Under_The_Whispering_Door_by_TJ_Klune

“And there’s … what?”
Hugo doubled over, wheezing out grating laughter. “Oh. Oh my. You
should see the look on your face. It’s priceless!”
The skin under Wallace’s right eye twitched as he lowered his arms
slowly, putting his foot back onto the floor. “What?”
“You’re dead,” Hugo exclaimed. “You can’t be brought back to life.
That’s not how anything works. Honestly.” He elbowed Mei in the side. “You
see this? What a goof. I like him. It’ll be a shame to see him go. He’s fun.”
Mei glanced toward the double doors. “You’re going to get us in trouble,
Nelson.”
“Bah. Death doesn’t need to always be sad. We need to learn to laugh at
ourselves before we—”
“Nelson,” Wallace said slowly.
The man looked at him. “Yes?”
“She called you Nelson.”
“That’s because it’s my name.”
“Not Hugo.”
Nelson waved his hand. “Hugo is my grandson.” He narrowed his eyes.
“And you won’t tell him what we did if you know what’s good for you.”
Wallace gaped at him. “Are you … are you serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Nelson said as Mei choked. “Oops. Too soon?”
Wallace took a stuttering step toward the man—to do what, he didn’t
know. He couldn’t think, couldn’t form a single word. He tripped over his
own feet, falling forward toward Nelson, eyes wide, a sound like a door
creaking escaping his throat.
But he didn’t crash into Nelson, because Nelson disappeared, causing
Wallace to land roughly on the floor, facedown.
He raised his head in time to see Nelson blink back into existence a few
feet away, near the fireplace. He wiggled his fingers at Wallace.
Wallace rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. His chest
heaved (pesky thing, that, seeing as how his lungs weren’t exactly necessary
at this point), and his skin thrummed. “You’re dead.”
“As a doornail,” Nelson said. “It was a relief, really. This old body had
worn down, and try as I might, I couldn’t make it work like I wanted it to
anymore. Sometimes, death is a blessing, even if we don’t realize it right
away.”