Last night, I traversed the brick streets of a dimly lit town, the sound of blood-curdling screams filled the air and it was hard to concentrate, especially when werewolves were strolling up and down the bridge that a weary traveler, like myself, had to make it past. I managed to cut down the rabid beasts and explore further down the Gothic looking buildings, past many lamp posts, discovering a hillside where I spotted burning humanoid beasts on crosses.
Along this trail there was an old church. I ventured into the church and found a creature known as the “blood-starved beast.” I fought it, and I died. On the other side of the screen, was me: eyes wide, mouth open, extremely stumped. This was my fourth attempt at fighting said monster, but I still couldn’t get enough of this punishing, yet enthralling video game called Bloodborne.