By April Scott
I didn’t play Bloodborne when it first released in 2015. I discovered it in 2017 — and it immediately became the most difficult game I had ever played. Within one minute I was dead. Again. And again. I would retry the same stretch of cobblestone streets thirty times and still find myself cut down within minutes.
But I refused to quit.
I also refused to watch tutorials or read guides online. Bloodborne wasn’t just a game — it felt personal, a battle between me and the city of Yharnam itself.
What stood out immediately was the world. That gothic, old-European nightmare setting wasn’t just a backdrop — it pulled me inside. Dark and deadly, yes, but also heartbreakingly beautiful. The lantern glow, the men gathered around the bonfire, the crooked architecture stretching into shadows — it all felt alive. Even now, years later, I can close my eyes and imagine those same men still waiting for me to return, their pitchforks and torches raised.
For anyone who has never played it: Bloodborne is an action RPG from the creators of Dark Souls, set in the cursed city of Yharnam. By day, its cobblestone streets look like a gothic postcard, but by night the city transforms into a nightmare of beasts, mobs, and twisted hunters. Armed with trick weapons — blades that unfold into scythes, guns paired with swords — players fight their way through grotesque enemies and massive, terrifying bosses like Father Gascoigne, the Cleric Beast, and Vicar Amelia. Each encounter feels like a dance of desperation, requiring timing, precision, and an acceptance that you’ll die many times before you win.
The first night I played, I failed. I shut off the console feeling defeated, even depressed. Maybe I wasn’t a good gamer after all. Bloodborne wasn’t like Mario Brothers. It was complex, punishing, impossible.
But then came the dream.
That night I found myself back in Yharnam — still running, still fighting, still trapped in its mobs and monsters. But it wasn’t like a normal nightmare. It felt… different. Almost as if the game had placed a spell on me. A hypnotic veil had dropped over me, and now a part of me would always remain there.
That’s the strange power of Bloodborne. The Hunter’s Dream isn’t just a game hub — it’s a state of mind. Only in the Dream do you feel peace, a moment of calm. The rest of the time, you’re fighting. Searching, defending, running, dying. Constantly dying.
A hypnotic veil drops over you once you play it — and a part of you will always remain in Yharnam.
And that’s the secret: you only truly enjoy Bloodborne once you accept death. Once you let go of fear and embrace the darkness, every desperate dash and doomed duel becomes part of the spell. You’re not just surviving in Yharnam — you’re alive in it.
Only when you accept that you will die a million times can you truly enjoy being alive.
Bloodborne didn’t just challenge me as a gamer. It changed the way I thought about games as worlds, as nightmares, as places that might haunt you forever. In 2025, it remains every bit as powerful as it was the first time I picked up the controller.
Because Bloodborne isn’t just a game you play.
It’s a world you never escape.
Developed by FromSoftware and directed by Hidetaka Miyazaki, Bloodborne first emerged in 2015 as a PlayStation 4 exclusive. Nearly a decade later, its gothic streets and monstrous bosses remain as haunting and unforgettable as ever. For anyone who has never played, it’s more than a challenge — it’s an initiation into a world that refuses to let go. Step into Yharnam, face the Hunt, and discover why Bloodborne still lingers in the minds of those who dared to enter.
Once you’ve walked Yharnam’s streets, you never truly leave them.
