The house stood in the middle of nowhere.

No neighbors. No real road. Thick doors, tall windows, corridors that felt wrong for a place meant to be lived in. There was an open courtyard, surrounded by walls, just enough sky and wind to make it feel less like a prison. Only the vampires were allowed outside.

The humans learned not to ask questions.

He arrived thinking it was temporary. A mistake. A convincing vampire. Weeks passed before he realized he wasn’t leaving. He could walk, talk, eat. But every time he neared the gates, someone appeared with a quiet warning.

He still tried to escape.

No one stopped him from taking the car. The road stretched ahead, empty and endless. Relief flooded him. His hands shook on the wheel.

Then something struck his neck.

His hand came back red. The world spun. Breathing became impossible. He never saw who attacked him.

When he woke up, he was back at the mansion.

He collapsed onto the ground as the vampire who ruled the house watched from the entrance, arms crossed, expression cold. Someone had begun the transformation without permission. A message from outside.

“Do you want to live?” the vampire asked.

He couldn’t answer.

The decision was made for him.

When he woke again, everything felt wrong. Sounds too sharp. Smells too strong. His body weak and burning with hunger. The doors were locked now. Vampires watched the corridors.

He stepped outside his room and nearly fell, pressing himself against the wall.

The elder vampire stood waiting.

He tried to retreat. Failed.

The vampire grabbed him, dragged him back inside, and threw him onto the floor. The door slammed shut and locked.

“It’s over,” he said. “You don’t leave when you want anymore.”

The novice couldn’t stand.

“You feed when I say. You move when I allow it. Everything you do, I will know.”

He leaned close.

“You are not free. You are not a guest. You are mine.”

His hand pressed briefly against the novice’s wrist.

“Even cutting your hair without permission will have consequences."