Prologue

Diana leaned back in her office's armchair, discreetly observing the handsome youth, Charlie, sitting opposite her on the sofa.

Since the start of today's session, she could feel something was not quite right.

For three years now she had served as his 'personal therapist', appointed by the NHS after the youth literally killed himself. Luckily, he was revived by the paramedics and made a full recovery, physically.

It was her job, to ensure he recovered mentally after the other doctors had done their job.

As one of her first-ever patients since becoming a fully licensed psychiatrist at this hospital, reluctantly she had to admit she had grown attached to the charismatic youth. It was this attachment her senior colleague, Dr. Evrett, had repeatedly warned her about lately.

Dr. Evrett wanted to take over Charlie's case, especially since Dianna had to admit she was beginning to feel out of her league with his current changes.

Sure Charlie seemed fine to most, but from their recent conversations, the younger man was clearly becoming unstable. However, diagnosing him beyond clinical depression, anxiety, and paranoid traits was beginning to feel beyond her capabilities.

This really had to be their last session.

Maybe she really had rushed through getting her doctorate a little fast, since she skipped a few years ahead of her peers. Her youth was always hung a heavy target on her back, not to mention her gender in a male-dominated field, often leading others to question her abilities.

As much as she wished every patient under her care made a full recovery, Charlie was not the only patient she couldn't 'mend'. He was, however, the patient who had spent the longest under her care.

It felt as if the two were in a bitter headlock with one another, unwilling to concede first.

"Doctor Di," his enigmatic voice usually put most people at ease, but for Diana, it took all her resolve to fight off the eerie goosebumps. It wasn't just the patient in the room causing them either.

Three void-like figures would linger each and every time, yet just like Charlie, Dianna couldn't make heads or tails of them. They were unlike any 'being' she had encountered in her almost thirty years of life.

"Charlie," she twisted her face slightly before halting it and trying to force the 'professional smile' to speak gently.

"How many times do I have to ask you not to call me that," she shook her head, appearing frustrated at the nickname he and he alone allocated to her.

The way his heavy British accent pronounced it, it sounded too much like Doctor Die. Which in turn was too close to that irritating nickname that followed her throughout her entire time studying, Doctor Death.

"You don't even have to call me Doctor, there's only a few years between us, you can simply call me Dianna, like usual," she pinched the pen in between her fingers, trying to prevent herself from nervously tapping it onto the notepad.

One of the void-like figures had stepped closer, its blank face turned to stare at her.

"Doctor Di," his sunny face lit up, resting in his hands as his elbows dug into his knees. For a moment, Dianna felt like the glare he gave her was no different than the void-like being behind him. "Would you say we were friends by now?"

"Friends?" Dianna's eyes slowly blinked, trying to block out the three figures eavesdropping like usual, "Although I am first and foremost your doctor, I most certainly like to think of you as a friend, sure."

"Since we're friends Doctor Di, I might as well let you in on a little secret," he sighed, leaning slightly forward, perched off the edge of the old, uncomfortable-looking sofa.

He might be some young, rich kid, but for some reason, he refused private care and went through the NHS. Their department wasn't exactly well funded despite the hospital being one of the best in London.

Dianna specifically worked in the emergency department, helping diffuse mentally unstable patients who came in or acted out in the hospital, alongside a few other colleagues.

Tonight only she was covering A&E and this frustrating 'friend' of hers had crashed his car in an 'attempt of suicide'.

Only Dianna was convinced it was simply a stunt to get back into her office tonight, after telling him earlier in the week she was hoping to introduce him to Dr. Evrett.

Why did Dr. Everett have to call in sick tonight?

"If you feel comfortable, you know I am always here to listen when you need me to," Dianna smiled, trying to hide the exhaustion in her eyes.

It was almost dawn, almost time for her freedom to enjoy sleeping for the first time in her newly-bought apartment. Her first ever actual home.

Lazily, he tilted his head to look at her, "I was attacked tonight, but the police simply wouldn't believe me," he lamented.

"That's terrible, did you see your attacker?" Dianna frowned, genuinely concerned.

She truly believed him, it wasn't his 'style' to go out like that. Even before, he had written a lengthy suicide note and overdosed on the narcotics and alcohol stolen from his parents over a period of time.

Going off the personality he had ever since, she was certain if he did go, it would be thoroughly premeditated in the cleanest, quickest way possible without endangering anybody else.

Certainly not in a messy, clumsy car crash.

His next words caused her to almost stab the pen through the flimsy paper.

"I've been living here too long Doctor Di," he suddenly raised his arms stretching his back.

When Diana glanced back at him, she noted all three figures stood in a row behind him on the sofa.

"If you've been here too long, then what about me Charlie?" Dianna nervously chuckled, "I mean, I'll be thirty on my next birthday. Have I been here too long?"

"Yes," his hands rested innocently on his lap, empty, yet everything inside of her was screaming he was dangerous and that she needed to flee from this room, "you have."

Chuckling to hide her nerves, she pretended to rub her waist, knocking the emergency button on the pager that hung to her pants belt.

Though Dr. Everett was on sick leave, there was another middle-aged man running the night shift in the emergency psych ward.

"I haven't even married and had kids yet," Dianna tried to change the topic, ignoring the painful ache in her chest as she brought up a difficult subject for her. "Never mind me, what about you? Weren't you working things out with a young girl called Sasha?"

"She's dead," Charlie shrugged, his voice as lazy and languid as his body language, "her soul is already looong gone from this planet."

"She died?" Dianna was perplexed, Sasha was perfectly alive when he talked about her five days ago. Was this why he was driving recklessly and acting strange? She'd need to chase it up with her friend over in the police department later.

"Charlie, that's got to be rough. I really admire you for having the strength to come here and talk to me after something like that," Dianna tried to encourage him, knowing just how bloody difficult it had been to get him to open up to her initially three years ago.

"It's not that bad," he seemed amused at my pitiful attempts of comfort, "she'd served her purpose and successfully lured that bastard out. And boy was I surprised when I saw his face, in fact, you would have been too…"

Sensing Dianna's nerves, he leaned back languidly on the sofa, his head resting eerily close to the void fingers hand resting on the back of it, "I wanted more time to talk," he suddenly interjected aggrievedly, "why did you press the button so soon? Didn't you say we were friends?"

The cheap bic pen finally snapped in her tight grip.

"Charlie, I'm feeling a little uncomfortable with your words right now."

He nodded as if they were talking about somebody completely irrelevant to him, "yes, I'm uncomfortable with them too. I'm very uncomfortable with what I have to do, but…"

Jumping up, he strode over the small distance between the sofa and Dianna's armchair, placing his hands on either arm caging her in.

This was not what scared her. What scared her were the three void-like figures following him from behind, simply walking through the sofa like it was a mirage.

"C-Charlie?" Her hand instinctively pressed on the button again, uncaring if he saw or not.

Charlie grabbed the pager and tossed it to the side, not before letting Dianna see the completely blank screen. It had been fully charged only hours before, and now its battery was completely flat.

If only she had sat at her desk, then she could have grabbed the landline.

Unable to take it any longer, she blurted out to the entities behind him, "You need to leave my office, now."

"Leave?" Charlie acted offended, but his eyes glanced over his shoulder. "I think you're scaring her," he spoke to nobody in particular, alarming Dianna.

Was he like her? Able to see the dead also? Or was he finally showing signs of the schizophrenia Dr. Evrett advised her to diagnose him with?

"Don't be scared Doctor Di, it's all going to be okay," he spoke with a lull, his left hand gripping her forearm sternly.

Oddly, a sensation of warmth and calm invaded her body, rendering her more relaxed than the times she smoked a joint in high school.

"What did you-" Her mouth became useless, unable to finish her last sentence as he raised a gun that he had tucked into the back of his jeans to her temple.

Despite the cold metal moving her sandy blonde hair aside, Dianna literally could not feel scared, even though she was supposed to. She felt certain he had used something to dose her.

Instead of trying to resist, she couldn't help but close her eyes and envision the face that haunted her dreams at night, wondering silently, "If I submit, would I finally see his face again?"

"Anyway, thanks for all your care in this shitty life Doctor Di, in return, I'm going to get you out of a sticky situation and leave you with a gift." He paused, sighing heavily, "but you don't need to thank me after… I won't remember it," he laughed bitterly, then pulled the trigger.

As life flooded from her body, he glanced at the three shadows, then at the rattling door they prevented from being opened.

"Looks like you got your wish, you assholes," he sat dejectedly on the small coffee table and raised the gun to his own head, "well mostly, since I'll be taking Charlie with me..."

He laughed, taking joy in their confusion before pulling the trigger.