IT WAS AS EASY to get out of the police station as it was getting in. If anyone even looked at them it was brief, their eyes never truly registering her face. She was only a shadow of a human, as she had been her whole life. A complete lack of presence, she thought as she walked out of the door, is that what she had? Now all purpose in her life was lost, she wanted to ruin everything, set the whole world on fire just to feel something again. It unsettled her how much she sounded like the man she had escaped.

"Am I that terrible?" she asked Dante," was wanting love too much?"

He walked by her side, glancing at her briefly before he shook his head.

"I don't know," he said," I've solely wanted for anger my whole life. It was the only way to make me remember the guilt."

"For your sister dying?" she said," you know that wasn't your fault, right? You're not responsible for someone else's life. Who made you believe you do?"

"I see you still have that habit of wanting to fix everyone," he smiled," even now I'm dead."

She blinked and he was gone, but when she closed her eyes again, he stood right there. Bizarrely it made her feel somewhat at peace, the lack of his beating heart. No one ever left her when they stopped living. At least this way, she would never be lonely.

"Do you miss me, Helene?" Dante asked, his footsteps inaudible to anyone but her," or is it human warmth that you crave, no matter what form it comes in?"

"I wonder," she said," to be honest, I don't feel anything at all anymore. I've grown so numb of the pain that I wouldn't even care anymore if it consumes me." She kept walking, even though she didn't know where to. "I'm weary of living. I was never that suited for it to begin with."

"Is anyone?" Dante said.

"They all seem like they are," Helene answered," in the end most of them keeps functioning, don't they? None of them spiral downwards this much like I have done. Though it may be an illusion, being alone in my pain becomes realer as I stand here, with no one by my side."

"Do you think you should've stayed with Nathan?"

"I don't think I should've," she said," but I wanted to. That's exactly why I'm here, because I knew I couldn't trust myself anymore. All my degrees and the only thing I've learned is that, it seems."

"And how to converse with shadows," Dante smiled at her," I'm glad for it, now."

"Are you alright?"

She looked up at the man in front of her, surprised by the fact someone had spoken to her. Age had ran it's fingertips over his face, kissing his hair gray and curving his back. Still, his eyes had a bright light shining through the brown, so keen it reminded her of the cleverness she had been cursed with. It was the concern in the man's eyes which made her heart ache, though she didn't know why.

Helene looked around, to check if it was really her the man had asked the question to. When she turned to do so, the stranger repeated the question, voice so earnest that for some reason, it made her want to cry.

"Where are you looking at?" the man asked," do you need any help?"

"Why are you stopping, Helene?" Dante said," you need to keep going. He's going to find you."

"I don't know," she said, unsure which of the two she was replying to.

The man's face remained gentle as he looked at her, even though Helene was sure she looked positively insane. Her skin was pale, her eyes bloodshot, nails bitten to the edge. There was nothing about her which made people want to come near, as if they were scared they'd catch the insanity simply by proximity to her. When she had caught her reflection in the windows, she had eerily reminded herself of her mother.

At least an obsession for beauty had kept her mother alive, but even that Helene didn't have. What was it that forced her heart to beat then?

"So many questions, Helene," Dante said as he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, fingers grazing past her temple," you think too much about things. I told you that when I was breathing and I'm telling you now. All that weight you're holding onto is only drowning you. The world wasn't kind to you when you were perfect and it isn't now. There's no need for it to be for you to keep living."

"I don't think I'm strong enough for any of this," she whispered," isn't that reason enough to let go?"

Dante didn't look at her like she was weak and she couldn't help but find it ironic how much that touched her, considering he was a figment of her imagination.

"I wasn't strong enough for any of this either," he said," I never found my purpose, but that doesn't mean the only other option is giving up altogether. I'm not going to give you some idealistic speech about how much life is worth living, because I know that would be a lie." He breathed out, taking a step backwards. "Still, if you die now, you'll never find out for yourself. If you choose not to even attempt to see it through, you'll never know what you can become. Isn't that more terrible than anything, the boundaries of death?"

"The peace of death, you mean," she said.

"Look at all the ghosts surrounding you, Helene," Dante said, almost sadly," remember the way Zion's face contorted when you cut through his flesh, the way that man in your living room cried before Nathan shot the bullet through him. None of them have found peace, haven't they? Most of them are gone forever, the others -"

He reached out towards her, but stopped right before he could touch her hand. Even when knowing she was fabricating it all, she couldn't help but want to protect herself from the truth, it seemed. When he touched her and his hand went straight through, she would mourn him again. Like this at least, he was alive, even if it was just as a figment of her imagination.

"The others haunt me," she finished his sentence," or I haunt them. Have I cursed you all to live in my dreams?"

"Come on," the man said," we can sit down somewhere. It looks like you're tired of running."

As she looked at the stranger, she could feel a sense of calm dawn over her heart. The man was right. She hadn't been frightened of the people haunting her in a while now. It was no wonder that her parents had stopped screaming at her all the time, because when she had stopped running, they had given up on chasing. She was done with being who the world expected her to be. When she looked in the window again, this time she only saw herself.

The man smiled at her, offering her a hand. Before she could think further about it, she took it, compelled to do so for a reason she couldn't quite understand.

"See," he said," you're finally accepting my help."

"Helene," Dante called out from behind her," are you leaving?"

"I am," she said, but her feet were frozen to the floor.

"Are you really ready to let go of her?" Dante said," the you who knew me, I mean. The kind and gentle you, the one you've been holding on to for so long."

"I've been grieving her for a long time now," Helene replied softly," but she'll be in good hands with you. It's time to bury the ghosts of me."

Before she could leave he suddenly grabbed her free hand, icy cold fingers running across her palm. She turned back to look at him, gaze snapping towards the scar he was tracing, the one she had gotten when she had cut herself on glass. It had healed terribly, like most of her wounds. Once, it had reminded her so much of the lack of control in her life that she couldn't bear looking at the jagged scar tissue. Now, she couldn't help but think how much smaller it was than she had thought, her fingers closing around it, Dante's intertwined with hers.

"I was wrong," he said," you outlasted all of them, in that prison."

"It hasn't done me much good," she replied.

"No, that it hasn't," he whispered," but I'll mourn you, as you still do with me. I'll mourn the girl you could've been if you had been happy. I think I'll miss her forever."

She blinked and he was gone, but the warmth of the man beside her was still pulling her along. As she walked on, she didn't look back a single moment. The man beside her kept humming a lullaby, changing with every step they took down the road. With each blink she could see the shadows tangle raven locks in his hair instead of gray, see the way the wind smoothed his skin out, stormclouds gathering in his eyes. When she looked at him again, she could hear the thunder.

"See," Nathan smiled," you can't run when I am every single one of your thoughts, Helene. I knew you'd come back to me, sooner or later."

"I know," she said," it seems the only way I can run now is towards you, my love."

"Even if I'm not real?" Nathan grinned.

She glanced at him, but he was gone. No one was walking by her side and yet she spoke, words so quiet the wind washed them away.

"Especially because you're not real."