Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

“Saw one, did you?”
He whirled around. Nelson, sitting in his chair in front of the fireplace.
The fire was mostly embers now, the remaining charred log glowing red and
orange. Apollo lay in front of the chair on his back, his legs kicking in the air.
He snorted as he fell to his side, jaws opening in a yawn before he closed his
eyes.
Wallace shook his head. “I … don’t know what I saw.”
Nelson grunted as he rose from the chair, using the cane to prop himself
up. Wallace didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed before, but Nelson’s slippers
were little felt rabbits, the ears floppy and frayed. He glanced back out the
window. Mei paced, the road in front of the tea shop dark and empty.
Nelson smacked his lips as he shuffled over to him. He looked Wallace up
and down before peering out the window. “Still intact, I see. You should
thank your lucky stars.”
Wallace wasn’t sure how intact he was. It was as if his mind had blown
away on the wind with the other pieces of him. He couldn’t focus, and he felt
cold. “What happened to me? The … man. Cameron.”
Nelson sighed. “Poor soul. Figured he was still lurking out there.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s dead,” Nelson said. “A couple of years, or thereabouts. Time …
slips a little in here. Sometimes it crawls to a halt, and then it skips and
jumps. It’s part of living with a ferryman. Look, Mr. Price, you need to—”
“Wallace.”
Nelson blinked owlishly. Then, “Wallace, you need to keep your focus on
yourself. Cameron doesn’t concern you. There’s nothing you can do for him.
How far did you get before it happened to you?”
Wallace considered pretending he had no idea what Nelson was talking
about. Instead, he said, “The gas station.”
Nelson whistled lowly. “Farther than I expected, I’ll give you that.” He
hesitated. “That world is for the living. It no longer belongs to those of us
who’ve passed. And those who try to make it, lose themselves. Call it
insanity, call it another form of death. Regardless, the moment you walk out
these doors, it begins to pull at you. And the longer you stay out there, the
worse it gets.”
Horrified, Wallace said, “I was out there. For days. Mei didn’t show up
until my funeral.”