The journey to the house was a blare, a swirl of mist and grasping tree branches which clawed at his numb body, dragging him deeper into the nightmare he couldn't wake up from. This could not be happening…

His family was…

He couldn't even think of the word, it just wasn't possible. He had been dragged from his home by a murderer claiming they were vampires… It was all too insane, but he had… Hera and Sabine… He must be sick, like this crazy man that dragged him through this unyielding darkness, that was the only explanation… but his family was still…

Ezra's thoughts were brought to a halt when the crooked house appeared in the distance, its coldness biting at his very soul. The man's bruising grip never wavered as they got closer. Ezra even tried to minimise the pain by keeping to the same pace as his captor, but miserably failed at that, his shoes occasionally becoming ensnared in the deep mud.

The man aggressively kicked open the gate, the metal bars rattling from the force as it collided with the fence. Ezra bit back a cry when he stumbled over the steps of the porch, barely able to keep up as he was pulled forward. Once the front door slammed shut, the so-called vampire threw the boy onto the ground and loomed over him like the shadow of the predator he was. Finally free, Ezra didn't move, anticipating that something was about to happen, half-expecting the creature to hit him or even break another bone with the way that the man's eyes flared, burning a hole into his skull… yet, nothing happened.

Instead, the murderer drew in a breath, tucking his hands neatly behind his back before speaking in a calm voice. "Tomorrow we will begin the repairs on the house, and restore it to its original glory. We will also then commence your training."

Ezra's mouth stood agape with disbelief, barely able to grasp the words he was hearing. Was this fiend really acting like nothing had happened not even an hour ago? As if Ezra was going to willingly stay and train under - and for what exactly? What could there possibly be to train for? This monster must have been more insane than Ezra originally thought, the man needed a mental hospital, not teaching Ezra whatever there was about 'vampires'.

"I will never do anything for you, you monster!" He snarled out, baring his teeth, feeling his newly sprouted fangs pierce his own lips.

The 'vampire' regarded him in silence for what felt like an eternity, but in reality were only mere seconds, his face passive. Then everything happened in a blink of an eye, much too fast for Ezra to even react. The man kicked him hard, his sternum cracking and caving in from the impact, causing blood to splatter out from his mouth as he flew down the hallway and crashed into the door of what appeared to be a storage room. The wood shattered from the force, Ezra lay in its remains, too shocked to move and was unable to see through the black dots that obscured his vision.

How was the man able to move so fast? Be so strong? His head throbbed too much to come up with any logical explanation, writing it off as another hallucination of his sickness. There was no way he could be a real vampire - it couldn't be possible, it defied the fabric of reality and it was something that Ezra would never want to be.

He gasped in pain when felt fingers claw at his hair, yanking his head back so that he was forced to stare into the furious eyes of his captor.

"You will either address me as Master Maul or simply as Master," he hissed out, and the boy winced when the grip on his hair tightened as he tried to pull away. "And not as anything else. You will respect me."

"Never, respect is earned ! " Ezra gritted out, knowing that he would regret the words as soon as he said them. Maul's face contorted with rage, his yellow eyes taking on a deadly gleam, and he backhanded the boy. Ezra bit back a cry as pain burned across his cheek, blinking away the tears that stung his eyes. However, he refused to allow the monster the satisfaction of seeing his misery.

"You will respect me, boy!" Maul repeated, but the changeling remained silent as he glared back. "And I will not repeat myself again."

The impact came again, spreading heat across Ezra's face as his head was snapped to the side and this time, the iron taste of blood filled his mouth. His eyes snapped open in confusion when his throat began to burn, his bloodied lips open in disbelief. How could he still be hungry after drinking so much blood? After having drained his sister and mother dry? Oh, how the thought disgusted him, making his stomach churn.

Maul chuckled as he observed Ezra's reaction and the boy looked up to see him smirking, his yellow eyes burning with amusement. The unstable man, Ezra observed wearily, seem to share the same spectrum of emotions as pregnant women in a short amount of time.

"The thirst of a newborn can be quite… insatiable," he said with a knowing glint in his horrible eyes. "But I can help you."

"I don't want your help!" Ezra growled, attempting to pull away from the vampire's grasp.

"Oh, but you do," Maul laughed, "Only the master's blood can alleviate a newborn's first thirst."

The boy couldn't even respond, too stunned and horrified at this new information. Did that mean that he had drunk his family's blood for nothing?! That it was simply some kind of twisted joke for Maul's own amusement? Ezra trembled with hate and disgust, both for himself and the creature that destroyed his life, his red eyes seething as he glared at the man before him. How dare he - this abomination! - do this to him?! Ezra thought furiously. He spat right in the centre of the vampire's face, whose expression of delight fell to one more grim.

"Stubborn boy," he sneered, tightening his grip. His facial expression then slightly eased up as he searched Ezra's face. "Or perhaps you're still in denial. Face it, Ezra , you're a vampire - my creation - and deep down you already know it to be true."

Ezra remained silent as he continued to glare, refusing to answer to this lunatic. Maul growled in frustration.

"Have you not even questioned why you no longer have a reflection? Why does the sun and silver burn to the touch? Why does your body heal so quickly? why do you crave blood? why does your heart no longer beat?"

Ezra's eyes widened, no heartbeat? That would be impossible - he'd be dead! He suddenly had the urge to touch his own chest, to prove this crazy murderer wrong, but he couldn't even move, too afraid for the small what if . As for the other points, he had no better answer than to cling onto the delusion of it having to do with some disease, an illness that he must have contracted from stars knows where.

"It's all an illusion created by some kind of sickness that drives people to be as insane as you!" Ezra spat out, still resisting to question the logic behind his own reasoning. Could he already have been driven to lunacy like this man before him? Could that explain why he had done what he had?

Maul let out a vicious growl at the insult, hauling the boy up to his feet with rough hands, and dragged him out of the storage room. They went down the dark hall that Ezra had not explored previously and there he was dragged to a hidden entrance way that led down to the basement.

The stairs were made of stone as were the walls that held flickering candles, casting an eerie glow over the room. Ezra shivered despite unable to feel the cold, there was just something ominous about the room. It was as if the very air was made from lead, weighing down on his shoulders, and he realised that it reminded him a lot like the aura of his master - a menacing shadow, something that should have remained trapped to the darkness.

His eyes then gazed over an object in the centre of the room, laying on faded Persian rugs, and upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a black coffin adorned with elegant carvings and etchings of gold. Nearby against the wall, was another coffin, this one being brown and much more plain, lacking any decorations carved into the wood. Panic started to rise when Maul dragged Ezra towards the latter coffin; he had an inkling of what was to come, and it was almost humorous, in a dark twisted way, that the movies had been right about vampires and coffins.

Stopping before the coffin, Maul kicked open the lid and the boy would have jumped back if it weren't for the older man holding him in place. Inside were the dusty remains of someone long dead, their skin already having peeled off and their flesh gone with decay, leaving only the hollow shell of a person that had once been alive.

Ezra let out a gasp of surprise when he suddenly found himself pushed forward, propelled right into the open casket and onto the skeleton that crushed under his weight. He pushed himself up and turned in horror to see Maul grinning at him, flashing his sharp teeth.

"I meant to empty it when I dug it up for you, but I didn't have the time," he laughed and before the boy could scramble out of the coffin, Maul closed the lid, cloaking Ezra in darkness. There was a rasping sound of metal against wood followed by a clicking sound of a lock.

He banged his fists against the lid with a cry, but it wouldn't budge. It was awfully cramped inside the musty coffin and he could feel the bones of the previous owner jabbing into his back, which did not help to calm the ever growing hysteria. Dust began to cloud the air, stirred by Ezra's erratic movements as he continued to bash against the wood. He coughed as he inhaled the particles, his body shuddering violently as his lungs attempted to remove the dust and his eyes began to water from the exertion.

Reluctantly, the boy stilled his movements in hopes of dirt settling down and when he deemed the air clear enough, he slowly lifted his hands up to the lid. As gently as he possibly could in his state of mind, he scratched his fingernails against the wood. It was an awkward motion, considering how little space he had to extend his arms, but he was desperate enough to try and make it work. As time went by and with little progress to show for it, Ezra began to grow frustrated, pressing harder against the lid, ignoring the splinters that stabbed themselves into his flesh.

Ezra did not know how much time had passed, the only damage he'd inflicted, except to himself, were in thin, barely visible lines he'd carved into the lid's underside. His skin had repeatedly stripped off his flesh, causing it to bleed before it would mend itself, allowing him to repeat the process as many times as he desired, his fingernails were all but ruined, breaking away like they were nothing more than brittle bones. The smell of blood began to fill the stale air, protruding Ezra's sense with a ferocity that made his throat aflame.

It nearly felt as if he was being suffocated with the way his throat constricted with thirst and his vision blurred from its intensity. He hated this. He hated what he had become and what his body required to sustain itself, and he hated himself for causing harm to his family... for having murdered his family in cold blood… the same blood that now ran through his own veins. His sweet, loving family who hadn't deserved the fate such as the one that had been forced upon them and Ezra sobbed at their memory, unable to hold back any longer. Sabine who was planning to apply to a prestigious university in hopes of following her dreams as an artist; Hera who had always been there for him with patience and understanding, full to the brim with joy at finally having the bakery she had always wanted; Kanan who had wanted nothing more than the best life for his family, teaching Ezra important life lessons as well as playing sports with him, things that his birth father never had a chance to teach.

Blood stained his cheeks as tears poured down from his eyes, the reality of the situation pushed him with a force that caused his body to shudder with every heaving sob. He wanted nothing more than to get out of here and to run as far away as possible from the monster that had caused all of this to unfold. But where where would he even go? Ezra had no family left, no home and no friends. He had nothing, nothing at all. Helplessness clawed at him, dragging him down into the endless pit of despair and his eyes could no longer fight the darkness creeping up, encasing his world in deep shadows.

Ezra woke with a start, banging his forehead against wood and he groaned as he looked up in confusion. Memories of the horrid night flooded back into his mind and he realised that he must have fallen asleep. A sob escaped his chapped lips, but no tears fell. He refused to shed any more tears, to waste any more of his precious family's blood, and for the time being, he had to focus if he had hoped to calm this ravenous hunger that clawed at his throat like a savage beast. It didn't work, he hadn't expected it to, but he clung to the delusion that if he tried hard enough that it would eventually dim over time.

He had a clearer head than the previous night, although he was still struggling with the internal turmoil, the toll of reality settling in. Ezra bit his lips, wincing when the fangs he had yet not gotten used to pierced his lips causing a spike in his hunger, as he hesitantly brought his hand underneath his shirt up towards his chest. A huge part of him didn't want to see whether or not the murderer was right, but he had been putting it off long enough that the temptation grew too strong to resist. He held his breath and he placed his hand down on where his heart should be.

Nothing.

Not even a slight tremor.

Ezra let out a breath of air, quickly removing his hand from his shirt as he put it up against his jugular vein, on the side of his neck. It had to be a fluke, perhaps his heartbeat was too weak to feel.

No pulse.

He swallowed thickly, the lump refusing to leave his throat as he awkwardly moved to feel his wrist. Again, nothing, could this also be a delusion of his disease? Or maybe there was an inkling of truth in the creature's words?

Suddenly, there was the clicking sound of something unlocking, soon followed by the grating of metal as it was being pulled away. Ezra held his breath in anticipation, this could be his chance to escape. The lid groaned as it was lifted up to reveal the amused face of his captor, the cruel smirk tugging at his lips as he observed the state the boy was in. The sudden brightness of the glowing candles bit at his eyes and he had to blink a few times to adjust, and once that was done, Ezra scrambled out from the coffin, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from his captor as possible, but quickly found himself collapsing onto the floor, much too weak to even stand.

"Wha-?!" His voice was like sandpaper, scratching at his throat and his words could barely formulate themselves within his dry mouth. Ezra grabbed at his throat, almost writhing at the unbearable scorching sensation. Maul chuckled and Ezra turned his tired eyes towards him to glare daggers, wanting to do nothing more than to move away as the vampire crouched beside him.

"Had a comfortable rest?" He asked, his voice holding false pleasantries. Ezra knew that he was mocking him and deepened his glare. "I can only assume that you must be in a perpetual state of discomfort. Drink my blood and you will be free, ready to begin your life as the vampire you were meant to be."

The boy stubbornly shook his head, screwing his eyes shut as if that could banish the thoughts that dwelled deep in his mind. Images of the red liquid scattered throughout his brain and he nearly doubled over in agony of his thirst, in desire for blood. His mouth instantly began to salivate, like a dog's when presented with a treat, when a delicious scent wafted through his nostrils. His hungry eyes shot up to see Maul's wrist presented before him, the trickle of red flowing down the pale skin.

Ezra felt repulsed by the sight and yet leaned in closer, unable to resist like that of the siren, knowing fully the demise it would bring and yet unable to fight against it as it drowned him. His broken lips cracked open as his tongue reached out for the liquid. Just before he could taste it, the spell broke and he forced himself away with a lot of effort. He couldn't give in, he didn't want the so-called help from this monster! His body trembled from the effort to resist something that smelled so delicious, and his throat felt as if it was on fire, constricting it with its tendrils of heat. Maul snarled and roughly grabbed Ezra's hair.

"Quit being so stubborn, boy!" He spat out.

"No! I don't want to be a monster like you! I hate you!" Ezra gritted out, glaring with renewed hatred. "You took everything from me, I'd rather die than become like you!"

"You ungrateful brat!" Maul growled, painfully tightening his hold. "Do you have any idea how fortunate you are? Most mortals cannot withstand the powerful blood of a vampire, but you," he hissed to emphasise his point. " You were strong enough to survive, becoming something much more than those miserable human beings wasting away in their own weak bodies. I've given you a body that will never age, a life that will never end."

The boy shook his head, refusing to listen to the poison spewing from the monster's mouth. "Liar! You already took my life away from me! I never wanted any of this, to be cursed to become a demon like you!"

"We are blessed, not cursed," Maul snarled out as he pulled Ezra's head back, staring viciously at him. Seeing the fear in the boy's eyes, he smiled and he slightly eased his grip on Ezra's hair when he regained some of his composure. When he spoke again, his tone was much softer. "We get to be immortal. We have risen above the weaknesses of mortals, we are the next step in evolution's grand plan. Weren't you a demon before I changed you, who fed on the flesh of other animals simply because they were lesser to you? Humans are the same - livestock, bred to sustain us, nothing more, nothing less. I implore you to use this gift that I bestowed upon you, do not make me regret it."

Before Ezra could make any form of remark, the vampire forcibly placed his arm against the boy's mouth. Blood dripped between his parted lips, falling onto his tongue with an explosiveness he had never felt before. His eyes fluttered close as he involuntarily leaned in, his mind begging him to resist as he clutched Maul's arm. His mental struggle was feeble, like a leaf struggling against a hurricane, Ezra wished he were stronger but he knew he was not as he greedily gulped down the rich liquid. He wished the fluid would burn him, make him feel sick and wretch for what the vampire fed him was nothing but poison and yet it did not, its warmth spread throughout his body, drowning him in with a novel, almost addictive sense of euphoria.

"My, my, hungry aren't you?" Maul mocked as he watched his spawn fervently drink his blood, but Ezra could barely hear him, too caught up in the sensations, every fibre of his body was burning, begging for more. Ezra let out a whine of discontent when the arm was pulled out of his grasp, attempting to trail after it when a chuckle broke the spell.

"I think we can both agree that you've had your fill, no?"

Hot shame washed over Ezra, and he averted his now yellow eyes away. Maul was right, and it disgusted him at how easily he had given into the taste of blood, still longing for more despite the fullness he felt and at the knowledge of what had just sated his thirst.

Even as Ezra scolded himself, he could sense changes within himself, like the last remnants of a sleep he didn't know he was in had finally faded. His muscles regained all of their previous strength and he could now perceive his surroundings with refound clarity; his senses all heightened now that he had his real, 'first drink' as maul had called it. The thought was a bitter one, a reminder of the pointless deaths his family members had had to suffer from.

"Now, if you are quite finished sulking, we can begin your vampire training, now that your transformation is complete." Maul stated as he watched the wound across his arm already begin to heal, sensing Ezra's hatred and sorrow but choosing to ignore it.