The door isn’t anything special. The corner closest to the hinge has a dark stain, and the doorknob is a bit sticky. Aside from that, it’s painted a drab, dull blue, the same as this stretch of hallway. Gabriel might have missed it if he hadn’t seen the light shining out from underneath the door.

Inside, he is shocked by the heat. Four heaters are around the desk-bare classroom. The asbestos tile radiates heat back up to the ceiling, which absorbs it and is actually smoking in some sections. The choking atmosphere pushes hard against his windpipe. Careful not to show too much of his fist, he closes the door.

“You’re early,” A voice reprimands him, high and cold. Gabriel wasn’t paying enough attention to see where it came from, but he knows he doesn’t need to. All he needs to focus on is what is in the middle of the room.

A tall man is tied to a straight-backed chair, gagged but hands untied. He does not struggle, but stares resolutely ahead. He is a round man, balding, but with a handsome face. He is obviously of some years, but the fat he has gained has stopped the laugh lines, the wrinkles, and the sorrow from being etched into his features.

“Begin. What can you show us?” This time, the voice is warm and cheery, like a spring cheerleader. This time, he sees a black speaker set into the ceiling, some distance from the man in the chair.

“The truth.” Gabriel raises his fist, as though he was about to strike the air, and shakes it ever so gently. A spark floats gently out of his grasp, and hovers a few feet from the captive. He makes no response at first, and continues to focus on some point on the facing wall.

The spark begins tracing out a figure eight, and suddenly a change erupts over the man. Sweat pours down his brow, as if he had just realized that it was hot. The fine gray hairs in his head blur, along with his nose and hands. His mouth sags open and a cough erupts from it, violent and phlegmatic.

The spark is now gone, and the man is silent again. But, he is changing. A slimming of the waist, a widening of the bosoms, and a withdrawal of the nose all happen simultaneously. Within another few seconds, the bound figure becomes a female.

A murmur is heard from the speaker. Then words from the high voice. “Impressive.”

He lowers his fist, and raises his unclenched hand. “The lies,” Gabriel utters, in a voice as delicate as that of a moth’s wing.

The girl speaks gibberish rapidly, as though she has never been introduced to language before. Then, her speech stops, and picks up again. This time, it is sensible, but so fast that Gabriel's ears only catch:

“…and Beth Ann is such a bitch! Jimmy told her to tell me he’d meet me a five forty, but she said seven twenty! And by then, I had already made out with Frank, and…”

He lowers his hand, and she stops. The speaker is silent.

“I can show you life.” Gabriel is careful to place enunciation on this last syllable. With a gentle flourish, he sweeps back his sleeve, to free up his fist and stares hard at the ceiling.

The girl begins to grow taller, her breasts becoming fuller, and more pronounced. At some point, she stops growing, and her hair begins thinning, graying, and falling out. Her body shrinks into a mound of wrinkles and puckers. Suddenly, she is a mass of flesh, pink and raw. Then, the girl is a baby, swathed still in the clothes of the middle-aged man who sat in the chair only moments before her.

Then, the baby grows, its face widening, toes lengthening, and hair growing. Soon, she reaches maturity, and Gabriel stares at her. The weird growth ceases, and the speaker asks a question. “What’s in the fist?” This time, the voice is loud and childish, as though a rambunctious ten-year old has seized the mike.

Gabriel makes a prodding motion with his toe. In an instant, the floor drops away, the walls are gone, and the girl in the chair turns to him, staring through him into the darkness of the void that is behind him and all around them.

“I can show you fear in a handful of dust.” Tossing his now open fist, Gabriel delivers a pile of it in the air. He turns on his heel, and the scene returns to its original setting. He leaves the room just as a red mist begins to replace the dust, and hears the beginnings of a scream as he closes the door with the stained hinge.

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