[h3]Outside the Hunter's Clinic, in the outskirts of Yharnam[/h3]
The beast-man's whimper turned into a horrid, wet gurgle as Ophelia's spear – despite its target weakly trying to move out of the way – plunged into the side of the throat, eliciting a genuine spurt of blood from one could only assume was a severed jugular artery. The creature slid off the spear and fell onto its back, weakly and desperately clutching its bleeding throat with both hands, its entire body trembling and convulsing in from the shock of its wound.

In the meantime Torquil staggered backward clutching the spot on his chest where he had just been shot, panicking and trying to apply pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. He could feel warm blood on his fingers and staining his now-ruined shirt and tried to remember what important organs were in the area the bullet had just hit.
[I]I'm going to die,[/I] he thought, and was not sure whether that made him want to cry or laugh. [I]I did the heroic thing and tried to help Ophelia and Farren, and now I'm going to die for my trouble. I really should know better than to try to get involved with other people.[/I]
But gradually as the immediate shock of what had happened abated, Torquil noticed something odd: even though he had just been shot, it did not hurt. Confused, he removed his hand, and though he could confirm that there was blood on it, his shirt and his skin, there was no wound.
[I]Oh, right... I'm a Hunter now. Hunters heal.[/I]
He turned his attention back to the scene playing out at the front door of the clinic just in time to witness the beast-man sprawl onto the ground, which distracted him only for a second before he realized that there were more pressing concerns. While Ophelia finished off their first opponent, the Mad One emerged from the door and stood at its full imposing height, blocking the doorway.

“What in the world is [I]that[/I]?!” Victor exclaimed, his hands once again on his giant sword, though he seemed somewhat hesitant to approach the creature. He looked at Farren. “What do you [I]mean[/I], call more?!”

The Mad One paused for just a second to stare at the trembling form of the beast-man before it, observing its dying ally with empty, lidless eyes, before turning its head to Ophelia as the one closest to it. It reached its left hand out to grab her, but its movements were so ponderously slow that it would almost take Ophelia doing nothing or getting grabbed on purpose for it to succeed.