount of pain flooded him. "AHHH! MOTHER F-" The curse failed to come out as he recentered his focus. New blood had been brought forward, and his gloves stained from the inside. Then, they hardened into dense, short nails. 

He allowed the gloves from his [Hunter Attire] to dissipate, and his new, deformed and unsightly hands were free, digging about one inch into the wall of the nest. Gehrman once again groaned, knowing this extraordinarily painful strategy would actually be the best option. 

Then, he prepared his other hand, and both his feet for the climb. Cursing profusely, sharp deep red nails extended from each of his fingers and toes. These nails then pierced the outside of the wall. It was first Gehrman's hand, then his foot. He swung his body and managed to land fully outside of his escape hole. His newly formed hardened blood kept him from falling to his death. 

And so, he started to climb. 

The nest was shaped like a sphere, with the bottom half supposedly beneath the obsidian colored ground. This was good news for Gehrman as the further he climbed the easier the climb became. 

Eventually, he would transition to the red coral, hopefully climb it till its highest peak, and then sleep. 

"At least I don't have to worry about oxygen anymore," Gehrman's ragged and breathy voice graced the world. As if in response, the world replied with a roar so deafening that Gehrman nearly lost his balance. 

To his horror, when he looked below, he saw something he couldn't believe. Water, pitch black water, seemed to be covering the entire ground, as far as the eye could see. 

And that evil-looking water was rising.