The Liminal Space

I've always been drawn toward emptiness; toward the dark and strange. So when it was offered that I might become a drifter, I jumped at the chance. Nothing sounded better than long aimless hours spent in strange spaces, wandering now-empty halls.

But that was then, and now, standing in yet another hallway, I feel my heart sink to my stomach.

I reassure myself nothing's there, breathing and moving forward through the long curving space, but every single footstep taps loudly against the floor, and each heartbeat seems to echo in my ears.

Once I was idealistic about all this, but now I simply want to leave.

Fidgeting with my hood, I glance back down the hallway, carefully closing each door as I pass, testing to see that they're all locked.

Reaching for the next doorknob I'm almost knocked over when Gabriel shoots out, jeering at my shocked face.

"Hey there!"

I frown, disgruntled. "Hi."

"You're locking doors! Care for some help?"

Sighing, I shrug and gesture toward the doors on the opposite side of the hallway. "Go ahead"

He nods and darts off, fliting back momentarily to ask how I'm doing, but I'm at a loss for words. He smirks and leans in conspiratorily, "You did hear about The Grey, right?" I squint, and his eyes widen. "You didn't! Oh Ashy my dear, you simply must hear." He spins, dashing off to lock yet another door, and I try to ignore him.

"Gabriel?" I turn to look back, stepping away from the empty hallway I'm near, wishing I could shut a door on this one, close out the emptiness, the way it seems to stretch on a touch too far.

"Gabe?"

But he's gone.

I remind myself it's just Gabriel; he's constantly here and there, so I continue. By next week I've forgotten all about the incident. All the days feel the same anyway.

My next drift comes in the form of an empty train station, which normally wouldn't be anything odd, in fact I rather like them, they're often quite quaint, but today it just looks wrong.

I keep getting that creeping feeling that someone's watching me, but every time I look no one is there.

That's when the floor begins to seep away from me. Grimacing, I cringe away from the change, remembering that Gabriel never finished his story. I need to know what he was talking about.

I slide my face into my hand, pressing for recall, but no one is there. Frustrated I bring my gaze back up only to be met with two large grey eyes that seem to engulf me. Abruptly they vanish. Frozen in place, I stare after the missing apparition before giving a half-hearted chuckle; "Very funny, Gabriel!" I yell.

There's no response.

Slowly backing away from the long benches, I keep going, testing locks, pulling missing gloves from beneath seats, and scoffing at the trash left behind. But I can't stop looking over my shoulder now.

The feeling of emptiness has always been my home, my safe space, my little piece of quiet in the chaos. But now, the silence is swallowing me whole, amplifying the chaos tucked in my soul.

I cringe away, eyes darting every which way. It feels like my life is slowly leeching away through my heels.

"Gabe!" I yell one last time before breaking into a run, "I swear if you can hear me, you little rascal."

That's when the floor lurches and I'm tugged back to the hub. Instantly I can see people rush toward me, "We got her!" someone says, "Are you alright?" blurts another. Still more surround me, bombarding me with questions and concerns.

"Yes, I'm alright. What happened? I tried to get recalled and it didn't work!"

Worried glances are exchanged, and several people nod, "you've had a close encounter."

"A what?"

"A close encounter. Have you heard of The Grey?"

My face blanks. "Where's Gabe. Is he okay?"

"What?"

"He started to tell me, but he never finished. He disappeared. Where's Gabe!"

"When did you see him."

I shrug, and the air, if possible, grows even tenser. "I'm sorry I... it's hard to keep track of time while drifting! About a week ago? Maybe two?"

"Would he visit you often?"

"I, no?"

"Hmm." The man who's taken over the questioning turns and walks away. He looks more impressive for some reason, maybe higher ranked; what exactly is he doing here?

Actually, what are any of us doing here? Normally the hub only has a small handful of drifters; we're not exactly known for gathering in groups.

Standing swiftly, I stalk over to Yaryl, "What exactly is going on here."

His lips purse as he answers me hesitantly, "We're not exactly sure."

The second question twists around my lips before I can stop it, "Is Gabriel okay?"

There's silence, and Yaryl nods, "I'm sure he's alright." But that's not consoling. I thought this job was safe.