Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

Another voice came then, deep and warm, the words sounding as if they
had weight, and there was a mighty tug at that hook in Wallace’s chest. It
should have hurt. It didn’t.
It almost felt like relief.
“Grandad, are you making trouble again?”
Wallace turned his head toward the voice.
A man appeared through the double doors.
Wallace blinked slowly.
The man smiled quietly, his teeth shockingly bright. The front two were a
bit crooked and strangely charming. He was, perhaps, an inch or two shorter
than Wallace, with thin arms and legs. He wore jeans and an open-collared
shirt under an apron with the words CHARON’S CROSSING stitched across the
front. The front of the apron bulged slightly against the gentle swell of his
stomach. His skin was deep brown, his eyes almost hazel with shots of green
through them. His hair was similar to the old man’s, tight coils in a short
Afro, though his was black. He seemed young; not quite as young as Mei, but
surely younger than Wallace. The floorboards creaked with every step he
took.
He set down the tray he was carrying onto the counter, a teapot clanking
against the oversized teacups. It smelled like peppermint. He walked around
the counter. Wallace saw the dog—Apollo—weaving around and then
through the man’s legs. The man laughed at the dog. “I can see that. Curious,
right?”
The dog barked in agreement.
Wallace stared as the man approached. He didn’t know why he focused on
the man’s hands, fingers oddly delicate, palms paler than the backs, nails like
crescent moons. He rubbed his hands together before he crouched down near
Wallace, keeping some distance from him as if he thought Wallace was
skittish. It was only then Wallace noticed the cable attached to his chest
extended to the man, though there didn’t appear to be a hook. The cable
disappeared into his ribcage, right where his heart should be.
“Hello,” the man said. “Wallace, right? Wallace Price?”
Wallace nodded, unable to find his voice.
The man’s smile widened, and the hook in Wallace’s chest felt like it was
burning. “My name is Hugo Freeman. I am a ferryman. I’m sure you have