About the smoke... it something like what you suggested. It has... many other uses as well though. 
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As George sleeps peacefully for the moment, a cage is forged around him, a dark presence slipping in and out of his memories. A sharp and rasp voice echoes within the confines of his mind, black smoke slithering up George's neck as he sleeps.
"You have... been marked... Jedi..."
Images flash before George in rapid succession, blurring together.
"Now witness..."
His mind fades to black, a vision slowly emerging. A pale face looks down on George, black smoke wisping around a bandaged hand, a seemingly dead body suspended in his other arm. It is from earlier. Razvan.
"Foolish boy..." his dark voice seems to bite.
Suddenly the vision blurs and fades, immediately replaced by another one. An armored figure has his back to George, dark mane-like hair flowing down to the small of his back, vaguely blowing in the wind. George's sister is crushed in the figure's arms, the pain in her face evident, shocked eyes starring blankly at George over the figure's shoulder as her soul is mercilessly ripped from her body by unforgiving fangs.
She begins to wither before George's eyes and before he can react... she turns to dust which easily escapes the figure's grasp to freedom. The figure arches his back, muscles hardening, bones popping into place. A chilling laugh rings in George's ears.
Tears sting George's eyes and he rushes towards the figure in anger, pulling his sister's lightsaber into his hand. Before he can activate it the figure turns on him, eyes full of haunting black smoke contrasting pale skin. His hand crushes down around George's skull, lifting the struggling boy off the floor with little effort.
He pulls the lightsaber from the child's hand, studying it. His black eyes lift to George's, smoke clawing its way from the sockets like tentacles only to be sucked back into the storm which burns within the man's eyes.
"Foolish boy," a familiar dark voice growls.
Once more everything fades it black. The raspy voice George heard at the beginning of this vision returns to his mind. "Your future..."
Another vision emerges with a spark of light, silver clashing against black rage in a heated duel. A push of Force causes the two figures to slid away from each other, revealing George and Razvan. Razvan's black lightsaber seems to hum with life, consumed by blackened smoke it pulses with heart-like rhythm as Razvan's voice claws its way into George's mind.
"Come, Jedi... meet the fate which has awaited you for far too long."
George rushes forward, fueled by his anger. Razvan lips curl into a wicked grin as he falls to one knee, stabbing his lightsaber into the ground. A blaze of red energy erupts and flashes forward, completely consuming George and the Jedi cannot prevent the cries of pain torn from his throat.
He tries to fight against it but the energy holds him in place. Razvan stands to his feet, ripping his lightsaber from the ground as he advances towards George. The energy constricts around George, crushes the Jedi's weakened body, forcing him to his knees. Black smoke swirls around his clenched fists, boring beneath his skin.
Razvan stands before him now, the bandages around the upper part of his face torn, smoking black eyes peeking out from beneath the shredded remains.
"You cannot fight this, Jedi..." Razvan continues.
George's back arches in pain and he roars at his inability to strike out and kill the man. His revenge. It was within his grasp and yet so far away. No. NO! Tendrils of black consume his eyes and his pupils burn gold. Razvan's voice echoes in his mind.
"This... is your fate..."
...Unidentified Stealth Craft; unknown location...
Rotel strolls into the cockpit, his heavy boots clinking against the metal floor of the ship. Zorvon lets his comrade know he’s taken notice of his presence with a simple glance over his shoulder. However, he quickly returns to his task, inserting new coordinates into the navicomputer. Rotel always spoke his mind; Zorvon knew he didn’t need to pry.
“Are you sure this is wise, Zorvon?” he questions. “Taking up a bounty on a Jedi from a shade is not the best course of action if we are trying to redeem ourselves and aid the Republic...”
Zorvon pauses but doesn’t turn to look at Rotel. “I took the job, Rotel, but I never agreed we’d kill the Jedi. If the bastard wants him dead so bad he can do it himself. We’re going after whatever it is he seems so hellbent on getting his hands on. If it’s really as great a threat as he makes it out to be... we’ll be doing them all a favor.”
Rotel shakes his head. “But at what cost? We take it from the Republic only to throw it into the hands of a shade?” he scoffs slightly. “From the frying pan into the flames.”
Zorvon leans forward, resting an elbow on the ship’s navigational console. Steady fingers slides past his hairline, digging into the roots of silvered hair as he lets out a heavy sigh. “Life’s not so simple, Rotel. It’s not all black and white. Sometimes there’s no way out. You have to understand,” he adds slowly. “Sometimes the best course of action... is to choose the lesser of two evils.”
...Unknown location...
White robes -complimented by black seams -dance in the wind as the figure glances down at the corpse. He retains an air of disinterest.
"Well, well... what do we have here?" a calm voice ponders, darkness and evil hidden deep beneath a polite charade which could fool even the most trained Jedi.
"I am... sorry... Master," a raspy voice answers, obviously struggling with the words. "There was... no other way... to clean up his... mess..."
"I see," the figure says, looking up at his subordinate. "His heart, Razvan."
"Yes, Master..." Razvan nods, reaching into the sack resting on his hip to remove the blackened heart. He kneels on one knee and holds the heart above his head as if offering a sacrifice to a god.
The figure pulls the heart to him with a flick of his wrist. A haunting purple glow surrounds the beating heart.
"They say a bad student... means a bad master. I will not tolerate failure, Saro," the voice adds with eerie calmness, his fingers constricting around the heart, the organ straining beneath the excess pressure. "Be assured... the next time you disappoint me... I'll devour everything of you."
The purple glow around the beating heart fades faintly and the figure smile slightly. "You understand. Good."
With those word the figure's grip loosens on the heart which falls to the ground next to the corpse. Oily slick tentacles shoot out from the heart and attach themselves to the body, pulling the heart towards it. When the heart settles itself into the hole in the body's chest it begins to glow brightly, strips of flesh stretching to pull the hole closed.
Saro's eyes open, emitting a a deep purple light as his back arches. His mouth opens in a silent cry of pain, purple light shining from within. Finally he collapses and the light seems to shatter and disperse, his entire body steaming as if cooling from flames. Despite the pain he immediately pulls himself to his knees.
"I am sorry, Master..."
The figure pays no attention to the apology. "Apologies are meaningless, Saro. It does not erase failure."
"Yes, Master," Saro replies humbly.
The figure is slightly annoyed by Saro but does not show it, his face remaining emotionless and his voice steadily calm and polite. Perhaps that was the most frightening aspect of the situation.
The figure's gaze moves away from Saro to rest on the distant stars in the night sky. "But all is not lost."
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Weren't expecting me to switch your childhood up on you were you eh? Yeah... cause I'm bad like that. ^_^ So Razvan is actually the one who slaughtered your family. When he throws you against the wall (you don't see it in this vision but he does) you kinda banged your head up and mistook him for the Second. Tada. Plot twist! 
Also, the rasp voice in George's mind is not Razvan or any of the other vampire's. It's actually the smoke itself. OMG it's alive! lol A portion of the Red Sith's soul is trapped within the 'smoke' which Razvan has now become the Master of. Thus why it has so many capabilities and powers.
Razvan's laugh (ignore the voice, that's not how I want Razvan to sound; got another vid for it)
The figure's (Mortis's) voice and new appearance (hint: the brown haired guy is the one I'm using as Mortis)
Razvan's voice (black haired guy is Razvan's voice; how he sounds when he possesses the ability to speak orally or when he does so telepathically)
Be back tomorrow to post.
