It all happened so quickly, but every moment burned its way into his mind. He heard the shot go off. A moment later, the hail of buckshot came rocketing out of the vampony's head, a mere inches from his face. Then came the blood. You don't quite realize just how much of it is in a pony's head until it explodes in front of your eyeballs. A red hail of brains, bits of bone, and black vampony blood peppered the little stallion's face and forelegs. And then it just stopped. The body of the older pegasus stallion fell onto him as so much dead weight, and finally lay still.
He lifted a foreleg, not to push it off, but to get a better look at the impossible reality in front of him. His hoof slowly, trembling, etched a path through the blood, poking at a bit of brain, convincing himself this was all really happening, and not just some sick dream. Somepony floated a long, thick wooden stake into view; it took him a moment to realize that was his magic. It hovered closer, until it was resting on his forehooves. He stared dumbly at the blood-splattered tool, dots slowly connecting in his raging mind. "I...I had more stakes," he said, quietly and with an eerie calm in his voice. "I didn't...didn't need help. He didn't do anythin' wrong, he didn't....didn't have...didn't have to....to..." Daniel's weak mental reinforcements snapped like a twig. His whole body started to tremble as silent tears poured down his face. He made no move to get up, nor tried to move the body; he simply laid back and wept bitterly, holding onto the body of the dead townspony.
(tldr: Sandy is lying under the body of the dead vampony, making no effort to pick himself up. He's in bad shape, mentally/emotionally.)