He was acting different, obsessed. Kat didn't know what was wrong. He would come to her at any time of the day and ask for her wiccan books and tools. She thought he was probably just going to put them in a secure place, she always used them and maybe he just wanted her to stop and relax, away from her books. Not exactly anything extremely strange or different.

So, of course, she never denied him. After all, there seemed to be a spark between the two. She never denied his small requests.

While she slept, Dante was usually in their ruined and torn living room, fidgeting with his weapon's and pulling all nighters with her books.

She'd never admit it but yes, she was glad that the young hunter took interest in her books and seemed to actually care about the information in them. It was a bit strange at first. Dante never took interest before yet she saw it with her own two eyes. Every night she would witness as he dove into the words in an almost hypnotic state.

It all seemed like an innocent game until she tried to pry a book away from his eye's and he instantly pulled the book away from her hands and back into his. Not a trace of emotion on his face. He seemed to be more machine than he was man at that point.

Dante was changing. For better or for worse, Kat wasn't sure.

He told her many times that he would keep her safe and once he even told her he would die protecting his loved ones.

He'd die protecting her.

His eye's were bloodshot, he hadn't been sleeping or eating very well. His only companions were a bottle of booze, his weapon's and her books. She stayed away from him most of the time. She had grown afraid. He'd almost slammed her into the wall when she tried making him sleep, her small figure being crushed by his strength.

She wanted to leave.

Kat had planned on leaving during the night, on one of the rare nights while Dante was asleep. She packed a bag and was ready to go. Slowly, she walked into the living room of their small apartment, the stench of alcohol filled her nostrils, she had gotten to the door when she heard the shuffling of a coat.

"Where are you going?", Dante asked, pulling off his coat as he made himself more comfortable to sleep. Noticing the faint outline of a bag hidden behind her, and seeing Kat's hand far too close to the doorknob, he stood up and walked toward her.

She held onto the strap of her bag tighter, her knuckles turned white from the force and her nails dug into her flesh. "D-Dante...", her voice barely audible, "I-I'm going out for a walk," she lied.

"Why do you even try?"Dante shook his head and a slight smile formed on his face but disappeared just as quickly, "I know what your doing, Kat."

She was afraid of him. Kat didn't want to leave. She knew it would tear him to pieces and it was a risk going out on her own. But she had no other choice. She had to leave for her own well being.

"Dante-"

"Kat, please just stay," he pleaded. He walked toward her until she was now flat against the wall, his body crushing her small form. "Don't be scared," he whispered, choking back a sob, "I'm fine."

The young woman looked up at him with a puzzled look. Kat bit her lip and shook her head. "You're not fine," she was able to say. "You've changed."

"I've only changed for the better. Please just trust me," he tugged lightly on her sweater.

She believed him. Of course she would. Always. So she stayed, she couldn't leave him, not like this. But all the cells in her body were begging her to leave, to try again another night. Yet she refused to listen.

Kat retired into her bedroom for the night. She laid in bed for hour's just thinking about what she was going to do. Dante was in the living room cleaning his pistol's and reading through her books. Again. He wouldn't try to sleep again at all. She knew him well. He wouldn't risk having her slip out while he lay asleep.

The light drizzle of rain outside kept her company, Kat noticed the light raindrops that splashed against her window. If only she felt the same sense of calm from such weather as she did once before. Kat heard a knock come from her door and a voice not soon after.

"Kat, I'm gonna head on out. Don't wait up for me," his deep voice rang through her eardrums. There was no feeling, no emotion in his words.

He'd only spoken to her because of their earlier problem. The only reason why Dante even bothered in telling her he was leaving was because he wanted Kat to know, to believe she was in control. To let her know that he was okay and nothing was going on. A disguise which he thought he played very well. But Kat knew better.

She let him leave and turned her head toward the window once more, her hair slightly sprawled against the pillow. She brought the blanket up higher to her chest and curled up, keeping her warmth with her as the cold dawn air made it's way into the apartment.

Later that morning, Kat woke up to a much more plush bed and a softer blanket over her body. She sat up slowly, her head spinning a bit as she yawned away the sleep. What a terrible way to have spent the night. Yet what a terrible thing to have to face this morning. She dreaded having to confront Dante.

But then again, she didn't think she'd have to after all.

"W-What?" she looked around the room. This was not her room, it wasn't the crummy apartment she had been sleeping in last few nights. It was her old bedroom in her old home in which she shared with her foster father.

"Oh, no," Kat shivered, "I-It can't be."

But it was. Drawings and sketches covered the wall's that were a dark shade of green underneath. Her old drawings.

Looking around, Kat noticed all her old furniture, her desk and wardrobe, each on a different side of the room. A few notebooks and pencils scattered loosely across her desk having shown recent use. Her door, a white masterpiece with different designs carved and painted into the wood. It would have been a nice sight to see if not for all the locks and chains she was forced to put on it. Next to her desk was her short bookshelf with only a few books, a faded photograph and small antiques and trinkets she had been able to collect through the years.

Her only place of sanctuary while in the grasp of her foster father.

Kat was back in the darkness, she was living in her nightmare once more and had nowhere to go. She's back in the prison she'd once called her home and no way out.