Black Door Bell Novels & Stories

The doorbell had rung, a subtle tinkle usually overlooked in the soft hum of **Chapter & Soul**. But today, it had been as if a storm had blown into the shop. Lena stopped shelving a collection of classics and stood still. He handed back in. Julian Blackwood.

Bong! Bong! Bong! A series of explosive ringing of the Requiem Clock finally forced out the black figure lurking in the lady’s corpse. That was still a black shadow, but a woman's contour was visible. She furiously screamed, “Abomination! How dare you ruin my important business?! Go to hell!” The black shadow directly rushed toward Alex. However, Alex had the Requiem Clock in his hand. This was a holy Buddhist tool, and it shocked the black shadow to the point her soul trembled, and she couldn't stop screaming.

he asked. “Now,” I said softly, “we pretend this is a visit of peace.” “And secretly?” he probed I turned, my eyes sharp, glinting like silver. “We find the truth beneath the frost.” Bobby grinned. “Now you’re speaking my language.” But even as he spoke, the air in the chamber seemed to grow colder. Somewhere deep within the castle, a bell tolled — low, slow, and ancient. My gaze flickered toward the sound. “That’s the Temple Bell,” i murmured. It hasn't rung since my mother's death.

"Nic?" "I'm fine," she muttered. But she wasn’t. The darkness wasn’t just stirring anymore. It was waiting. Dean pressed his weight against the stone, testing it. For a moment, nothing happened. Then -a deep, grinding noise rumbled through the ruins. The sigil on the door glowed. Not gold. Not white. Black. Like ink bleeding through water. Nicola’s breath caught. Then, the door swung open. Cold. The passage beyond the door was cold.

The bell above the door of Nocturnal Blooms chimed, a soft, silver sound that was always followed by her scent. Valtor looked up from the stark black petals of a Mourning Glory, his undead heart giving a single, hard thump in his chest. Rivenna.

He's not kidding. I nod. "Dinner's ready." *** 4am. The cabin door rattles with three loud bangs, followed by another three, and then another. It makes me wonder who the hell would come here this early in the morning and why they’re being so demanding. I rush downstairs to find Oliver behind the door and when he opens it, two large men stand glaring at him. “The doorbell is just as effective, you know,” he says sarcastically. “We’re looking for a lady named Bella,” one of them says ignoring his tone, while the other peaks into the house over Oliver’s shoulder. My heart skips as his eyes land on me.

The bells rang without hands touching them. That was how I knew it had begun. Not the ceremonial bells. Not the ones for gatherings or grief. These rang from underneath the city, a deep iron toll that vibrated through bone and stone alike, slow and deliberate, each note spaced just far enough apart to make your nerves stretch thin waiting for the next. Kaden’s head snapped up first. Kael followed a heartbeat later. “That’s not an alarm,” Kael said quietly. “No,” I replied. “It’s a summons.”

All the walls were made of stone, as was the floor itself. Black and the Elder walked in silence, but each step was clearly audible. It bounced off the walls of the dungeon and carried a dull echo through it. They did not walk for very long and after a couple of minutes they were in front of an iron door. Jack reached out and nudged it, and it slid open without a sound. Black stepped into the space hidden by the closed door and saw his enemy. The one he hated with all his unrestrained soul! The Beast appeared before him!

[Cillian’s POV] Bong. Bong. Bong. The heavy iron bells of the Blackwood chapel did not sound like a celebration. To my ears, they sounded like a funeral dirge, tolling for the death of my soul. I stood at the high altar, dressed in ceremonial armor polished to a blinding silver shine. The great hall was packed with hundreds of lords and generals, their heavy fur cloaks and polished swords catching the light of a thousand flickering white candles. The air was suffocatingly thick with the smell of burning myrrh and Selene’s cloying, sweet perfume.

said Keegs as I shivered from the wind. We made our way through the broken chain link fence and un-shoveled walkway. The porch light was dim but bright enough where we could see. There was an old pair of silver bells with a bow on the door. Normally I would have thought it was a sign of the season, but seeing that it had been there all year round, it just annoyed me. Keegs was on the right, I on the left with my finger on the peek hole. I pounded the door, counting each and every strike.