The Back Door

Across time and continents, a mysterious violet Door appears to those in their darkest hour. It is not just an escape; it is a summons. In modern-day Tanzania, Resipicius ("Ressi") is a young man crushed by poverty and aimlessness. When the glowing portal tears through the wall of his crumbling hut, he steps into the void, leaving his world behind. But the mystery of the Door began long ago. In 1921, twins Mwanamalundi and Mwajuma were born with the power to command the storm and the earth. Destined to protect their people, they built a sanctuary against colonial oppression. However, their rise provoked Baraka, a jealous rival who betrayed them to German forces. In the ensuing battle, Baraka found redemption in a sacrificial death, but tragedy struck the twins. Mwajuma fell into the Chozi la Ardhi—a mystical pond that defied gravity to become the very first Door—and vanished into the stars. Now, the Door has opened again for Ressi and others across the globe. The prophecy foretold that help would come from other worlds. The scattered heroes are being gathered, and the true war is about to begin.

He knocked once. She opened the door. Nothing has been the same since. Maya has spent the last two years learning how to breathe again. After surviving a violent relationship that shattered her from the inside out, all she wants is silence. Safety. Control. But when a new tenant moves in next door, her carefully rebuilt life begins to unravel. Elias Graves is tall, quiet, and just out of prison. No past. No apologies. No promises. He doesn’t ask for anything. He just watches. And when Maya leaves her door unlocked one night, he walks in. What begins as a collision of need and heat quickly spirals into something darker, something Maya swore she would never want again. He gives her the pain she craves and the pleasure she hates herself for needing. But secrets live between their bodies, and some doors—once opened—won’t ever close again. This is not a love story. It’s a story about addiction. About survival. About surrendering to a man who might just ruin her… or finally teach her how to survive the fire.

In a cruel place where there's no room for failure because failure means blood and death. The challenge is simple. Survive and escape the claws of your doom. The race against death's door begins once you enter the door...

After returning from a business trip, I discovered that my wife had unexpectedly replaced the floor-to-ceiling window in her office with an entire wall of mirrors. When I questioned her about it, she looked at me with gentle eyes and smiled as she straightened my tie. "This way, when you come to keep me company during overtime, you won't have to fuss over checking your appearance. Don't overthink it. I had the nutritionist prepare some soup to help you recover. Drink it while it's hot." I found it strange. She was a career-driven woman who had always complained that my suits made me look too stiff and formal. Yet now, she had suddenly changed her tune. Still, I did not say anything. I simply smiled and walked over to the mirror, unscrewing the lid of the thermos. But the moment the hot steam rose into the air, two large oval-shaped marks slowly emerged on the previously spotless mirror. And in the corner, there was a faint smear of lipstick. I compared the height with a quick gesture and let out a cold laugh. 'A familiar height of five foot three and a C-cup. Office mirror reflections. How bold and thrilling.' I pulled out a tissue and calmly wiped the mirror clean before calling my assistant. "Get a renovation crew ready. Tonight, replace the mirror in Ms. Sutton's office with a two-way mirror. And notify the media. Three days from now, I'll be holding a live press conference downstairs."

"You came here for a reason, What is it?" "Do I need a reason to be around you?" "Shut the fuck up, Raynard, I know you well enough to know when you are after something." He took purposeful steps towards me and only stopped when he had my back plastered against the wall. Cupping my cheeks, he said,

I heard a small "come in" from the other end. Grabbing the knob, I twist it before pushing the door open. My eyes widened as I saw the scene unfold in front of me. Xavier stood there in the room along with a woman whose brown hair ruffled all over the place. Her blood-red lipstick was smudged. She was dressed in a revealing top. Her breast almost spilling out of her dress and extra tight and small skirt as if she'd just come from some club, her arms crossed and her features amused. She looked strangely familiar for some reason, and it took me a while to identify her, but I did. She was the same woman I had bumped into on the market. My eyes swiftly turned to Xavier. He was dressed in a suit identical to the one Xavier wore with the top few buttons open. What caught my eyes the most was the lipstick stain on his neck identical to the one the woman had on. My heart slumped in deep dejection. It wasn't any science- rocket to know what had occurred here before my arrival.