Basil grunted irately as he slumped further down into his chair. Sleep eluded him as he was knee-deep in a most intriguing case regarding the disappearances and killings of young rodents, mostly women but a few men as well. The singular most important and intriguing clue in each one: each body was drained of blood. Basil had spent the last several days in research and experimentation, trying to discover a way to drain the blood from a body without leaving a trace behind. But for all his genius, for once the Great Mouse Detective was at a loss.

About five in the morning, after mulling over the case for the millionth time in his head, Basil sighed and went outside for some fresh air, thinking that a quick walk would help to clear his mind. He was careful not to make any noise as he left, not wanting to wake Amber or Dawson or Mrs. Judson.

Basil couldn't help smiling as he thought of her. Reaching into his pocket, Basil pulled out the small black box and opened it, gazing at the ring inside. He had picked it out himself, choosing a simple setting and a band that was engraved with roses, something he knew she loved. He'd been courting Amber for over a year now, and found himself wanting to take the next step. And yet… he still hesitated. Even after asking Dawson for advice, he was still too scared to take the plunge and ask for her hand in marriage, afraid she would reject him.

Basil shook his head to clear his thoughts and put the ring back in its place, needing to focus on the case at hand. He pulled his collar up higher as a chilling wind began to blow. The sky was still dark, a thick fog covering the streets. The perfect setting for a crime, he thought grimly. He made his way slowly down the sidewalk, lighting his pipe and burying his hands deep in the pockets of his Inverness coat and soon was lost in thought again.

Suddenly his thoughts were broken as he heard a chilling shriek. Hoping to stop whatever was taking place, Basil immediately rushed toward the sounds, afraid that the serial killer was about to claim another victim. He sprinted along the street, following the sounds to a graveyard. Squeezing through a crack in the fence, he quietly made his way toward the source of the sounds, glad that he had grabbed his revolver on the way out the door.

Ducking behind gravestones and keeping to the shadows, Basil meandered through the cemetery till he finally found the culprits. But what he saw stopped him in his tracks.

As long as he lived, Basil would never forget that sight. Two female mice held a struggling teenage street girl between them. One of them even seemed to be kissing her neck. Unfortunately they heard him approach and whirled about to face him. He aimed his revolver at them challengingly, but his hand trembled when he saw blood staining their lips.

They snarled and hissed at him, exposing their teeth in a grin showing such unnaturally sharp canines. One of them, with long auburn curls cascading down her back and wearing a red dress, suddenly crouched down on the ground like a feral animal and sprang at him. Basil pulled the trigger and shot the thing in the chest, but… it had no effect. She tackled him to the ground, causing him to nearly black out as his head hit one corner of a tombstone. He groaned as his vision flickered, feeling blood run from his temple down the side of his face. The other woman, a tall dark furred mouse with straight black hair wearing a long white robe-like dress dropped their initial victim, casting the girl aside like a ragdoll to come to her colleague's aid. As the two of them dragged Basil up to his feet, he tried to fight back, but he was so dazed and disoriented from the blow, and they were so strong, he couldn't move at all.

As Basil struggled they laughed and spoke together in another language. Basil thought it might be Romanian, but since his knowledge of that language was extremely limited, and he was so weak from the wound to his head, their voices seemed to come from a distance and soon he began to grow faint. While the black haired one held him tightly from behind, the other caressed his face. He struggled weakly, but was completely helpless as she placed kisses on his forehead, his cheek, his lips…

The thought of another woman kissing him filled Basil with more dread; if Amber were to know about this, she would be devastated. But the look on his face showed that he clearly did not enjoy it. He shivered as the other woman pulled the top of his shirt open exposing his bare neck to the cold air. Then, tangling her hand in his hair, she suddenly jerked his head back and hissed, showing those white, razor-sharp fangs. Then she bit him, sinking those horrid teeth into his flesh… and began to drink his blood.

Basil eventually lost consciousness as the two women fed on him, whether from shock or blood loss or pain or a combination of all three, he didn't know. However, he woke up sometime later, surprised and relieved to still be alive. He felt comfortable, feeling warm silk sheets covering him. He tried to sit up and look around but found was too weak to do so and sank back down with a groan.

Lifting a hand to his throat, Basil hoped that what had happened to him had only been a horrid nightmare. But he winced at the contact, feeling blood on the tips of his fingers.

"Don't touch it," a smooth male voice instructed gently. "You'll only make it worse."

Basil opened his eyes to see a gray mouse with a small mustache and long raven black hair and dark eyes sitting by his side, looking down at him with a cordial smile. Basil winced as the mouse dabbed a cloth to his neck, tending to his wounds. Suppressing another groan, Basil winced as he felt his head, noticing a bandage had already been applied to the gash.

"Quite a nasty fall you took there," the mouse remarked. "It's a good thing I found you when I did, else you would have bled to death."

"Where am I?" Basil asked, feeling disoriented.

"I brought you to my home to recover, naturally," the mouse replied vaguely with a wave of his hand. "But that's of little importance. What is important is that you heal and get your strength back. And may I say it is an honor to welcome you into my home, Mr. Basil."

Basil looked at the mouse suspiciously. He was wealthy if the fancy clothes and accessories such as a red ribbon around his neck with a ruby pendant were any indication. Definitely foreign judging by his accent. Was he Romanian, like those women in the graveyard...?

"Th-Thank you, Mr. …?"

"Tch, we'll save the proper introductions for when you are well," the mouse said, brushing the question aside. "Just simply 'Count' will do. Now you must rest."

Almost instantly, Basil felt his eyelids droop and soon he fell into a restless sleep, haunted by nightmares of the women attacking him and the mysterious Count.

The next day Basil awoke to find his clothes washed and laid out neatly on a nearby chair. He stood shakily to his feet, surprised to find he felt much better. Once dressed he carefully removed the bandages and was shocked to see that the wounds were almost completely healed.

"Feeling better, detective?" said the familiar voice. Basil turned to see the Count leaning against the doorframe casually.

"Much better," Basil replied with a small smile of his own, still feeling a sense of unease about the Count. "In fact, I should probably return back to Baker Street."

"Must you leave so soon?" the Count replied, seeming almost hurt by the statement. "After I healed you, and we've only just met…"

"Of course," Basil replied in confusion. "I appreciate your hospitality Count, but I'm in the midst of a most important case and need to go home."

"Why Mr. Basil… you are home."

Basil just stared. "I beg your pardon…?"

"After all I've done," the Count continued, advancing toward Basil, "saving your life and healing your wounds… you can't honestly expect to leave just like that."

Basil backed away and considered making a break for the door. "I-I'll pay you for your help, just—"

"I don't want your money," the Count sneered. "I have more than enough of that already."

"Then what do you want?" Basil snapped.

The Count smiled ever so slightly. "Join me. Pledge your undying loyalty to me, and I can assure you that you'll have a life like you've never imagined."

"No thank you," Basil scoffed, brushing past him toward the door. However the Count grabbed him forcefully and threw him back across the room. Basil winced as his skull collided with the wall, causing him to black out momentarily as the Count pinned him against the wall. Basil struggled and fought to get free, but his strength was even greater than the women who attacked him in the graveyard. As the Count glared at Basil, he felt pierced by those red eyes and found he was powerless to move a muscle. His eyes dilated as the Count held his gaze, and as much as he tried Basil could not look away.

"You are forbidden to leave this house," the Count hissed before finally releasing him. Basil collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. But as soon he found the strength to stand he fled, sprinting through several corridors and down a set of stairs and before finally reaching the front entrance. Basil made a desperate lunge at the door…

And suddenly found himself frozen. He looked up at the ornate wooden door, the one thing between him and freedom, and tried to go forward. Again he couldn't move. Basil put a hand up and discovered he couldn't even touch the wood. It was as if there were a physical barrier between himself and the door.

Desperate, he continued to flee through the castle, trying every exit he could, even windows. But to no avail. Every opening he came to he could not pass. He recalled the Count's order and felt shivers go down his spine as he realized that he was a prisoner.

However, that didn't stop Basil from trying to escape. But when the Count found out, he personally locked Basil in a cellar himself. He was let out once a day, when the Count would let him eat at a large ornate table in the dining hall, though the Count never ate himself. Then a week later, Basil's suspicions were confirmed as he awoke in the cellar to find the Count feeding on him as those women had in the cemetery. He was one of them.

Basil didn't know much about vampires: only what was told in novels and legends. But who knew just how much of that was true? Whatever the case, he had found out the hard way that the creatures of the night did exist. It certainly explained the murders. But who would believe him, even if he did manage to escape?

On top of the feedings, Basil was helpless as the Count's hold on him grew stronger each day. Whenever he fed, it felt as if their minds were connected, which disgusted Basil that someone could invade such a private place. He was forced to endure the daily feedings, as well as being forced to drink some of the Count's own blood. He was told it was to prevent him from dying of blood loss; but Basil couldn't help feeling there was some deeper darker purpose for such an act.

Another week passed. Basil grew more and more weak each day, barely able to stand. He was kept inside the cellar now because each time he was allowed out he tried to run. Now all he could do was sit slumped against the wall, waiting for the Count to come back to torture him. He missed his life, he missed his home, his loved ones…

His ears lowered when he heard the latch to the door click and gritted his teeth as the Count entered. Seeing him smirk like that made Basil's blood boil. But he simply closed his eyes, leaning against the wall and waiting for the pain to start. He couldn't help flinching as he felt Fane kneel in front of him.

"And how is our little detective today?" Basil didn't care to grace him with an answer, causing the Count to smirk. "Don't be sore, Basil. I gave you plenty of opportunity. You could be living in luxury, in a room of your own, with riches beyond your wildest dreams."

"I will never join the likes of a disgusting bloodsucker like you," Basil said through gritted teeth.

The Count scowled before backhanding Basil across the face so hard he fell to the side. "Little wretch!" he yelled, looming over Basil, "After all I've done for you, saving your worthless life when I should have left you out in the cold to die, and this is how you repay me?! You should be grateful!"

"Grateful?" Basil replied, tasting blood as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "You kidnap me and hold me hostage, feeding on me like some kind of wild animal, then expect me to lick your hand like a loyal dog…You won't even tell me your bloody name!"

"You will learn it," the Count snarled, bringing Basil's face close to his. "And in time, you will learn to fear it."

The Count turned to walk away, but stopped when he heard Basil's voice. "I hate you," Basil whispered. He reacted by grabbing Basil by the throat and lifting him off the ground, slamming his back against the wall. "What did you just say to me?" he hissed.

"I hate you!" Basil shouted, frustrated to feel tears stinging his eyes. "I'd rather die than spend one more minute as your prisoner suffering in this godforsaken place!"

The Count's eyes narrowed and for a moment Basil expected him to strike him again. However, he only smiled; a reaction Basil found more terrifying than if he had reacted in anger.

"You wish for death?" the Count asked, and Basil felt his blood run cold. "Then allow me to remedy that."

Before he could react, Basil watched horrified as the Count drew a dagger from his cloak and plunged it into his chest. Basil gasped and spluttered, grasping his chest desperately as blood spread from the wound, staining his clothes and hands. He dropped to his knees in an agonized groan, already feeling his vision going black.

The Count gripped his chin, forcing Basil to look into his eyes in his dying moments. "Consider this the beginning of your payment," he said coldly before releasing Basil, letting him fall to the stone floor. He watched unforgiving as Basil died, uttering one last word with his final breath.

"Amber."

…..

This was not how I wanted to die.

All his life, Basil had fought to bring justice to those who did wrong. He fought evil all his life; now he was destroyed by it. Knowing the dangers associated with his line of work, Basil knew very well that his life could end any given day. But he never expected to be a victim, murdered in cold blood. He wasn't perfect by any means, but he had still tried to live a good life, doing all he could to right wrongs, to help others. Still… now that it had finally ended, he found himself afraid.

He slowly opened his eyes, not knowing what to expect in the afterlife. He had hoped perhaps to be greeted by his mother and father, to finally be reunited with them again. However, once his eyes adjusted to the light, he found himself lying on a cold hard floor not unlike the one in the cellar. In fact, now that his eyes were adjusting to the dim light, this looked a lot like his old prison…

Basil sat up with a jolt, looking around frantically. He tore open his shirt and felt of his chest. Sure enough, the blood was still there, and a jagged tear in his skin marked the place where the knife was plunged into his heart, though it almost looked more like a scar now, as if it was healing.

Suddenly the world spun and he retched, coughing up a thick black substance. His ears were ringing and his insides felt as if they were on fire. He curled up in a ball, clutching his stomach as he coughed again, causing him to moan in pain.

Maybe his old life hadn't been good enough. Maybe this was a punishment rather than a reward…

Basil's head whipped up as he heard the door creak open and he knew this was definitely not heaven. He stared in shock as the Count entered, smiling at him with interest.

"Did you have a nice nap, dear Basil?" he taunted.

Basil was about to retort but was cut off as the nausea hit again, causing him to vomit again as pain flared through his body. He felt rage boiling inside as the Count watched, clearly enjoying his suffering. Although he almost felt like begging, Basil refused to stoop so low just yet. Still, he couldn't help an agonized moan as his body shuddered while coughing up more of the vile substance.

"What…ugh, what's h-happening…?" he managed to croak out.

"The transformation has begun," the Count remarked with a devious smile.

Rip off his head. Basil was startled and horrified he'd had such a barbaric thought. He gripped his head in his hands, but the urge to shed blood only grew stronger.

"What did you do to me?!" Basil shouted fearfully.

"I'm changing you for the better," the Count replied matter-of-factly, kneeling down in front of his prisoner. Basil shuffled back against the wall to get away from him, only to curl up in a ball as his stomach twisted in pain. How could this agony possibly be an improvement?

"You don't see it just yet," the Count said, as if in answer to his thoughts. "But once the change is complete, your mind will grow sharper, your body stronger." Claw his eyes out, dash his brains against the wall… "Killing you was only the beginning. Now there's only one final step remaining in order to complete the transformation."

Basil winced and threw up his arm to shield his face as light assaulted his eyes when the Count opened the cellar door, pulling another mouse inside and throwing him on the floor in front of Basil. The mouse, a beggar covered in rags and dirt, cringed on the floor pitifully, his entire body trembling fearfully. Basil looked to the Count confusedly before another coughing fit made him double over in pain.

"Are you thirsty, Basil?" the Count asked. His throat was burning… he nodded helplessly, pleading silently for something to ease the pain. The Count chuckled and gestured at the beggar cowering on the floor. "Then have a drink."

Basil's stomach lurched as the Count's meaning sunk in. No. No, he couldn't… Basil cried out as another wave of pain racked his body, clawing the floor before arching his back as he felt as if his very spine was snapping in two while the disturbing thoughts continued to plague him.

Kill him, kill him, kill him…

"The longer you fight it, the more it will hurt," The Count said over Basil's screams. "The vampire blood is spreading through your body like a poison. The only remedy for it is blood. If you don't feed… you will die."

Never had the great detective been so frightened, save for that night with Ratigan atop Big Ben. He was a detective. Killing another mouse would make him a criminal! But he was so thirsty… he needed to satisfy this burning thirst…

Basil crawled on all fours as if stalking the mouse, the predatory instincts already taking over. Before he could register it in his mind Basil had grabbed the mouse tightly, feeling bones break in the mouse's wrist as he didn't realize his own strength yet. The mouse begged and pleaded pitifully, but his voice was drowned out as Basil's heightened senses could hear his frantic heartbeat, pumping the blood, life-giving blood, through his body.

No, Basil thought frantically, trying to stop himself from what he was about to do. No, no, no, no, no…

"Give in, Basil," the Count prodded, smirking as he watched Basil fight with himself even with the mouse in his clutches. "Embrace what you are... Become nosferatu."

Tears fell down his cheeks even as Basil felt himself crack. He opened his mouth in a feral snarl, baring his teeth before falling on his victim and sinking his fangs into his throat.

Author's Note: This was supposed to be my one-shot for Halloween... but I've already got most of ch. 2 written and I have most of a whole story planned so... XD

Thanks to CherlnIDA for the idea of Basil coughing up sticky black mess... I just picture the process of a vampire turning to be... not pleasant O.o

BTW this will be the ONLY time I ever kill Basil off maybe And I know he's way out of character with the whole romance thing but Amber is my OC and I ship them so sue me -.-

And I think we all know who the Count is ;P

Basil, Dawson, Mrs. Judson, and brief mention of Ratigan (c)Eve Titus and Disney
Amber, the Count, and the two vampire ladies (yes, Nadia and Acenith) (c)Me