Backrooms Level 4 Novels & Stories

“Eason. Lucas is fine at the confinement center. Why did you bring back a random baby? What’s going on?” I was stunned. “A random baby? Amy, what are you saying? This is Lucas!” Amy took a step forward, wanting to take the baby in my arms. “I think you have gone mad. Hurry and throw out this random baby!” She was so strong that I almost lost my hold of Lucas. I was utterly confused. “Amy, you look closely. This is definitely Lucas.” Amy moved back as if she saw something dirty. At this moment, the bedroom door swung open.

First floor. Second. Third. Each level was worse than the last. More bodies. More poison victims. The fourth‑floor hallway came into view, its cracked tiles a guttered river of stale air. The moment the door at the end of the corridor loomed, the smell hit me like a wall. A rotten sweetness, thick enough to coat my tongue, made each breath feel like swallowing decay. Even as an Alpha, my lungs burned; my throat tightened, and my vision swam for a heartbeat.

The front doors were completely shattered, pieces of glass glittering on the wet pavement like tiny ice blocks. Marcus was waiting in the shadows of the entrance, a dark streak of blood drying on his forehead. He looked tired and beaten. "Alpha," Marcus panted, holding a silver gun with a trembling hand. "They're on Level 4, moving toward the server room. We can't stop them. The green light coming off their skin is making our wolves sick before they can even get close." I stepped out of the car, pulling the heavy platinum necklace tight around my neck. The violet light under my skin started to buzz again, waking up for a fight.

The words settled over the room like ash. Julian blinked. "What does that even mean?" Marcus pointed downward. Not toward the lobby. Not toward the parking garage. Straight beneath their feet. "Hawthorne didn't disappear." His voice dropped to almost a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the building's failing lights. "They rebuilt Level Four beneath Sterling Tower." The room went utterly silent. Ellie felt Damien go completely still beside her. Then every light in the conference room flickered once. Twice. Three times.

"You looking tonight. Just got a twink walk in here like 30 minutes ago. You might kick it off." "Nah. Not in the mood tonight. Are there any goods in the backrooms?" He nods and that's where I'm headed. The backrooms are rooms specifically for insane orgies and drug abuse. I enter one of them and take a seat on the cum soaked chair. Someone is handing out pills and I'm not too shy to take 5. He tells me they're strong and 5 isn't healthy. I ignore the warning and swallow them with my beer. Nothing happens so I reach out to take a joint. 2 steps and I'm crashing on the table. The others laugh at me. I'm laughing at myself too.

The Core of The Grave was a cathedral of rusted iron and screaming steam. A central shaft dropped five hundred feet into the black gut of a hollowed-out supertanker, lined with hanging server racks that looked like suspended coffins. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and the rhythmic, metallic thrum of the massive cooling fans below. "The extraction team is on Level 4," Siren’s voice crackled over Julian’s stolen earpiece. "They’ve brought a portable uplink. If they finish the bridge, they’ll have the satellite, and I’ll have a reason to sink this ship with you on it."

#HAREM_OF_LUST 🔞 #CHAPTER_4 🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊 🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊 🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊 🕊🕊🕊 🕊🕊 🕊 #OMNICIENT_POV 👳

I hauled my aching back up to the fourth floor. The busted wooden door of Dorm 4404 creaked open, and a foul stench hit me. It had me gagging and hacking for breath. A sickly yellow glow leaked out through the crack, along with a sound that made my teeth ache. It sounded like bones being gnawed and chewed to splinters. I took a deep breath and stepped inside. Lord have mercy! The place was a landfill come to life.

The words burned into the holographic glass, casting a cold, eerie crimson light across my face. WELCOME BACK, HEIR. The silence that followed was so suffocating, it felt heavy enough to suffocate us all. The only sound in the heart of Level Four was the low, rhythmic hum of the damaged mainframe. "What..." My voice was barely a squeak, the word dying in my throat before it could truly form. I stared at the screen, my mind spinning so fast that the text started looking blurry. Heir? Heir to what?