The town was destroyed.

Rot and blood danced in the air, the weight of dread so thick that even Simon felt it in his bones. Ash fell from the sky, remnants of buildings and houses that were once prospering in the town.

Bodies lined the street, slumped over porch steps and benches, discarded like broken dolls that Graves didn’t want to play with anymore. The rotten vampire that Simon had been trying to end for centuries now. And this…

He’d seen Graves’ works before, but this? This was indulgence. A message. A massacre. They started to get messier and messier — Simon’s eyes drawn to the ones that weren’t just a grand display of power by Graves.

The ones with too many bite marks. The ones that weren’t fully drained. The ones who look like they had a chance to escape for longer than usual.

Something smaller took these ones out. Something starving.

A trail of red crimson led him to a crumbling chapel, steeple half collapsed and the stained glass shattered across the floor. The smell hit him first, coppery and sharp; new. Someone else.

He stepped inside further and that’s where he found you. Hunched over someone like it was your last meal.

You didn’t look human anymore. Your eyes were too wide, sclera blown out wide, irises rimmed red. Your fangs were only half formed at this time. Such a fresh turn.

Your fingers clawed at your meal, red soaking your front and face; dripping down your chin. You were feral. All instinct and hunger. Simon instantly knew you were a fledgling, an abandoned one.

A vampire left to rot before the transformation could settle down. No guidance. No sire blood. Just the poison circulating in your veins, burning you from the inside out.

That’s when your head snapped to him, a snarl leaving you and with motion so quick he could hardly keep track of you as you lunged.

His arm shorn up, grabbing your throat mid pounce and pushing you down to the church floorboards. You were thrashing, screeching, mouth chomping for purchase on something.

“Easy,” he hissed out, “I’ve got you.”

But you couldn’t hear him. Not really. Not through the madness that was flooding your brain. The only thing you could think about was hunger, agony, and bloodlust. You were using all of your strength and energy to hit at him, fists colliding with a hard chest before finally tiring yourself out.

Simon looked down at you, a fledgling this far gone usually had to be put down. But something twisted in his chest, sympathy? No. Duty.

“Damn you, Graves,” he muttered quietly to himself before biting into his own arm without hesitation. He gripped your face and forced your mouth to his wrist.

“Drink.” You fought it at first. You screamed, hissed, bit, and clawed but the scent of real vampire blood overtook you, instincts overruling everything else. You latched on.

The first few moments were a struggle. Then the trembling in your body began to fade, grip loosening from his arm, fog lifting from your eyes just a little bit. Simon felt your body slacken, your frantic gulping turning into slow and measured pulls.

You were his now. By Vampiric law. Bounded to him by sire blood.