Bajo La Puerta De Los Susurros Novels & Stories

I pressed myself against the door, sweating profusely. "If you're going to continue behaving this way, I'll call the cops!" I yelled The movement stopped, and there was dead silence. A long time later, I heard a sigh, just like the one I heard in my earphones last night. "What a pity. It's not fully ripe yet." I heard footsteps, but not of leather shoes tapping against the tiled floors. It felt like wet and sloppy, like bare feet against the mud. I slumped to the ground, staring at the crack beneath the door. Water slowly seeped in, and in the water, tiny threadlike shapes writhed like worms.

“ Meara!” The whispers started again, soft but notable. I tensed, my eyes snapping open. I scanned the field, but there was no one in sight. The sound seemed to come from the tree itself, from the rustling of its leaves. I pressed my palms against the rough bark and closed my eyes, focusing on the whispers. " Come... find... me..." The words were faint but distinct. My heart raced. Was I losing my mind, or was there something more to these whispers? I stood up, brushing the dirt off my jeans, and took a few steps back. The whispers grew louder, more insistent.

"Pre-Fracture. It says: The North is burning." He looked at Barzil’s closed office door. "And then it says: Door 4. Midnight."

Michael stood in the center of the room with a grave expression. The night before, we had requested the nannies to take the children out to play to wear them out. They were both sleeping soundly at that moment. Michael took a deep breath. He raised the music box high in the air, about to smash it on the floor. "No!" A shrill, distorted voice that did not belong to a baby rang out. The baby in the crib writhed, her features contorting in pain, her mouth stretched open to an unnatural degree. Avery's venom-filled voice echoed through the entire room.

Sebastian turns into a narrow alley, and I glance back at the busy street behind us before stepping after him. The alley narrowed further, dim light filtering down between the buildings. The music of the main road faded behind us, replaced by an eerie quietness that had a chill shooting up my spine. My steps faltered as we approached a heavy stone door with no sign or markings to identify it. This place makes me nervous. Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He tapped the handle of his sword around his waist sharply on the stone three times and waited. Moments later, the loud sound of grinding came as the door slightly cracked open, revealing a half-masked figure with only their black eyes showing thro

She wasn’t even near the door. She was in the bedroom. And the door was half-open. Peter froze mid step. A sound drifted out toward him soft, breathless, intimate. A man’s low groan. A woman’s choked whisper. His blood turned to ice. “No” Peter whispered, barely breathing. He moved forward on instinct alone, each step sinking heavier, slower, as if the world was dragging him backward, fighting to spare him from what he was about to see. His hand brushed the doorframe as he reached the bedroom.

Dorothy stands before the electronic keypad, she places her hand over it and begins to chant: “Follow where the blind are leading, listen where the mutes are keening, take the road that splits asunder, nor left nor right, but travel under, where oneself meets the other, one from two and strange combining, with the other intertwining. Ceiling to floor, I command thee to open the door.”

But something inside me whispers, Don’t be so sure. Baekhoon is like a jump scare in a horror movie. You think you’re alone. You’re not. I slide the key into the lock slowly, trying not to make a sound. The door creaks a little as it opens. I wince. Inside, it’s quiet. Too quiet.

"Some people are just dumb like that. They don't cherish what they have until it's gone." Unbothered, I looked down at Shawn. "Your friends are watching. Keep some dignity. I'm out. My daughter's waiting." I stepped over him, but he scrambled to his feet, grabbing my wrist just as I reached the door.

He asked, "Remember this? At Harrowell Library, you were reading by the window. The sun was shining on you, and I thought there wouldn't be anyone in the world as beautiful as you." I snapped the box shut. "The past is the past." "I can't let it go. I just can't," he said, all serious. Rain poured down in Hudson City that night. I figured he would leave, but then security called me way past midnight. "Ms. Douglas, Mr. Carter's still downstairs." I peeked out the window, and there he was—standing in the rain, stubborn as ever. "Let him in." I sighed. He was soaked through when he stood at my door, looking like a total mess.