A draft for a Gascoigne and Tanya One-shot that may become more. Work in progress.
It was a relatively peaceful day in Yharnam. Ever since the scourge had ended there had not been much in the way of chaos. I know it may sound strange, but I miss the chaos, the screams echoing in the night, the streets running red with blood, and let us not forget the ever lingering madness that used to hang in the air. Oh, the memories—I miss cutting people down in the streets, at least then I had somewhere to direct my anger after the untimely deaths of my wife and two daughters.
In a room overlooking the street, I sit back in my rocking chair, and snarl at the people as they go about their daily lives; another swig of liquor. A life without anything to live for, no one to protect, and nothing to fill the void; nope, only about three and a half liters of ‘forget me juice’, and for the time being at least, it was enough.
That night I relive the same nightmare I always have. I bring my axe down onto my wife’s jugular; the look of horror and betrayal on her face. I simply keep hacking away as her last breath escapes through the newly created hole in her neck, as I bring my axe down for the last time I mutter “you will all turn into beasts eventually.” Why did I say that? Was I really that Mad?
I bolt upright in bed, a cold sweat breaking out on my face. I let out a sigh; how much longer will I be cursed with these nightmares?
I climb out of bed; having had enough of this recurring nightmare. I go into my wardrobe and pull out some belts; hastily I fashion them into a noose, and just as I’m about to kick the stool out from under myself I hear a loud knock on the door.
“Who the hell could that be at this hour?”
Slowly I step down from my stool; as I start down the stairs I hear the knocking again, but only this time more frantic.
“I’m coming, hold your horses!”
The knocking continues, this time in quick succession; I start moving down the stairs a little quicker and a lot more irritated. Does this moron have any idea what time it is? I get to the door and no sooner could I open the door; a little girl ran into my house, before I could even sarcastically say “lovely night isn’t it?”
“That’s alright, no need to introduce your-self. Just come on in!” I shout sarcastically.
After shrugging this off, I head back to my bedroom— ‘going to finish what I started’, although when I walk into my room I see the little girl fast asleep in my bed.
I sigh and say, “Oh for the love of God! Is she really this insufferable?”
I consider hanging myself anyway, and giving this little wretch a little surprise when she wakes up, however after some thought, I decided not to completely traumatize the little urchin..
Once I had decided I wasn’t going to kill myself tonight; I picked up a book, ‘The Godfather’, this will make a good read. An hour of reading I found myself asleep — I dreamt of my wife and daughters, however, it was not about their death’s; no, it was of a picnic we went on during the summer.
The next morning, I wake up with the little girl staring me down like a hawk—her huge icy blue eyes filling my vision, her blond hair filling my peripheral; and yet my attention keeps getting drawn back to her eyes, Those icy blue eyes, just like my youngest daughter, Annabelle.
“Um, sir, are you okay? I just wanted to say sorry about last night, it’s just that some police officers were hassling me all night about the alley I was sleeping in, but if it is all the same with you, I’ll be on my way.” The girl hastily jabbered.
Last night was the first night in years that I did not have that nightmare, I had been plagued by that nightmare for years, and yet, this girl busts into my house and sleeps in my bed; and for some unknown reason it causes them to go away?
I watch as the little girl starts to turn around and leave. I think to myself ‘I can’t go back to those nightmares, I refuse to go back.’ After only about a half a second of thought, I decide that I must convince this little girl to stay; how hard can it be? I have plenty to offer someone with so little, and I am willing to give it all away if it means the end of these incessant nightmares.
I rush toward her with all my might and grab her tiny, little hand.
“Please stay a while longer, it would be rude of me as a host to make you leave without even having some breakfast, I don’t even know your name.”
The little girl looked surprised by the rather mundane question, but eventually she answered, “My name is Tanya, Tanya Degurechaff.”
It has been nearly three weeks since Gascoigne took me in, and damn if he isn’t… um, interesting? I guess the reason I am creeped out is because whenever I ask why he took me in I always get this vague answer about how I remind him of his daughter, now look, I am the last one to want to piss on a good thing but I do feel slightly uncomfortable with how casually he took me in and how he acts in a way that would make one think that I had always lived here. Damnit! I just barely know the guy, but I know my alternative is worse.
I walk down the stairs, and see Gascoigne sitting on the couch; reading a book. Gascoigne puts down the book and starts to walk toward me. I flinch slightly— however, he does not finish crossing the room; no, instead he stops about halfway, and then says “I’m off to the store; I will be back later Annabelle.”
Who the hell is Annabelle? I think to myself.
I walk out of my house, and think to myself ‘nice going, asshole; you totally creeped her out!’ After about a two minute walk I arrived at the store, a simple, open air market. I after a minute or so, I decided to explain my reasoning to her; after-all she, deserves to know.
After picking up some fresh fruit and some meat, I decided to head back home. Upon walking in my door I see Tanya on the floor, listening to the radio. I tap her on the shoulder, and say “We need to talk.” Tanya responds by turning off the radio and turning to face him.
“Yes, what is it?” Tanya quipped, pushing her hair out of her eyes and shifting her legs to get into a more comfortable position. I let out a long sigh “I don’t know how to put this nicely, so I’m just going to come right out and say it. I haven’t been entirely honest with you; you know how when you ask why I took you in I always tell you that you look like my daughter?”
Tanya nodded her head, and I continued, “Well, that’s only partly true, the main reason I took you in is much more selfish. You see, I have had this particularly nasty recurring nightmare for years, ever since the scourge ended I would dream of the night I brutally murdered my wife. You see, the scourge had driven me insane, and when my wife tried to talk some sense into me I cut her down with my axe.”
I take a deep breath, “ever since my madness disappeared I have relived that every night in full detail, that is— until you came along,"the night you broke in," Tanya interrupted him, "as I recall it, you let me in willingly" I sigh and continue "anyway, that is beside the point, I was going to hang myself and put an end to it, but after deciding not to traumatize you I ended up falling asleep and not having that dream. You see, it was you being here that took my mind off of that, and once I again knew the bliss of peaceful sleep I could not let it go, and by extension I could not let ‘you’ go.”
I let out a deep breath, feeling as though a massive weight had shifted from my shoulders, after a minute Tanya’s puzzled face turned to frustration, “wait a minute, if that was all, then why didn’t you just tell me? I would have understood, I mean yeah— I don’t like being used, but I like living on the streets a whole hell of a lot less.”