The Hunter's Dream Pt. 01

The rebirth hurt every time. He could still feel the slashes in his abdomen, the places where his limbs had been severed, the hole where Maria had stabbed him through the heart. Whatever she was guarding, it was important, but he couldn't face going into that room again. He needed time to collect himself.

Awakening inside the Hunter's Dream always came with a sense of relief. There was always an odd feeling about this place, and though it felt real he knew deep down that this was a new place, a different place disconnected from the world he fought, killed and died within. The shadow of the workshop ever loomed before him in the moonlight, a safe haven yet always sinister.

He breathed out a long sigh, placing the Threaded Cane back into its holster around his waist. It only ever gleamed and shined when he was here, and he enjoyed taking a second to admire its construction each time. Whenever he would leave the Dream, it would inevitable end up soaked in blood and viscera. He thought he'd be used to it by now.

He looked up and began walking up the stairs to the workshop. He hadn't seen the other two inhabitants of the dream yet; they might be inside, if they weren't morosely talking to themselves amongst the weeds and gravestones littered around the courtyard of the workshop.

"Good Hunter," came the voice of the plain Doll, a little more urgent than he'd expected. She usually remained quiet until he came to her to talk; she was very passive and shy in his presence, even after all this time. She alone possessed the power to give him strength, a power which had become essential in his journey, and each time she did, he felt closer to her. It was almost as if she had gazed inside his very soul, and knew his every thought, the way she touched him as he felt unseen forces coursing through his veins. She once told the Hunter that she loved him. He thought that was what she said, anyway.

She was stood by the fireplace, alone. There was something akin to apprehension in her porcelain features today - or was he imagining it? He wasn't sure if she could make expressions. She was beautiful, no doubt; behind the joints and the layered dress was the approximation of a lithe, slender young woman. She reminded him of someone. Was she designed to be this beautiful? Gehrman had built her, had he not?

"Where is Gehrman?" the Hunter asked, stepping close to the Doll and gently laying a gloved hand on her shoulder. She lay a cold hand on his and glanced up at his steely features, the eyes barely visible between his tricorn hat and face covering. He hadn't intended to appear intimidating, but the life of a hunter demanded a certain aesthetic.

"Dear Hunter," she continued, ignoring his question for now as she moved his hand from her shoulder, "we have a visitor."

A visitor? Who else came to this place? Was it another hunter? Surely Gehrman would...

"Gehrman, where is he?" he demanded again, this time grabbing the doll by the shoulders and leaning into her face. Her eyes,as always, were blank. They never showed fear. As she gazed back at him, another voice spoke; soft and feminine, but sounding younger than that of the Doll.

"The old man is not here" said the small figure walking up the stairs into the open doors of the workshop. Her face was covered by the wide brim of a huge, pointed hat. All the Hunter could see were four...four?...blue hands protruding from sumptuous robes, held in a contemplative prayer position.

The Hunter reached under his coat and placed a hand on the protruding grip of the cane at his belt. A finger gently caressed the trigger mechanism; two more steps and she would be close enough for the barbed whip, three steps would give him enough time to transform the weapon before she could attack him. His muscles tensed as his other hand slowly moved towards the handle of the huge blunderbuss strapped to his back. The intruder took one step forwards.

"There will be no need for that" she said, as one blue skinned hand pointed towards him. It was like she had read his mind, it had been less than a fraction of a second since his instincts had kicked in. He closed his grip, only to find no cane handle there. His other hand flailed pointlessly behind him as he realised the blunderbuss was also gone. Glancing around he saw them on the workbench, neatly arranged as if they had always been there. How?

"I was once called a witch by many from my world," she continued as she took another small step forward, as if there had never been nor ever would be a threat to her progress. Her confidence scared the Hunter more than her witchcraft did. Every step she took closer to them made his heartbeat rise.

"Now I am all things. But in recent times, I hast taken to one role in particular."

She now stood side by side with the Doll, holding hands with her. The Hunter hadn't even seen the doll walk over to her side, so transfixed was he by the power of this woman he had never met before. After Amelia, after Eileen, after Maria, he had vowed never to underestimate a woman again. Especially a confident one.

Looking at their linked hands, he saw gaps and joints in the intruder's blue hands that echoed the Doll's own artificial anatomy. This person, this powerful witch...was also a Doll? This could mean so many things. For now, he just stared and waited for whatever was going to happen. This was not his situation to control.

"Dost thou crave control, Hunter of Beasts?" she said, lifting her head and smiling directly at him. Her eyes contained the depth and wonder of the stars, like an infinite galaxy swirling within a blue-black abyss. He couldn't move from the awe of her countenance, and continued to stare back rigidly. The witch giggled.

"Thou canst refer to me as Ranni," she continued, as if her last question was a jest intended to make him uncomfortable, "I am now simply The Granter of Wishes. Tell me, Warrior of Yharnam...what is it thou wish most?"

He was taken aback by this question. He had never thought of things to wish for. What should a Hunter wish for? Was it for the night to end? That was his first thought but he knew immediately that he was lying, and he had a feeling Ranni did too. Part of him enjoyed the bloodshed, revelled in it. It was what he was born to do.

Perhaps he wished Maria dead? She was only on his mind because she had been the most recent cause of death and rebirth for him. No, wishes could not do away with Maria of the Astral Clocktower - only the weapons laid out on the workbench were fit for that purpose. Did he possess any other wishes? Any desires?

"Dost thou wish she was of flesh, like thou art?" said Ranni, tugging at the Doll's hand to bring her closer and gesturing with another arm, as if she were putting the Doll on display for him. As if she were for sale. Ranni smiled, caressing the Doll's chin with another hand and turning the pale, porcelain face to stare into her own, whispering gently, "She is beautiful. I can see why thou desires her"

A knot formed in the Hunter's stomach. He began to stammer, "No...no I never..." despite the fact that he knew very well what she was talking about. Had the Doll really said she loved him? The bestowing of power, the intimacy, the closeness they shared...was there anything more than ritual in that act? Did the Doll wonder the same thing?

"I...I have wished such a thing possible, yes" He said, his head bowed. Did the Doll think him a monster? She was the only woman he had known who hadn't been ripped apart, wasn't maddened by the blood and who wasn't trying to kill him. And she wasn't even a real woman. What did he desire? He felt a finger under his chin, lifting his head up to gaze into Ranni's eyes once again.

"I will make her yours. I will make her flesh."

This isn't happening. I will wake up again, reborn, in the Dream, the same Dream I have always known. This isn't happening.

"...and what is the price?" he said after a brief silence, his shoulders drooping. He knew witches, he knew rituals. There was always a price. At this question, Ranni giggled again.

"I hast been unlocking the potential of desire within both mortals and immortals for some time now. Empyrian, Tarnished, Maiden...all have felt things they never thought they could feel. It brings to me...satisfaction...to see such things awakened. I simply want the same thing for you and your...object of desire" she said, pausing as she regarded the Doll's serene expression, gazing at her as though she were a pet or a plaything. A brief smile flickered then faded from her lips as she turned back to face the Hunter, speaking much more plainly than before. "If there is a price, it is not decided yet. But know that one day I may come back to claim you. If that day should come you are beholden to me."

The Hunter paused, and nodded. Ranni nodded back, smiling.

"Then let us begin."

There was a bright flash, light was all that filled the room. The Hunter shielded his eyes unable to look in the direction of Ranni and the Doll. Before the flash he thought he briefly saw the Doll...floating? He could faintly hear Ranni murmering incantations as the air pressure in the room seemed to swell and swell. His ears were ringing, he couldn't take much more, then suddenly...

Silence. He opened his eyes. Ranni was gone. The workshop was as it had been before, his weapons neatly stowed away on the workbench, the fireplace cracking gently next to it. In the middle of the room, the Doll was slumped down on the floor, kneeling with her feet splayed out behind her. She appeared inanimate, as she was the very first time he saw her. As he began to walk towards her he saw...her face; it was different.

Her curved hooded cap fell to the floor, releasing her platinum locks of hair. Strands fell onto a forehead carved not from porcelain, but flushed with blood. Her skin was pale and glowed gently in the light from the fire, but it did not reflect the light in the same way as it did before. As her headpiece landed on the rug underneath her, she sighed. Her chest was visibly moving, visibly breathing. She raised a hand to her forehead as she came to, her fingers no longer jointed but...human. Ranni had done what she had promised.

The Hunter removed his begrimed gloves and offered her a hand. As her head turned to look up at his, he took in the sight of her eyes; no longer formed of glass, the irises revealing real, watery pools of depth and intrigue. She gently took his hand and gasped.

"Hunter...your touch," she sighed, her gaze looking back and forth between his face and his hand, "I can feel...warmth." Her expression was that of wonder as she placed her other hand in his, caressing his beaten and weathered skin with all ten of her fingers, drawing in the new sensations with wild fascination. He allowed her to explore the nooks and crannies of his hands, feeling the contrast between the soft flesh of his palm and the rough, scarred lumps of his knuckles.

As the Hunter pulled her to her feet, her dress loosely slipped around her shoulders; the magicks woven in the transformation must have damaged the fastenings of her clothes. The garments were tattered and worn, and looked as if they were going to fall apart. Elegant, ivory skin draped over collarbones and pale shoulders were revealed, without a joint or articulation in sight. The Hunter reached out and gently caressed her neck, the sensation of his fingers gliding down her smooth skin causing her to shudder. As her hands dropped to her sides, so did the rest of the dress and shawl, exposing a pair of small, pert breasts. The nipples were flushed and erect, excited by the everything she was suddenly feeling for the first time. As her clothes fell down her legs onto the floor, the sound of the Hunter's coat hitting the floor masked the sound of their impact.

Soon he too was naked, his rippling scarred muscle exposed in front of her. He gazed at her form up and down; the slight impression of a ribcage beneath her breasts, the smooth curve of her belly button leading down to her legs, her whole body as smooth and hairless as when she was an artificial being. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. From cold moonlight reflections to warm fireside illumination, she had become more than something he had desired. She was the person he wanted the most right now.

He felt something rising within him; not the beasthood, not the blood, but something altogether more urgent, more violent. He wanted nothing more than to pin her down and ravish her, but he cared for her too much. He wanted to love her. He wanted her to feel everything.

His hands explored her body, slowly at first but with more impatience as he became more excited at the sensation of her skin on his. He cupped her breasts with his hands, ran his fingers down the small of her back, clasped her buttocks gently then firmly, all the while pulling her closer to him.

"Good Hunter...what is happening...what is this...this f-" she uttered, cut short by a gasp.

She could feel him pressed up against her - could feel him, pressed up, against her. Where she was soft skin and tender flesh, he was rigid and hard as iron, pushing against her body like a long pistol in a holster, begging to be let out and fired. His palms were still drinking in every inch of her, until suddenly they met on either side of her face, a thumb gently caressing her lower lip, her face angled up to stare into his. She closed her eyes, from apprehension more than fear, from uncertainty more than anything else. Then his lips touched hers.

It was warm and dewy, his lips pressing against hers again and again, sometimes sucking gently, sometimes with his tongue peeking through her lips and touching her tongue. She sank into him, feeling the most intimate connection she had ever felt from this moment. Her bones buzzed with electricity, sending a wave that pulsed from her feet to her hair, making her spinal chord shiver as she felt like she would melt.

He broke off the kiss, one of his hands cradling her lower back as he forced her to lean backwards, off balance, her entire body entrusted to his grasp. He was kissing her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders, moving down towards her chest as he lowered her to the ground to lay on the pile of shredded garments that had fallen there mere moments ago. Every kiss, every touch of his lips to her skin was like a new kiss to a new lover. Her skin was impossibly soft and delicate; where once there had been cracked, crude porcelain there was only velvety smooth, supple ambrosia. With each kiss he tasted the hint of salty sweat, the glowing of her skin illuminated in the cracking firelight beside them.

He gently bit on one of her nipples, making her audibly gasp in pain. He licked around the nipple, sending new declarations of pleasure up and down her spine as he moved from breast to breast, each time greeting it with a kiss, gently biting the nipple before caressing it again with his tongue. Kissing between her breasts he began to slowly move down her chest, kissing with each inch of ground he covered. His hands slid down her ribcage, down to her waist and hips, grasping her gently as he traced his tongue around her belly button, moving ever further and further.

"Hunter...wait...what are you..." she began to speak between gasped breaths, her hands resting on his head but not trying to stop him. The way he was moving down her body, she didn't know if she could stop him, even if she really wanted to.

The Hunter had no way of knowing if the Doll had been built to be functional in this way or not, but Ranni's transformation had gifted her with all the organs a woman would possess. As he slid his arms under her legs, repositioning them to lay over his shoulders, he took no time to slide his tongue in between her untouched labia, taking in the taste of her, the feel of her, the warmth of her. The Doll was already slippery between her legs, ready and open for his tongue to glide up and down, in and out of her at his leisure.

As he continued to pleasure her with his tongue, the Doll began to arch her back, her thighs tensing up and threatening to squeeze his head between them. She felt something urgent but slow, rising but also squeezing inside her, like a dam slowly being filled, ready to burst, like a volcano being sped up to its eruption at any moment. The electricity returned, tensing her core muscles as it raced up and down her nervous system, the sensation of his tongue almost becoming too much to take. She wanted to explode, to surrender, but the feelings were so new she didn't know what they were going to feel like. Did she want him to stop? She didn't know. Minutes before this, she had been a plain doll, an oversized toy, an object without feeling or desire. Now she was...so much more.

The Hunter suddenly stopped. The Doll looked down to see his face coming to meet hers, hitting her with a sloppy kiss. The kiss tasted...different. Was that how she tasted down there? She wasn't given time to think; whilst he was kissing her she could feel something trying to enter inside her.

The opening to her new vagina was being stretched wider and wider as the Hunter began to gently push himself into the opening between her legs. She couldn't see what he was doing as he continued to kiss her; It was warm and slippery, but also painful. Nothing had ever been inside of her before, certainly no man or his organ. She moaned behind the kisses, gently trying to push him away from her just so that she could see what was going on, but his hips were beginning to gyrate, gently thrusting himself further and further inside of her, stretching her more and more the deeper he went.

She felt the head penetrating deep inside her, being pulled back a little bit before pushing forward once more. He wasn't going to stop until the entire shaft was buried within her. She gasped, overwhelmed by the mixture of pain and pleasure, the heat and sweat of his body mixed with the taste of his kisses.

His hands grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the ground as he lifted his body away from hers. She was damp, her face glistening with saliva, her breasts dewy from sweat, but she was still the most desirable thing he had ever laid eyes upon. The feeling of her tight vagina around him sent a shock through him, from the tip of his penis all the way to the base of his spine. Every time he moved within her, he felt like he would burst. He could see her face contorting with discomfort, but she also writhed around with her back arched, shivering more and more each time he withdrew and thrust again.

"Good Hunter...please..." she began, between moans and gasps, but she found herself unable to say more. The Hunter bent down to kiss her neck as he thrust again, this time burying his entire length within her. She let out another moan, biting her lip as she squeezed her eyelids close again. He slowly pulled out of her, and then another thrust, as deep as possible, his groin audibly smacking against hers as it sent a shock up her body. Her legs were curled around his lower back now, his hands still pinning her wrists down. Again, another thrust. Another moan. Slow withdrawal. Another thrust, harder and harder each time he gyrated against her, penetrating her with more and more force each time.

He could feel her ankled loosely rubbing against his back as he slammed into her again and again, each time feeling closer and closer to erupting deep inside of her. Whatever had taken over him was in control now; like a beast, he was completely obsessed, possessed by a primal drive to fuck her harder and harder, until he couldn't possibly move and more. Each time he penetrated her he moved faster, thrust harder, tried to push even deeper inside her. She was the most amazing thing he had ever tasted, touch, felt, fucked.