One of a kind

Nebula nodded, a hint of pride in her smile. "That's what I was hoping to hear. Now, let's begin your real training, George. It's time you learned what it truly means to be a vampire."

George leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration. "So before we begin, I have to ask, that thing, I mean that form I took when fighting the other vampire, and even earlier in the alley when we first met... what exactly was that?"

Nebula nodded, her expression serious. "That, George, was your Night Crawler form. It's a protective mechanism, almost like your body's autopilot when you're in extreme danger or need."

George shook his head, a look of confusion crossing his face. "But the last time, I was able to control it. I knew exactly what I was doing. It wasn't just some out-of-control beast I unleashed when things got dire."

"You're right," Nebula agreed. "The Night Crawler form isn't just a mindless beast. As you've experienced, you can learn to control it. However," she cautioned, "there may be times when you lose control, particularly when you're extremely hungry. Like in the alley. That's why it's crucial you don't let yourself get too starved."

George nodded, processing this information. Then another thought struck him. "This morning, when I woke up, I felt that same heightened awareness I experience in the Night Crawler form. What does that mean?"

Nebula's eyes lit up with interest. "It's almost as if your two sides are coming together, becoming one."

Suddenly, George remembered something. "Wait a minute. The night I encountered the vampire, I had gone out because I was starving. But when I woke up today, I wasn't hungry at all. No dizziness, none of the usual signs."

Nebula smiled knowingly.

George caught her expression. "Did you have something to do with that?"

Nebula nodded. "When I found you unconscious that night, you were wounded. Healing you would have required more magic than I could muster at the moment. So I may or may not have fed you some blood to help you recover."

George sat up straight, staring at her in shock. "Wait, you fed me your blood?"

Nebula shrugged. "Just enough to heal you without killing me. And looking at you now, it seems to have worked."

George fell silent, staring at Nebula. His mind was racing, wondering what he had done to deserve such help. Since they'd met, Nebula had done nothing but good for him – well, except for the kidnapping part. Her actions had all been beneficial.

But in this world of countless secrets that he was discovering every day, how could he trust her? How could he trust a witch? The thought gnawed at him, even as he acknowledged her apparent kindness.

George fell silent, his thoughts racing through his mind:

'A vampire... I'm really a vampire. And this "Night Crawler" form... it's part of me now. I can control it, but I need to be careful when I'm hungry. Letting myself starve is definitely not an option anymore.'

He glanced at Nebula, considering her actions.

'She's been nothing but helpful since we met. Well, apart from the whole kidnapping thing. But she's taught me so much already, and she even gave me her blood to heal me. Maybe... maybe seeing more of her wouldn't be such a bad idea.'

His expression hardened slightly. 'But barging into my house? That's not okay. Witch or not, we need to set some boundaries. I appreciate her help, but I need my space and privacy.'

Finally, he reflected on the bigger picture. 'There's still so much I don't know. Vampires that are out there, probably a whole community of them. Then this curse... It's a lot to take in. And can I really trust her? Can I trust anyone in this new world I've been thrown into?'

George took a deep breath, realizing he had a lot to consider and many decisions to make in the near future. But with caution, maybe he could figure it all out. Find a cure for this...thing.

George, still processing the information, furrowed his brow as another question came to mind. "Nebula, there's something else I don't understand. During the fight, that vampire used attacks I couldn't replicate - especially one he called a 'Bloodline Craft'. Why can't I do the same?"

Nebula nodded, expecting this question. "Ah, yes. The Bloodline Craft. You see, George, vampire abilities, particularly their blood techniques, are not uniform. They develop over time and are often influenced by their lineage."

She leaned forward, her eyes alight with the passion of sharing knowledge. "Each vampire bloodline has its own unique abilities that manifest as they grow stronger and older. These are what we call Bloodline Crafts. They're techniques passed down through generations of vampires, refined and strengthened over time."

"But remember," she continued, "you weren't turned in the traditional way. Your abilities might develop differently. With time and practice, you may discover your own unique Bloodline Craft. It could be something entirely new, given your unconventional transformation."

Nebula paused, making sure George was following. "Blood techniques, in general, are abilities that all vampires can learn to some degree. These include things like accelerated healing, enhanced strength, or even manipulating blood outside their bodies. But Bloodline Crafts are special, more powerful techniques unique to certain vampire lineages."

She smiled encouragingly at George. "Don't be discouraged that you can't do what that vampire did. Your journey is just beginning. With time and training, you'll discover your own strengths and abilities. And given your unique situation, who knows? You might develop abilities that even I haven't seen before."

George listened to Nebula's encouragement, but a question nagged at him. He couldn't help but ask, "Nebula, how do you know so much about vampires? About all of this?"

Nebula shook her head with a slight smile, turning to walk towards the kitchen. As she moved, she called back over her shoulder, "When you've lived for two centuries, you tend to know most things."

George's eyes widened at this casual revelation, his mind racing with the implications of Nebula's age and the wealth of knowledge she must possess.