The Night after Halloween is quiet. David did not party for halloween, he did not feed, he walked amongst the crowds, smiling, waving and greeting them.
For it was their day of the dead, when the dead returned to life and walked amongst the living. To walk amongst the humans felt appropriate.
But tonight, the night after, he is hungry. There is trash in bushes, trees are draped in toilet paper. Eggs, symbols of life, are washed off of homes. Nature is despoiled, and for a few moments, David can understand the Lance's desire to punish the guilty. But the moment passes. Humans are humans, and Vampires are Vampires. Their desecration should be punished for his sake, not for theirs. His target for the night is drunk, and David wonders if he ever stopped being drunk from the night before. David has followed him, as he made of himself a nuisance, harming the land.
David is swift in his assault. A sharp kidney jab while the pain pisses in an alley, followed up by a kick to the testicles. The man writhes in pain, David holding him on his knees.
He moans, too hurt to speak, tears running down his face as his piss turns red. The blood excites David, calling to him. He sees the arteries in the neck, pulsing with blood.
He bites. The euphoria of the pain tastes of madness and revenge.
He feels the Goddess, the Crone, the Queen of the Night, and in that moment, he is awestruck with her power.
He feels the pulse quicken even more, and he reluctantly lets go, licking the wound closed. Salvaging the man's wallet he pulls out just enough money for a bus fare. Discarding the rest in a trash can, he wipes his mouth clean, and walks on, the power of the blood thrumming in his veins.
He is Her servant, and she rewards those who serve her well.