He awoke next to the lantern again. Karla was fast asleep next to Gilbert’s house. Although she miraculously recovered fully from her injuries, she would still need to rest for a considerable amount of time. Iosefka had told him as much. Curiosity had taken the better of him and he went to ask the doctor about his sleeping friend. She had told him that in spite of the fact that her muscle tissues had reconnected, her body still needed time to recover and heal the internal damage she had suffered.

Karla wouldn’t even budge or move after he appeared next to her. He tried to wake her and check up on her but she just wouldn’t awaken. He decided to leave her be. He had other pressing matters to attend to. That hunter had beaten the living daylight out of him. He had to go to a completely new area without any preparation or any healing items. That was clearly stupid. Iosefka had given him another one of her vials on his last visit to her clinic. The doctor was a lifesaver and benevolent one at that. He looked at Karla and scoffed at her. She mocked him for being too naïve but if it weren’t for Iosefka’s miraculous blood, she would be eternally sleeping by then.

He had to get more vials but didn’t know which blood would have the healing properties he wished for. After the conversation he’d had with Karla, he dreaded the consequences of imbibing too much blood that emanated from the beasts slayed. He had ten empty vials in his pocket. The man-beasts he faced in the streets of Yharnam had blood that didn’t seem to affect him too much.

Perchance it was because he was a hunter who had already received blood ministration. Blood that emanated from certain beasts healed and invigorated him. He needed to have enough healing blood in order to face that old lunatic. He knew what he had to do. He went to the street which led to the crucifix square. He killed the axe wielding man then finished the six that patrolled the street. He had filled his ten vials when he heard the voices again: ‘Why don’t you kill that executioner over there? It would certainly be a good exercise before your next battle.’ He pondered for a moment then another voice spoke: ‘the fool is too craven, leave him be. He just wants to pound at the weaklings that roam the streets.’

That was enough to convince him to face the executioner. At first sight, the beast resembled a troll. It was a troll that wore an executioner’s hood and wielded a giant executioner’s axe. All in all, the sight alone could drive any sane man to turn tail. As soon as the monster saw Surgit, it brought its axe closer to its chest. It was on the defensive and that was a good sign for Surgit. He got closer and made to attack his foe.

Despite its size the executioner’s attack were very fast, too fast in fact. Surgit welcomed the giant axe with open arms as it hit him straight in the chest. He knew that his body had departed the ground and with his only open eye, he could see blood raining down on him. ‘Heh…heh…heh… foooool’ echoed the voices as he his unanimated body fell to the ground.

He woke up again next to sleeping Karla. That last encounter left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. “Damned voices… You really had to go and listen to them, didn’t you Surgit?” He shouted at the top of his lungs. He kicked a wall near him and winced as pain calmed his frenzied state. He looked in fear at Karla. She already suspected him of being a beast. He didn’t want her to think of him as a lunatic either. He sighed in relief since his outburst didn’t even shake her from her slumber.

He still had his ten vials and didn’t even have the chance to use one against that executioner. He was indeed too naïve. He despised the fact that he didn’t learn from his mistakes despite repeating that instruction in his head countless times. ‘Where are you now devilish voices?’ he asked in a whisper. He had died foolishly but nobody was mocking him anymore. He tried to bait their taunts as he approached the axe man and danced around him, avoiding his attacks with complete ease. The voices didn’t come though and he was forced to execute the poor creature. He dealt with the six men patrolling the streets and walked towards the executioner.

The voices were right. If he managed to defeat this monster, he would stand a chance against that hostile hunter. He was facing the beast when it ran towards him. He was taken aback but a voice inside his head snapped him out of his reverie in the nick of time. ‘Fooooool!’

He dodged the first axe uppercut and saw the momentum of the attack throwing the executioner off guard. The weapon was too heavy and it would drag him along if he ever missed his attack. Surgit dashed towards his enemy and slashed once. He got back just in time as a swing grazed his nose. ‘Fooool,’ the voices said. He was getting irritated but he had to keep his cool. Those voices served only to annoy him and seldom threw nuggets of advice his way. The executioners nimbly jumped at him and brought its axe down towards him. He dodged it to the left and punished his assailant for being too hot headed.

The beast had plump small feet. This surprised Surgit as he cut them open with his cleaver, depriving his enemy from the ability to walk. The executioner rolled around in the ground and waved his arm around. It looked like a turtle that fell on its back and struggled to regain its usual position. ‘There’s no time to laugh’ he thought to himself as he jumped up to avoid a reckless swing from the axe. The executioner still had the strength to swing his weapon around despite losing too much blood.

He plunged his knees on the executioner’s chest as he landed. Its fat cushioned his landing and he still managed to empty his enemy’s lungs of air. He held his cleaver with both hands and sawed the executioner’s head off. By the time he was done, his whole body was sticky with blood. ‘Fool nonetheless!’ said one voice to which another replied: ‘don’t mind him, he’s just bitter about losing a bet.’

Surgit felt confident enough to face the old man. He took the stairs near Gilbert’s house and headed for the elevator. On the way, he had to dispose of two troll which didn’t trouble him much. All he had to do was to shoot them and stagger them in order to crush their insides. As soon as he came down, he found himself on the bridge where he’d found Karla earlier.

‘Well, that wasn’t here before,’ he thought as he saw a mob patrolling the bridge. ‘What a pain in the bottom,’ he thought irritated. He got ready for a difficult fight and elongated his cleaver. Two of the man-beasts patrolling the bridge held swords. Another one held an axe while the one next to him held a pitchfork. The one behind the group had a wooden shield on its hand. That amused Surgit. A wooden shield would be of no use against beast nor would it be efficient against the hunters’ strength.

He dashed towards them and jumped back just in time to avoid a pitchfork to the face. He strategically baited them in a line and started hacking at them one by one. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against a mob that surrounded him. And so he used a hit and run strategy. He would punish every fool who dared swing too wide and jumped back to get them to follow him. He was too absorbed in executing his strategy that he ignored the voices shouting ‘HOT! HOT! HOT’ at him. He looked up just in time to see a giant fireball rolling at a dangerous speed towards him. He was burned to a crisp and sent down towards the canals below. His body slammed against the floor and he swore as all the voices roared with laughter inside his head.