Backrooms Level 7 Novels & Stories

Audrey opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling above her. The minimalist crystal chandelier and ceiling made of wood made Audrey aware of where she was at the moment. Audrey tried to move, but she felt like her bones were pulling out of joints and she let out a low groan. Audrey felt movement next to her and turned her head, seeing Liam half n*ked by her side. Audrey remembered last night and blushed. They had brutal s*x many times until almost three in the morning and it seemed Audrey was unconscious after reaching her umpteenth orgasm.

They were misfits. Misfits healing misfits. Would you like to continue this tone into Chapter 6, where Johnny and Minnie’s past begins to subtly surface?

However, I simply turned off my phone, put in my earbuds, and closed my eyes. When Sienna still didn't get a response, she pulled my curtain open. It was already past 1:00 am, but another roommate was still up playing video games. The glow of her monitor flashed against my eyelids as the keyboard clacked in the background. "Melissa? Melissa? Are you asleep?" Sienna's voice grew louder. At that point, it was loud enough to wake anyone up. Still, I kept my eyes tightly shut, determined not to move. I knew Sienna's game. I knew I couldn't give in because if I opened my eyes, she would get exactly what she wanted.

When she tried to lift herself up, she groaned at the heaviness that her body was feeling. Then, sensing the presence of someone nearby, Tang Yazhu turned her head to the left. At the turn, she saw an IV drip and a man sitting on a chair next to her bed wearing a fitted full black suit. Despite wanting to pay attention to his face, she could only see his well-built body. In a hoarse voice, she asked the man, "I-I'm… alive?" She tried reaching out her left hand to touch him, wanting to see if this was truly real. However, being quite weak, her hand could only begin to fall. Just before it hit the bed though, the man grabbed her hand, holding onto it.

Chapter 9: Black Backbreaker The hallway throbs, a pulsing chamber of raw sensation. Her moans, broken and blissful beneath his kiss, are a symphony of surrender that fuels his relentless drive. He feels her body arching against him, her hips grinding, a desperate, unbidden response to his every thrust. Her legs, wrapped tight around his waist, pull him deeper, locking him in, an anchor to her unravelling. Her mouth, hot and pliant beneath his, accepts his demanding kiss, swallowing his urgency, silencing her fading protests. The wet slap of their skin against the wall, the rhythmic thwack of flesh on flesh, is a drumbeat to their descent into primal ecstasy.

The transition from the "Basalt Throat" to the interior of the Second Tier was like stepping from a screaming battlefield into a cold, pressurized cathedral. The air here didn't just feel thin; it felt ancient, heavy with the clinical scent of cold silicon, ozone, and the metallic tang of genetic preservatives. This wasn't a cave system anymore. We had entered the Great Library of the Silver Gene—a subterranean expanse of glowing glass pillars that stretched for miles into the dark, hollowed-out heart of the Seventh Peak.

It was enough to pay for all of my mother's medical expenses. That worked just fine for me. Once my mother was in stable condition, I would take her far away from this filthy, godforsaken city and never come back. It wasn't long before Eva's imperious voice sounded again, ordering me upstairs to tidy up the bedroom for her. The moment I pushed open the door, the thick, cloying haze of sex hit me in the face. I'd already made up my mind to let go, but my heart still twisted in my chest, completely beyond my control.

Philip smiled and said with a nod, “Okay, thank you.” The guard snorted in response and stopped paying attention to Philip, who was unfazed. He walked to the stone at the entrance of the first level. The stone was red, and Philip saw the person before him press his palm on the stone. A number seven appeared above the stone. Obviously, this man's talent was not bad, and the number should refer to level seven. Sure enough, a ray of light burst out from the stone and sucked the man inside. The next moment, the dim light on level seven glowed briefly.

My back struck the unyielding oak of the door, and then we were moving, tangled together, until we fell onto the bed. I tore off his shirt, my fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back, and discovered that the King of the Seven Territories had been marked in about nine places by things I had never asked him to name. I dragged my mouth across the worst of them, tasting salt and heat, and the sound he made—a low, wrecked growl torn directly from his throat—vibrated through my ribs.

Everyone tensed. "Relax," he said, looking at my dad. "I'm not here as a colonel anymore. I quit this morning." He tossed a folder onto the mud at my feet. It slid open. Photos — concrete walls, broken doors, claw marks ten feet high. "Site 7 had a breach at 0600," he said. "Not from outside. From inside. Level three." My dad picked up a photo, went pale. Jonah whispered, "What is it?"