Irine was bored, and she needed some new prey. Her most recent set of 'toys' had all died out, whether it been from their poor little hearts giving out and refusing to come back no matter how much she pressed, shocked, and injected them or from her 'toys' killing themselves to escape her games. It didn't matter; they were gone, and there was no point in crying over spilt milk. She would have to go and get some new ones, which was always so much fun.