Mira gazed into the decorative mirror, applying a dark, deep red to her lips. She pulled away with a smack of her lips, satisfied but unsmiling with the woman in the mirror. She fixed her dark hair until there wasn't a strand out of place. Then she smiled, turning to leave the master bedroom of the large New York estate. As she did, the clock chimed six times and she could see that the sun began to disappear behind New York's buildings. She swept into the kitchen, her skirt billowing about as she turned to open the freezer: there was frozen foods and even ice cream, though when she pushed the drawer back into the box, blood bags were revealed. She picked one out and began preparing a simple breakfast: warm blood in a mug (with a hint of chocolate).

The home was an older one just on the outskirts of the city. Although Mira kept it well--typically with human labor--it still looked like a house out of a scary movie. The kind of house the white family would buy when looking for a new start despite the warnings from the locals. However, to the local dead, Mira believed it was always a good place for a new start. Annoying-so, like a Church that kept its doors open in case a nonbeliever ever wanted to give the Lord a shot. Needless to say, the front door was left unlocked; she didn't fear humans and on the rare occasion another vampire was unwelcome, a lock wouldn't matter.