Some random thing I wrote:
The faint sound of the front door closing can be heard echoing through the halls of the mansion.
Meanwhile, with Vincent, he was walking outside. He had an umbrella, of course. Not because it was hot or raining, which it was neither, but because the sun hadn't fully set yet.
He was walking around the streets, lined with office buildings and little shops and such. He spotted a few hookers out on the street, all looking used and worn out for the rest of their lives. Their makeup smeared, their skimpy outfits looking more uncomfortable than anything.
He winced at the sight. He wasn't attracted to women in the slightest, but blood is blood, and he hadn't gotten any in a while.
He approached one. He offered her warmth and comfortable clothes and even some food if she'd come to his mansion, knowing she'd be oblivious to his true intentions, which were, of course, none of those things; he was out for blood.