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"But the People of Wood had no hearts, and forgot their Creators; for that reason the gods determined to destroy this attempt at humanity, as they had the People of Mud. And so a rain of resin fell upon the People of Wood; and the Gods sent...Camazotz, the vampire, to cut off their heads, and Jaguar, to rend their flesh..."

--Fragment of the Popol Vuh, translated from Quiche Mayan by Max Herrmann, Guatemala journal, July 14, 1974

David couldn't tell you what the Hell happened when his Dad disappeared in the Guatemala highlands back when he was ten. Max had never been exactly a fixture in his life--always off on this or that dig or investigation, copping out on the whole Dad thing to go be arcaheologist of the fucking century or something. He wasn't really a bad guy or anything--he just sorta did the wife and kid thing as a token to normalcy. Whatever. That's just how a guy learns to be self-sufficient early. And when family doesn't work? You can always go build your own.

Santa Carla, California. Once upon a time he'd shared a tiny house on the beach there with a pill-popping Mombie the Frog Brothers might have found familiar. Freedom. It's a wonderful thing. There have always been throwaway kids around Santa Carla--the place seems to attract them. David never had a problem finding kindred spirits. To hang with. Have...fun with. Carve out territory with.

But then Dad came back.

It must have shocked Max a little to realize he'd been gone nine years and returned to an absent wife and a son who had gone from a gutsy kid to a cheerful hell-raiser of a young man. But by then his perspective on life had been...altered. A lot.

David doesn't know about the Camazotl, the flying, shadow-loving vampires of Mesoamerican legend. He doesn't know that they're more than a legend, or that that's why his face goes batlike when he's sufficiently pissed off. He only knows that when Dad came back, the bastard offered to reconcile over a bottle of...wine.

It was his way of getting control of his boy back--by becoming his Master Vampire. By infecting his boys, too--co-opting the family David had made and putting himself at its head. Reducing them to petty acts of teenage defiance while they hated every moment of his control. In the end, Max's desire for a new wife ended up cannon-foddering every last one of them. All of David's boys. Nearly him, too.

And then karma caught up with dear old Daddy, and he burned. Freeing everyone from the blood who hadn't turned...and making David into a Master.

Being impaled on six or seven animal horns, including through the heart, hurts like a sonofabitch. So does realizing that your boys are gone, you're outnumbered and outgunned, and the only thing that your sad ass can do to survive the situation is to run. See, nowhere in all the vampire hunters' infocomics and other crap does it say anything about vampires being killed by anything but wood through the heart. Like a stake. Or an arrow shaft. Not a set of animal horns. And David, being a sneaky bastard who could cause minor illusions, simply...put on a nice light show, played dead, let them kill Max, and got the Hell out.

Now he's alone. Free, but missing his Boys. He's been wandering for a long time. Maybe it's time for him to settle down somewhere well outside Santa Carla. Put down some roots.

Start a family.

Care to have a drink with him?

*********

David is, of course, from the awesome movie The Lost Boys. I am not him, or Kiefer Sutherland.

I've added a bunch of backstory which explains not only some of this vampire race's traits, but also certain scenes and relationships in the movie. For the purposes of this version, Max (David's biological father) and the Lost Boys are dead, David has his free will back, and he survived his impalement using a combination of the "vampire hunters"' ignorance and the illusion powers he used to play tricks on Michael.

David's pretty formidable for a young vampire. Pretty much any wound he suffers closes instantly, though electricity and fire cause problems. He is a powerful flier, capable of carrying his enormous Triumph motorcycle into the air, and of moving at tremendous speeds. He has a form of sonar which allows him to maneuver quickly in complete darkness, and he has the usual compliment of superhuman strength and reflexes and natural weaponry. In addition, he can cast glamours--minor illusory overlays that can make steamed rice look like maggots, blood taste like wine or noodles look like earthworms. Et cetera. David's a real speed demon, and prefers to hunt and fight on the wing--figuratively speaking.

He can't stand sunlight or holy items, but most of his classic vampire vulnerabilities and traits (garlic, not having a reflection) disappear if he is inside a building he has been invited into. A wooden (that's WOODEN) shaft through the heart will kill him. During the day, his strength is barely that of a normal human.

Most of the time, he looks like a pale but healthy young man in a silver blond, spiked mullet and dark biker-style clothes, usually with a long coat. His personal hygiene's improved since he stopped living in a wrecked hotel with no running water, and he still smokes (various things), in part to cover his lack of a normal human scent. At times, especially when he's using a lot of power, he will seem wreathed in a pale radiance, like moonlight.

(No. He does not sparkle.)

When feeding, sufficiently injured or enraged, all color leaves his skin, and his face becomes angular and sunken, with wild yellow-red eyes and batlike fangs.

Weirdly enough, his toes have become prehensile, allowing him to hang upside down to sleep like a bat does.

David is a self-interested bastard, though he can be friendly enough if he decides he likes you. He hates authority figures, dislikes backing down if challenged, and has an overdeveloped sense of vengeance. Most of all, he is murderously protective of his freedom and autonomy, of himself, and of anyone he claims as his own.