Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

people like him.” He swallowed thickly. “Like me…” He shook his head. “I
need a moment, okay?”
He left them behind, thoughts swirling in a massive storm.
He walked up and down the rows of the garden, letting his fingers pass
gently over the tops of the plants, careful to avoid the delicate leaves. He
stared beyond, into the forest. He wondered how far he could get before his
skin began to flake. What would it feel like to give in? To let himself drift
away? It should have scared him more than it did. From what he’d seen, it
was empty and dark, a hollow husk of a life once lived.
And yet he still thought about it. Thought about finding a way to rip the
hook from his chest, and rising, rising, rising up through the clouds into the
stars. Or running, running until he could run no longer. It was fleeting, this,
because if he did just that, he could become lost, turning into the one thing
Hugo feared most. A Husk. What would that do to him, seeing Wallace deadeyed
and vacant? The guilt would consume him, and Wallace couldn’t do
that. Not now. Not ever.
Hugo was important. Not because he was a ferryman, but because he was
Hugo.
Wallace started to turn back toward the deck, another apology on the tip of
his tongue. He froze when he heard a sigh, a long, breathy sound like wind
through dead leaves. The shadows around him grew thicker as if sentient, the
stars fading until there was only black.
Movement, off to his right.
Wallace looked over, spine turning into a block of ice.
Cameron stood among the tea plants. Only a few feet away. Dressed as
he’d been before. Dirty pants. Scuffed sneakers. Shirtless, his skin sickly and
gray. Mouth open, tongue thick, teeth black.
Wallace didn’t have time to react, didn’t have time to make a sound.
Cameron rushed forward, hands outstretched like claws. He grabbed
Wallace’s arm, and everything that made Wallace who he was whited out as
fingers dug in, the skin leathery and cold.
Wallace whispered, “No, please, no,” as Mei screamed for Hugo.
Cameron leaned forward, face inches from Wallace’s, his eyes pools of
inky black. He bared his teeth, a low growl crawling from his throat.
The dark colors of the world at night began to bleed around Wallace,
melting like wax. He thought about pulling away, but it was a distant, almost