Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

The Manager dropped the hook, and as it hit the floor, it and the cable turned
to dust. “There,” he said. “That’s better.” He turned and headed farther into
the house.
Wallace looked down at his own cable, still connecting him to Hugo. The
cable flashed weakly, the hook shivering in his chest. He was about to touch
it, to allow himself the reminder it was there, it was real, when Alan rose a
few inches off the floor, floating though still frozen. The boy looked back at
Wallace from the entry to the hallway. “Coming, Wallace?”
“If I say no?”
The boy shrugged. “Then you do. But I wish you wouldn’t.”
Wallace stumbled back when Alan began to rise toward the ceiling.
“Where are you taking him?”
“Home,” the boy said simply. He disappeared down the hallway. Wallace
looked at Alan in time to see his feet disappear through the ceiling,
concentric circles undulating outward.
He did the only thing he could.
He followed the Manager.
He knew where they were going, and though he’d never been more
frightened in his life, he still climbed the stairs, each step harder than the last.
He passed by the second floor. The third. All the windows were black, as
if all light had vanished from the world.
He stopped near the fourth floor landing, peering through the railing. The
Manager stood below the door. Alan floated up through the floor, stopping
next to him, suspended in air.
“I’m not going to force you through the door,” the boy said mildly. “If
that’s what you’re thinking.”
“And Alan?” Wallace asked, climbing the last few stairs.
“Alan’s a different case. I’ll do what I must for him.”
“Why?”
The boy laughed. “So many questions. Why, why, why. You’re funny,
Wallace. It’s because he’s becoming dangerous. Obviously.”
“You’re going to make him go through the door.”
The boy looked back at him over his shoulder. “Yes.”
“How is that fair?”
The boy looked confused. “Death? How is it not? You’re born, yes. You
live and breathe and dance and ache, but you die. Everyone dies. Everything