From Ch. 9 of THE LIMINAL MAN:
“Mister?” Donovan walked across the street with heavy footfalls. There was no way this guy couldn’t hear him. His bare feet slapped against the ground. “Are—are you dead, too?”
The bald man cocked his head. Donovan froze in place. His heart stopped for that instant of time. The world, and its flashing sequence of color, also stopped, and a thousand nightmares clawed their way out of the recesses of his mind.
Aleister Dullington turned and smiled back at Donovan with a grin full of jagged teeth. His bulbous, black eyes jutted from their sockets and glistened with delight.
“No, Mr. Candle, I am most assuredly not dead, and neither are you.” Dullington swept his hand through the air. The sleeve of his robe billowed with his movement, and the world flashed with color. “Welcome to the spaces in between.”
There’s something strangely satisfying, yet terrifying, about things finally coming together after more than a year of planning.