Ezriel has accepted the encounter. Your target has been hexed and transformed into an animal against their will. Unable to turn back they need to try to find allies who can understand their problem and find a way to undo the curse.
With the weirdness that is Haven, and the Academy at the Blackfield Institute being no less of a source for said weirdness than the town proper, it should come as no surprise that there is a fucking Batapocalypse going on outside. It stands to reason that a few of these critters have worked their way into various buildings, and so it came to pass that Ezriel, in the boy's dorm in the academy, minding his own business for a change hears the tell tale sounds of a bat, fluttering about, squeaking, and trying to get out of the building it has managed to get itself locked into.
Ezriel lifts his head up, attention being pulled away from his phone as his hearing picks up the sound of a trapped bat somewhere nearby. He doesn't do a damned thing about it. At least, not for a long while before it likely turns out that the fluttering has not intention of ever ceasing in his lifetime. He huffs quietly, sliding his phone into his pocket before tugging himself off of the bed, attempting to pinpoint the direction of the fluttering.
The flapping and fluttering does not last nearly long enough to measure on Ezriel's lengthy life, before the bat falls onto his lap once he is seated. There is some flopping and floundering there before it rights itself and then manages to bite into his arm. It isn't a huge deal for most, their teeth aren't that big, since they eat gnats and such. And for Ezriel, the disease carrying aspect is probably less of an issue. Shortly after the bite though, the bat collapses, dead. And that's when the weirdness starts in earnest: The bat crumbles to ash, essentially evaporating into thin air.
"Gah!" Ezriel exclaims, the bat falling to his lap catching him off guard after he makes his way back to the bunk to seat himself. Then comes the bite, which causes him to wince- another move that caught him off guard. He tried to shrug it off of him, a reflexive act made involuntarily, though even before being able to reach for the animal his eyes widen as it crumbles to dust. "Holy shit." He says, quietly to himself.
Ezriel thinks; "...Was that a Vampire? Why the hell would it be fluttering in a school of all places?"
The wound inflicted on Ezriel's arm would not even register on most supernatural scales as anything more than a superficial annoyance, easily regenerated, quickly forgotten. It does not even bleed that long, before scabbing over. However, the scabs are black. And dark tendrils beneath the skin start to web out from them almost immediately, radiating out at a fair pace, lines crossing and criss crossing along the way, spreading up and down his arm.
For a few split moments, Ezriel seemed more concerned with the memory of that animal disintegrating, that he hadn't noticed black, vein like tendrils spreading up his arm until he looked down at himself. His eyes widen, and with a lack of anything to do he begins to hit his arm, as if that would halt the progress of whatever was happening to him.
Ezriel begins to roll up his sleeve quickly with his hand, parting his lips to expose a pair of fangs. He draws his arm up to his lips, fangs hovering over the spot that the bat previous bit, before beginning to puncture himself, as if to try and suck out whatever intrusive essence that might be spreading through. It's rather apparent it's an act of panic and paranoia. In his mind, he pictures himself exploding to ash, much like how the bat did, correlating that to whatever is spreading in his arm. It's all an act driven out of fear and self preservation
It goes without really saying that impact of a fist on the blackening veins does little to stop the progress of whatever is happening to Ezriel. Worse, as the lines spread, the areas between the lines start blackening as well, though much slower. The attempt at sucking out the poison or whatever it is seems like a good one, but the black ichor being produced from the wounds is one of the most foul-tasting things Ezriel has ever had in his mouth, and that says something, given his diet. Still, as much as he might suck and try to get the substance out of himself, the black web continues to grow and darken.
Ezriel spits out a mixture of that foul darkness and his own blood onto the ground as he continues to suck, quite obviously to no avail. He removes his blazer and shirt, before reaching for the blanket on whomever's bunk he currently occupies. He tugs it off of the bed, placing his foot on it as leverage before trying to rip off a piece with his hands. Whatever portion he'd rip off, he would try to use on his arm, tying a knot above whichever space on his arm that might be 'clean.' It's perhaps a sloppy attempt at a makeshift tourniquet.
Ezriel feels a strong desire to stop whatever is spreading through him.
Whatever the substance is, it does not actually seem to be spreading along any veins, so the makeshift tourniquet is ultimately ineffective against the spread. Once it reaches Ezriel's shoulder, it speeds up considerably, his arm blackened from the elbow down as more tendrils gain ground on his body.
Ezriel lets the tourniquet loosen as whatever spreads continues to do so despite his efforts. He slumps on the bed, looking close to hopelessness as he visibly wracks his brain for a feasible solution. He's slumped for a while before jerking up off of the bed to crouch beneath the bunk, digging through his belongings. In a hidden compartment in his suitcase he pulls out a small knife, which he then turns on himself. He slices into his arm deep enough to let blood flow without hindering how quickly he could heal from it. He keeps the knife in place so that he wounds don't begin to close upon it's removal, and he holds his arm out in such a way to see if whatever is spreading through him would simply pour out of the open wound and leave him.
As hopeful as Ezriel is about the inky black substance covering the inside of his body, the attempt at cutting the stuff out of him works to some degree. The black ichor does start to seap out of the opened wound, but starts spreading across the outside of his skin instead of dropping to the floor as desired. On the outside, the ichor spreads even more quickly, catching up to the under-skin portion in a matter of moments. And soon, it spreads over Ezriel's torso. And past, gaining speed the more ground is covered.
Ezriel's eyes widen as the substance instead spreads on the outside of his body. "....No fuckin' way..." He laments, disbelief wrought in his voice. He furrows his brow as he tries to think up another solution, and the only thing that pops into his mind, for now, is to try and emulate to someone else what happened to him. He looks around the room, trying to spot the sleeping form of any other boy in the dorm who may have cut class like he did.
Sadly, no one else is in the dorm but Ezriel. Even Rico is out somewhere, since the guitar is missing from his bunk. Probably playing somewhere on the bean bags. As the darkness continues to spread, Ezriel begins to feel light headed, his limbs stop working quite as he intended. The blackness starts climbing up his neck to start covering his face. He has a few more seconds before it will have covered him completely.
With no one in the dorm to even try to spread this to, Ezriel finds himself sorely out of options. In the last few seconds he has before this envelops him, he collapses to the ground- legs no longer working to keep him erect as intended.
Ezriel's world explodes in a sudden brilliance, a blast of intense white light. And then he is there on the floor, flopping around. Every sound he makes creates a whole new wave of vibrations, letting him see everything through the power of echolocation. And his hands and feet no longer feel quite the same. His clothes are gone, leaving him naked, but he is a bat!
Ezriel is left disoriented at the vibrations that shock him once the light leaves. He tries to stand, but not everything works as he was once used to before. He opens his mouth to speak, but instead comes a muffled screech from beneath the pile of clothing he's under, all of which sends another wave of vibrations through him that illuminates the scene in such a way he'd never thought possible. Or would ever ask for, to be honest, but welcome to Haven. He crawls out from under the pile, offering a few more screeches to see through echolocation and when that prove successful, it dawns to the boy that he's a bat, now.
And as a bat, Ezriel feels the same impulsive imparative that is driving all the bats in a three-state range to flock to Haven and start attacking people, biting them, and making sure that injuries are spread out amongst as much of the population as possible. Along with the transformation comes the essentials of locomotion, but most of Ezriel's other abilities are not that useful in this form. But he should be able to fly.
Driven by his urges, Ezriel begins to screech wildly, a method to satiate his desire to see, but also in the hopes that it would drive someone to the dorm to see what the noise was about. It takes him a bit of tries to get used to his newly formed wings, but after a few flaps he hopefully finds himself aloft. He begins flying around the room in quick fashion, screeching all the while.
Unlike the previous bat in the dorms, Ezriel can quickly and easily find an avenue of escape. A hollow spot behind a bunk leads to a crawl space that eventually leads to a vent allowing him full access to the open sky outside. And he would be able to find hundreds of bats out there waiting for him to join their roving pack of rabies delivery services.
The constant screeching that Ezriel has been doing has helped him locate the hollow space behind one of the bunks. He drops to the ground, crawling beneath the bunk through the crawl space, to the vent that eventually led him outside. A few more screeches leave him to provide him spacial awareness, and soon he's aloft in the air, soaring through the open sky to find the other bats to join up in their rabid escapades.
And so Ezriel's night goes, swooping down and biting unsuspecting victims, infecting them with rabies, and sending countless dozens to the Clinic to seek medical assistance. The events of the night blend solidly into a blur of sonic pictures of people frozen in terror and skies filled with hundreds of companion bats milling together in the skies before diving their next victim. It is unknown how long he is at it, minutes, hours, all night, but eventually, he wakes up, back in his bunk, with two little black puncture marks on his arm. And no clothes on.