A Horst prompt for you: something with cake, possibly during his childhood? Or perhaps after the whole vampirism incident, when they're no longer edible or taste like ash or however one chooses to interpret a vampire's relationship with food.
Horst Cabal, the vampire, looked at a small squashed cake. Ā It was a cream-filled vanilla article from one of the concession stands. Ā Heād been escorting a lady, and it seemed more companionable to get one for each of them. Ā Sheād eaten hers, and heād taken a few mouthfuls from her behind the ghost train, and Ā then sheād suddenly felt tired. Ā Heād escorted her back to the gates. Ā She was safer away from all this.
The carnival was strange. Ā He sat on the roof of the train and watched it from a distance. Ā The May night was cool, but it didnāt bother him. Ā It was a revelation to be out of the tomb, to talk to real people and feel the air on his face, but the workers smelled of brimstone and sulphur: the zombies of rot. Ā The only beating heart on the train was his brotherās. Ā He could hear it now, thudding sullenly in the office.
Horst had blood, at least, but it was a pleasure that blotted out everything else, and that worried him. Ā He distracted himself with the work of the carnival. Ā Heād made a promise - to Johannes, but still. Ā It kept him from thinking about blood all day. Ā He watched the crowds mill through the carnival from his perch, temporarily above it all. He should be down there, welcoming people, watching the hell-things. Ā
He broke off a corner of the cake, put it in his mouth. Ā He spat it out. Ā Oh! Ā It was like eating sand soaked in perfume; repulsive. Ā He moved to throw the cake away, but he stopped; he was reluctant. Ā HeĀ couldnāt eat it, but he still wanted it. Ā What was he going to do, keep the thing in his pocket? Ā He pushed it off the edge of the train. Ā He heard it hit the ground. Ā It wasnāt important. Ā