The characters of Hortimer and Reverend Smallflower, as well as the Celestian Church are all borrowed from the wonderful stories of https://ask-de-writer.tumblr.com/ . Please, give him a follow and his wonderful stories a read. :)

Hortimer, head of the denounced Celestian Church was running for his life. He panted and grunted, losing stamina rapidly. He had lost his tall, impressive hat to reveal his balding mane. His voluminous robes flapped in the wind as his prodigious poundage flopped underneath. He bemoaned his own gluttony for a moment as he heard the flapping of leathery wings overhead.

Letting out a whinny of fright, he skidded to a halt, tumbling forwards and cracking his chin on the cobblestone road. He stared at the pair of glowing eyes In the gloom before him. Scrambling back up to his hooves, he fumbled for his holy symbol, using his magic to brandish it in front of him.

“BACK! BACK FOUL CREATURE OF THE NIGHTMARE!!” He stood his ground, confident that his faith in his own superiority would protect him.

“Give me that....” Silver Fang rolled his eyes, snatching the holy symbol out of the air with a hoof.

Hortimer gasped, “Y.. you can't do that! Celestia's light strike you down, you should be burning at its touch!”

The vampony actually looked a little shocked, “You mean you've been doing this so long now you really believe your own lies?” He wrinkled his nose as he studied the holy symbol.

“What lies?! This is holy scripture!” The old pony shouted, brandishing his holy book.

Silver Fang snatched that up as well, flipping though it. “This,” he said with a sneer, “is outhouse paper.”

Staring at the bat pony before him, Hortimer was equal parts terrified and deeply offended. “H.. how DARE you?”

Tossing the book back over his shoulder, the vampony sighed and studied the holy symbol once more. “You know, other than the fact that this idiotic unicorn horn is so central to it, this isn't a bad design. I've certainly seen uglier holy symbols over the centuries.” Touching the metal with his tongue, he blinked a bit and then nipped the edge of it with a fang. “Seriously?”

“Wh.. what? As if I care what a cursed creature of the vile Nightmare thinks...”

“You complete cheapskate!” Sliver Fang laughed, squeezing the symbol between his hooves and balling it up like a lump of play-clay from Cheerilee's elementary school! “Polished tin? Not even silver?” He rolled his eyes at the robed pony practically pissing himself in the street before him. “I am so disappointed in you. Celestia is worthy of gold, at least.”

Striding closer to Hortimer, Silver Fang grinned. He revealed the sharp, needle like teeth he intended on plunging into the priest's neck. “At least this way, you'll serve a true purpose, as a midnight snack.”

Suddenly, he froze. A tiny glimmer of light down the street caught his eye and he was unable to move a muscle, every joint in his body going suddenly stiff. His muzzle was mere inches from Hortimer's throat, the old pony whimpering in fear.

“Now now, Silver. You know better than that.” A soft, friendly voice came from beneath the wide-brimmed black hat the pony wore. His body was pale and slim and he lifted his head to reveal a kind, if weathered face smiling gently at the vampire.

Unable to stifle a hiss, the vampony was slowly forced back on trembling legs from the presented holy symbol of Reverend Smallflower. “Alright, alright, would you please just put that thing away?”

The reverend let go of his symbol, letting it drop against his chest where it hung about his neck. “You know the rules. You can find plenty of willing, er.. “donors” in town. No taking from the unwilling. I don't want to have to call in the hunters after you. Innocent creatures tend to get hurt by them.”

“Alright, alright,” he grumbled, kicking a hoof on the stones in the road. “It was fun while it lasted. If nothing else, maybe Hortimer here learned a little lesson about his misplaced faith.” Kicking off of the cobblestone street, he flitted up into the sky, vanishing behind the moon-covering clouds.

Bending down to pick up the book and the wadded up holy symbol, the reverend hoofed them back to Hortimer with a friendly smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Here you go. You need to be more careful being out so late. You never know who, or what you might run into old friend.”