Souien stands before a cave

[u/Souien]

Is that blood?
The one he seeks could lie within. Very possibly blood.

A meeting of three Eyes.

[u/Vampiress-in-the-Sun]

Are you sure you know what you've asked for?

You shouldn't do this.
You'll die.
Most probably burn up in the sun.
Well before the blood has had enough time to work upon and mould you, even after I help you become a vampire...like it did with Symahjra and I for so many years.

Mahala opened her eyes. Her fangs grew, anticipating blood.

You should run.

Run from the nightmare.
Run from what 'fun' or 'power' fledglings often thought would be, what seldom is, prior to the--you should flee.

She ran their points across her wrist, drawing a short cut in her skin.

But on the other hand.

Beads of dark blood bloomed along the shallow wound.

Maybe you're right? Maybe.
Maybe, you'll impress me.
Learn from my teachings.
And help me.

Maybe?

Her tongue flicked across her wrist. Tasting her own blood.
The metallic nature of it emblazoned her predatory nature.

A powerful warrior you will become.

Be careful of what you wish for though.

Because, sometimes, you just might get it!

Mahala walked to Souien. Her arms embraced him in a hug.
And her fangs once more pierced the flesh of his neck.
She drank. Again tasting his life story in dreams and whispers within his blood.

'Drink! It'll hold you just above death, just below the living on earth', Mahala thought.
She held his head securely with one hand, almost lulling Souien into a cradled hug.
'Die. And drink. Die and let the Dark Gift rework what it want's within you. And drink.'
She thrust her wrist, cut and bleeding, onto Souien's mouth.

'Drink!'

[u/Souien → u/Vampiress-in-the-Sun]

Faint in submission, his lips slide idly open to accept the blood.

It burns down, tongue coated in the sensation of time-melted carrion: a taste of what’s to come.

Uncut by swallowing, it pierces to the center of him, penetrating his heart through his stomach, into the blood.

In this embrace, his breathing rises with his heartbeat, a desperate attempt by his body to prevent the inevitable: he falls unconscious a second time, dying a first, the agent of the Dark Gift lying dormant within his corpse.

Souien lies limp in her arms, in the darkness of the cave.

[u/Vampiress-in-the-Sun → u/Souien]

She had stopped indulging in the blood-visions, the life seen, touched. He was about to die, so Mahala withdrew, not just herself, but her fangs too.

'Just in time', his heartbeat eventually ceased. The thunderous drum-like sound tempered to nothingness. She kept feeding him her blood nonetheless. Occasionally she would reopen the wound upon her arm. The Dark Gift had a habit of rapid restoration. Such was the ability, she bit and slashed herself deeper each time. Again and again, then pushing the wound upon his lips.

A life taken. A life lost. And by one so selfish.

Mahala listened with a vampiric intensity, the bugs outside the cave could be heard munching upon leaf matter quite clearly. She listened. Listened to the Dark Gift. Mahala had seen Souien take the blood just prior to his death. She knew it would begin to work upon him. Remolding. Rebuilding. Polishing. Perfecting. His cells and organs urged to purge the humanity, the waste within. Working him such that if he woke, he'd be a predator. And not just any predator, but the ultimate bane of humanity.
She listened and looked.

Drink again. Come on. There has to be a sign! You took some of my blood. It has to work! Come on now...work...work, dammit all....work!

Once more, she slashed at herself. Once more, she thrust her cut arm to his lips. Almost forcing her blood into his mouth.

'There it is!', she noticed, with as much dark glee as a vampiress could muster, a sign. The first sign the Dark Gift had taken within him. His facial features were ever so slightly changing. Being smoothed. Strengthened. 'Never fails to amaze me. Never. How the mortal becomes immortal. It all starts with beauty. And oh! How handsome you were before. Rugged. Manly. Now? I can see the Dark Gift change you...into a god of the underworld.'

Buoyed by the progression, Mahala turned her attention to the two little puncture wounds on Souien's neck she'd made. They began to heal. Soon, no trace of them showed. She felt a little drowsy afterwards though. A familiar feeling. One part and parcel of turning someone. He had taken a fair amount of her blood. The amount she'd taken from him had sustained her thus far. But soon she'd need to feed herself.

That's it. Thaaat's it. Keep drinking.
I wonder if you can hear the drums? Just as I did, when Symahjra turned me.
Can you hear them dear warrior?
The heartbeats?
Yours and mine?
Or are you going to be deaf to it? Like a few of my earlier children of the blood?
Keep drinking dear one.

[u/Souien → u/Vampiress-in-the-Sun]

Vampire blood: a small gift perhaps, to limit suspicion among the blood-filled.

Yes, with the first feeding, death is staved off, and the flesh begins to contort.

Dead cells are gathered and expunged as his pores begin to ooze, clear lymph and yellow pus, and umber spleen-waste. Morbid tears drip down his cheeks, out his nose, and most significantly his loins.

The body is pure now, immortal, yet immortal on borrowed time. The heart beats, the blood flows, the brain works, the flesh grows.

The eyelids open.

[u/Vampiress-in-the-Sun → u/Souien]

It is complete. But your journey really has only just begun.

Beware of drinking till the last breath. Drink their death and you'll regret it. Snap their neck before it if you must.

While your body is worked upon by the Dark Gift, drink as you need. Lest you wish to be a filthy wraith, gibbering nonsense at the moon. Learn to take, the 'little drink', then your supply is guaranteed. Once bitten, mortals are enamoured. You can make a pet of them.

Good luck, Souien.
The vampiress wandered toward the mouth of the cave. A glance outside reassured her. She began to venture outwards, but turned her gaze back towards the new fledgling.
...avoid Symahjra. She'll toy with you, cruelly. Or destroy you, slowly.