(A/N: Those of you who remember this fic will find a few minor differences from its original posting, nearly six years ago. I hope it doesn't disrupt the flow too much, and that you will still enjoy it!

Thanks,
Banj)

…

"Oh!" The young woman gave a startled gasp, her long purple hair flowing down her back as she pressed herself close to her lover. The lovely ballroom music stopped abruptly, everyone freezing in the middle of their dances. "A-Anton…" She trembled, glancing over his shoulder.

The young man called Anton glanced backwards before turning back to his young fiancée. He smiled softly, his large blue eyes comforting her with little more than a gaze. "Fear not, my dear." His velvet-like voice commanded the attention of the entire room. He brushed a lock of his wavy blonde hair behind his ear before turning to face the intruders that had so startled his love. Slowly Anton walked towards the tall man and young boy across from him; his cape flowed with every step. "They're just the main course for this evening. And my, don't they look fresh…"

Professor Layton gave his surroundings a quick glance, realizing a moment too late that he and his young apprentice, Luke, were trapped by the other ballroom dancers that had hemmed them in. He darted a glance up to Anton as the younger man blinked slowly before allowing his pointed fangs to show with a small grin.

"P—professor!" Luke cried out in terror, quivering as he stepped closer to Layton. The dancers around them suddenly had blood-red, thirsty gazes that were focused directly on the two unwelcome guests.

Layton grimaced, never breaking his gaze from Anton. How had they ended up here? Perhaps…perhaps all of those rumors that they had heard in the town were true…

…

Layton snapped awake with a gasp, glancing around wildly before realizing that he was not in the same place he had fallen asleep in. He remembered falling asleep in the ornate guest room in Herzen Castle, but he was now in a small, dingy room – and, he noted, bound tightly by a rope. Layton closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. After all, panicking in a situation such as this was useless; he needed his head clear so that he was able to think.

A soft moan startled him out of his thoughts. The professor suddenly realized that he was not alone, and that his young apprentice was in this unpleasant room with him. He opened his eyes to find Luke hanging from a set of shackles on the wall, directly across from him. The young boy's eyes were closed—he was squinting uncomfortably—and his breathing was slightly erratic. Though Layton knew that panicking was worthless, he couldn't help but find that watching Luke's obvious distress was causing him to worry.

"Luke, my boy," he called, working to free himself from his bindings. "Are you alright?"

Luke moaned slightly, opening his eyes and glancing up at the professor with a glazed look. "…professor, where are we…?" he asked quietly.

But before Layton could answer, the door suddenly swung open, revealing the current duke of Folsense and the man who had invited them to stay the night at his home—Anton.

"I—it's you!" Luke gasped. Anton smirked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Oh, lovely…you're awake," he chuckled lowly, blue eyes flickering between his two captives. "It's been far too long since I've encountered prey so…feisty…"

"Anton? What sort of madness is this?" Layton demanded, still fighting his bonds.

Luke growled. "I KNEW it!" he cried, struggling against his shackles. "You ARE a vampire!"

Anton let out another chortle. "Well, if that's the case," he said, "then it was rather foolish for you to venture here, wouldn't you say?" He stepped in front of Luke, his lips curling up in a slight sneer. "…but I'm afraid it's too late now. I must begin preparations." His grin revealed a glimpse of a fang. "I certainly hope that you two have been enjoying each other's company…after all, it was your last chance."

Layton strained against the rope binding him, realizing that this situation was quickly taking a dangerous turn. His mind raced furiously; one part of him screaming that vampires didn't exist and that there was no way this was happening…the other part of him knew that whether or not vampires existed, he and Luke were in grave danger if he could not free himself in enough time. He needed to keep Anton talking…

"Anton, what do you plan to do with us?" Layton asked, trying to keep his voice level as he fought with the knots behind his back. His eyes never left Anton's; he hoped that keeping Anton's gaze would prevent him from discovering Layton's attempt at escaping.

Anton lifted his head slightly, looking down his nose at Layton. "In simple terms, Layton," he replied, "I plan to make a meal out of you…or your young apprentice." He laughed quietly. "I have not yet decided which one of you will taste better…the other one of you I shall keep in here for the next time I have an insatiable craving." He knelt in front of the professor, staring directly into his prisoner's brown eyes. "And don't think that I haven't realized what you are trying to do." He reached his arms around behind Layton, smirking as the professor blanched. He grasped the knot that Layton had nearly managed to undo, and pulled the rope tightly, ruining the work that Layton had put into escaping. Layton let out a slight hiss of pain as the rope dug into his wrists.

"Hey!" Luke shouted, drawing Anton's attention to him. "Stop it—you're hurting him!"

Layton quickly realized what Luke was trying to do. "N-no, Luke!" he cried, but it was too late. Anton rose and turned to face the young boy.

"I believe that you are in a poor position to be making demands of me," Anton murmured, pressing Luke harder against the wall. As he stared into the boy's eyes, he suddenly realized the effect that his actions were having on Layton—and the smell of his blood. He glanced over his shoulder at Layton and grinned evilly. "You care deeply for this boy, do you not, Layton?" he spat.

For once, Layton didn't know how to answer. He knew a gentleman should never tell a lie, but he also knew that telling the truth would probably lead to Anton doing horrible, unthinkable things to Luke. It seemed that in this instance, there was no correct answer, and no way out.

Layton took a deep breath before answering. "No," he said, unable to keep his voice from shaking. "I…I never wanted to…to be his mentor."

Luke, believing these words to be true, gave the professor a hurt and astonished look. "P…professor…why?" His voice cracked and his eyes started to water. He couldn't believe that after all this time, the professor would allow him to be thrown to the dogs…

"Hmm." Anton pondered this for a moment. "Well, if you truly do not care for this boy…I'm sure that you would not object to my choice—he shall be my first meal…"

Layton's breath hitched in his throat as he watched Anton turn to Luke, unbuttoning the top button of the boy's shirt. Anton chuckled, murmuring 'easier access to your neck, boy' as he jerked Luke's sweater down around his shoulders. Luke gave a shuddering whimper as Anton found his pulse line and grinned, exposing his fangs.

Layton couldn't take it anymore. "No, Anton," he begged, "please, do not harm Luke…I…I thought that if I said I did not care for him…" He lowered his head in shame, his top hat casting a shadow over his chocolate brown eyes. "…I thought that perhaps you would spare him…"

Anton hissed. "I would not recommend lying to me again, Layton," he said, his face drawing into a thin line. "Else your young Luke will be the one to take the fall for your deceitfulness…"

Luke couldn't take Anton's horrid mind games another moment. "Stop it!" he screamed. "Stop threatening the professor!"

Anton suddenly whirled around, slamming Luke into the wall. He could hear Layton's pulse quicken as Luke cried out in pain. "I shall do whatever I please," Anton snarled. He pressed his body against Luke's before tilting the boy's head up and tracing his ice-cold tongue down Luke's carotid artery, taking immense pleasure in the frightened squirm it brought forth from Luke. Anton could smell the change in Layton's blood as the boy whimpered, trying to mask his fear. "Mmm, do not try to fight it," he murmured. "Your fear makes Layton's blood smell so delicious…"

Luke tried to writhe away from Anton. "No, please," he begged. "Not the professor…" Even in his own moment of peril, he couldn't help but try to protect Layton. It was the least he could do, after all that Layton had done for him… But despite his show of bravery, he couldn't help but cry out as Anton tested a fang against his tender skin.

Layton pulled frantically at his ropes, hoping that if he could get free, he might be able to force Anton away from Luke… "Anton, please," Layton pleaded, "stop this madness!"

Anton let out a low laugh, smirking at Layton over his shoulder as he continued to tease Luke's skin with his long, bony fingers. "Mmm, begging," he hummed. "I can tell that this boy…he stirs strong emotions in you, Layton…" He knelt in front of Layton and bared his fangs. "My original intent was to have the boy turn on you…however, the smell of your blood is impossible to resist…I believe that such a succulent flavor would be wasted on a newborn vampire…" He gave a throaty chuckle. "I apologize that your young protégé will not get to taste your delicious blood…but my reasoning is purely selfish."

Layton's heart skipped a beat. "No, Anton—you shall not harm him!"

Now Anton broke into a full-out, wicked laugh. "Oh, Professor, I believe you are a bit slow on the uptake…no, I shall not harm him…but you will."

A sinking feeling settled deep inside of Layton as he realized just what Anton was saying, but he was jerked out of his thoughts by Luke's voice. "Don't listen to him, Professor!" Luke shouted, thrashing against his shackles. "I won't let you!"

Anton turned his attention back to Luke, lightly dragging his fingers down Luke's adam's apple. "Oh, dear boy," he breathed, "you shall have no say in the matter…once Layton gets a whiff of your blood, even I will not be able to keep him off of you…" He gently—almost lovingly—nipped Luke's neck, greatly enjoying the thrashing and the helpless whimper of terror it drew from Luke. "Hmmm…your taste is not quite to my liking…but I am sure that to Layton, any taste will do…" He touched Luke's pink cheeks, smirking. "Are you trying to taunt me, boy?" he laughed. "These pools of blood collecting certainly make it difficult to ignore your aroma…" Luke couldn't help but let out a frightened mew at Anton's words.

Layton heard a fierce growl and was surprised to feel it rumble in his own throat. "Anton…stop this immediately," he ordered. "I shall not allow you to torture him any longer."

Anton grinned ferociously. "Oh, it won't be much longer, Layton," he promised. "You are almost at your peak…and then you will be all mine." He pressed Luke's small body roughly against the wall once more, testing the boy's tender neck with his sharp fangs. The anticipation of fearing just what was going to happen to him, steeped with his raw terror, caused Luke to cry out and a few tears to slip down his cheeks.

"P—professor," Luke whimpered, completely at Anton's mercy, "…help me…" Seeing his apprentice so vulnerable and utterly terrified caused Layton to snap; his fury engulfed any rational thought he had.

"ANTON!" Layton roared, struggling furiously to reach Luke. In the blink of an eye, Anton was kneeling over top of him, his knees on either side of Layton's hips. Anton pressed the professor against the wall, his fangs affectionately ghosting over Layton's neck.

"And there it is," he chuckled darkly, "your breaking point." He plunged his fangs into Layton, relishing the initial scream of pain from the older man, as well as the agony-laced moan as Anton began to suck Layton's blood.

Luke screamed, feeling as if he were going to throw up. The professor…so easily overpowered… He choked back a sob. If the professor had been unable to protect himself, what sort of hope did Luke have?

Anton paused, seeming almost star-struck. "I was correct," he purred, staring into Layton's hazy eyes. "Your flavor is unbelievably delicious…" Anton's fingers worked nimbly to undo the ropes binding Layton as he continued to drain the blood from his captive, enjoying Layton's moans of pain—perhaps even savoring them.

Luke's mind raced frantically, trying to piece together Anton's actions. Why would Anton untie the professor? It doesn't make sense unless—Oh God. Everything suddenly clicked into place. Anton wasn't planning to devour the professor. Oh, no—not right away at least.

He planned to turn him into a vampire.

Luke screamed in terror, knowing that nobody could hear him, and yet hoping that someone would. But he imagined that they were far away from anybody who could rescue them. Or maybe they would just rescue Luke; by the sound of the professor's weakening moans, Luke could tell that Layton didn't have much time left.

And by association, neither did he.

Luke gave up on screaming when Anton rose, tossing aside the rope that had bound Layton. At this point, Luke knew it was too late to be saved. The professor was slumped on the ground, top hat askew and eyes screwed shut in pain. His breathing was labored and irregular, and Luke briefly wondered if he was dying. He was startled out of his thoughts when Anton unlocked his shackles, sending him falling to the floor. Luke looked up, a terrified expression on his face as Anton smirked.

"I believe it's a wonderful time for a little game of cat and mouse, dear boy," Anton chuckled. "Once Layton wakes up, the transformation will be complete, and as the only human in the room, Layton will hone in on your blood immediately. I do apologize though; he will not have his usual, ah—self-control. You may die…you may not…it all depends on how thirsty he will be."

Luke pressed himself against the wall, afraid to move and afraid to remain still. He held his breath, eyes widening as Layton slowly opened his eyes. The professor's eyes, once a warm brown, were now a cold, blood red. Luke watched as Layton's gaze skittered around before finally settling on his apprentice.

Layton's newly-implanted senses kicked in, and he let out an almost inhuman snarl before lunging across the room and slamming Luke against the floor. The young boy cried out in pain and tried to struggle away before realizing that the professor had an incredibly strong hold on him. Luke met Layton's eyes and, in one last-ditch effort to save himself, began to babble anything that came into his mind.

"P—Professor, it's me—Luke! Luke Triton, remember? You—you brought me into your home when I wanted to be your apprentice! You took me in, made me your apprentice, and taught me so much about puzzles! Don't you remember? You were showing me a puzzle right before we fell asleep and ended up here…" He stared into his mentor's eyes, watching in amazement as they began to flicker between cadmium red and his original soft brown.

"…Luke?" Layton's forehead crinkled as he stared at Luke. Luke nodded frantically, searching for his voice to continue talking and perhaps keep Layton sane long enough to get out of the room… "Luke…"

"…yes, professor?" Luke asked softly, staring into Layton's eyes.

But Luke never found out what the professor wanted to tell him, because without warning his eyes became a blood-red once more and Layton struck, sinking his fangs deep into Luke's jugular vein. A rational side of Layton screamed that this act of monstrosity should sicken him, disgust him, terrify him…

But his inhuman side couldn't help but realize just how wonderful Luke's pained screams were.

…

Layton awoke with a cry of horror, breathing heavily and searching his surroundings frantically before suddenly remembering that he was in the Folsense hotel—he had come here after escaping Herzen Castle with Luke…

Luke…!

Layton's gaze darted around before coming to rest on his sleeping apprentice—in the bed across the room, right where he had been when Layton first fell asleep.

Layton breathed a sigh of relief and let out a shaky chuckle. Quite frightening how vivid dreams can be, though one always realizes that they are just a figment of one's overactive imagination…

He lay back down and rolled over, but found that he unable to sleep—Luke's dying screams from his nightmare were still too fresh in his mind.

Layton quietly rose from his bed and walked silently across the room to Luke's sleeping form. He gently slid his arms under the young boy's body and carefully lifted him up, managing not to wake him. As he carried Luke, Layton was surprised by the passing thought of I wonder if this is the fear a father feels regarding the safety of his children?

Attributing the thought to a combination of his restless sleep and terror, Layton shook the thought off and returned to his bed, pulling Luke's small body close to him as he lay down. Though he was sure that the boy would wonder upon waking what in the world had happened, having Luke's warm body and hearing the boy's steady heartbeat was just the comfort that Layton needed to finally fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

…

(I originally called this a "Fail ending", so many years ago. While I know I always have room to improve, looking back I'm actually quite proud of how this turned out. I will still gladly accept any feedback that anyone would be willing to give me!

Thanks,

Banj

Edited on 7/15/14: Minor changes and a few repetitive words were removed. Luke's backstory mentioned very briefly towards the end no longer fit with established canon, so it was edited as well. The biggest edit is probably the addition of the thought that Layton has about fathers and their children.)