As her senses continued to spiral out of control, Cora spun this way and that way in circles, gawking at her surroundings. She felt as though she was floating and sinking at the same time. Every surface in the hallway began to billow in and out like sails on a boat. The long stretch of solid walls and doors shimmered before her like a mirage. Complete darkness loomed in a distance. It was the same black void that Cora had seen in the room full of dolls and bears, and, instead of sending shivers down her spine, she felt strangely drawn to it—as though it belonged to her somehow?

Her voice was barely a whisper as she moaned, "Oh, I must be going mad! What have you done to me? And how can you possibly be alive after swallowing a needle and thread whole?"

The boy whimpered pitifully, "I will have you know that I have been gravely injured by the witchy ones' powers!"

Cora felt he was being a bit dramatic, but she could not help noticing that he did indeed appear slightly paler than before. Weaker as well.

"Instead of harping at me like a she-demon, gatekeeper," he complained grumpily, "you should be thanking me! I helped you destroy the powerful black charm that was holding your abilities at bay. Now you will finally be able to see this place for what it is!"

Cora remained skeptical. "And what is this place supposed to be, truly? Are you talking about the In Between?"

"Do not call it by such a pretentious name. This is merely a gate—one of many, might I add—used by your kind to ferry souls of the living to their next destination. The witchy ones have been misusing it for their own selfish ends. I have come to help you put an end to their madness."

"I wish you would not speak of my aunts in such a horrid tone. And what do you mean by 'my kind?' Explain yourself, please," Cora demanded suspiciously.

Honestly, she no longer knew what to believe anymore. Cora had started the day thinking that she was a normal human girl. Then, Aunt Mathilde and Aunt Amelia told her that she was a weaver. Now, this strange boy wouldn't stop calling her a gatekeeper.

The boy frowned as though deep in thought. "I suppose... oh, how do I explain this to a simpleton like you? I suppose... you are what mortals might call a grim reaper. Your purpose is to seek out the dying, extract the soul from the corpse, and escort them to wherever they are meant to go."

Cora laughed. "You must be joking."

"I am not." The boy sniffed haughtily. "I have never spoken truer words."

Cora resisted the urge to snort. That would be unladylike. "Tell me, then, how do you know all of this? Are you a gatekeeper, too?"

The boy released a bark of delight. "Ha! You would like to think so, wouldn't you? But I am not. I..." the boy paused for effect, "am a hellhound. My name is Cerberus. I suppose you could say that we are in a similar line of work, but I get to devour the most wicked and evil of souls and drag them down to the fiery bowels of hell. It is far more enjoyable than your dull and tedious undertaking."

Cora stared back at him blankly. Then, realization dawned on her. "It is you! You were that troublesome little pup who would not stop barking in the room earlier!"

"I was trying to warn you and tell you to stop waving the black charms around like a fool," Cerberus explained, "but you could not seem to understand me, so I was forced to change into another form for your sake. If anyone is troublesome, then it is most definitely you!"

"How... kind of you," Cora mouthed irritably. "But I am still finding it difficult to believe you. Everything you are telling me sounds a bit mad."

"Then come with me, gatekeeper," Cerberus said. He held out his hand to her. "And I will show you what you are truly capable of..."