Black Door Novels & Stories

~This chapter contains graphic sexual content~ I pushed the door open and the room was pitch black as promised, the light from the hall showed a little closet by the door and it was open. I let the door close and lifted my purse off quickly, to set it down so I would be able to find it later. “Hey Eve, you found me,” I heard a voice from much further in the room. “I guess so,” I said, putting out my arms trying to feel around. Did he want me to walk back there or should I wait here for him?

The memory of my dead friend being pulled into the darkness suddenly struck me so hard I couldn't breathe. "Yes, my dear, sweet Mila. You must save her." "But she's back," Isabell cocked her head to the side. "Is she?" My brow furrowed. "That wasn't Mila was it? She was all wrong." Mother nodded. "Look for the man in black. He will lead you to the items you need to save her. You must perform the ritual to bring her back." "The man in black," I murmured thinking of the mysterious shadow man.

Bethany, Xavier, Mr Torres, Stacy, Jason and Blaze all had beautiful smiles on their faces but as you know happiness can disappear in a flick of your fingers. The door came down to reveal a lady, standing with a sinister grin, dressed in fitted leather black trousers with black sneakers. She had different piercing filled with black studs and dangling earrings. Her hair was packed in a ponytail, with dark shades shoved into the upper part. Her black huge leather jacket sat upon a black crop top. Everything on her was as black as the devil's soul. "Rich!" She called happily "Mom...?" Stacy dropped her fork and her jaw dropped. "Witch?" Blaze's eyes dilated, she couldn't believe the view in fro

It should be illegal to look this nerve wrecking. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a patch of clear slightly tanned skin. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showing off the prominent veins that ran up his back hand. I felt the breath hitch in my wind pipes as our eyes met, his mesmerizing green stare made my cheeks flush and my knees go weak, it was like I was paralyzed as I stood there while his eyes still roamed me. "I don't think I've introduced myself. Damon Blackwood" his husky voice made my heart rate pick up. A smirk crawled unto his features as he stretched out a hand for me and I just stared in awe, his words sinking in.

Siora stepped forward into the brush when a thump echoed beneath her foot. “What was that?” she asked, kneeling. She brushed away the tangled grass and dead leaves, revealing what looked like a weathered wooden trapdoor embedded into the ground. “Should we even be touching that?” I asked, wary. Zevarion gave a casual shrug, though his eyes never left the door. Before we could decide anything more, the trapdoor creaked open from beneath. A young woman emerged. She had striking gray eyes and wild black hair. In one hand she held a dagger, not raised, but ready. Her gaze flicked over each of us assessing, sharp and unafraid.

I reached for the door handle next, pushing down on it with more force than necessary. To my utter shock and confusion, it opened with a soft click. The door opened with a low creak, revealing the luxurious hallway behind it. It was dimly lit, just as quiet as the bedroom. So quiet I could hear every frantic beat that pounded against my ribs. I stepped past the threshold, my cautious eyes scanning every corner for movement. For any threat. Why did Noir leave the door open? Was it intentional? Or did they slip up...make a mistake, giving me an advantage?

Coal growled, and Maverick nodded. “I promise there'll be nothing left of that room when we leave,” Maverick said before kicking the first door on the right open. When he did, he heard the muffled cry from a room at the far end of the apartment. Shade pushed forward and found a door at the back of the apartment that looked different than the others. It looked heavier and thicker, with several deadbolts on the outside. The muffled cries were coming from within that room. Shade sensed two wolves in the room, and one was in pain.

"Or are you here to inspect my technique?" A low, humorless scoff escaped his lips. He took two long, measured strides toward me, stopping just out of arms' reach. The rich, woodsmoke-and-frost scent of him filled the space around us, overpowering the smell of soap and damp stone. "There's an intruder moving through this pack," he murmured softly, his gaze narrowing as if he were trying to read every thought spinning behind my eyes. "Someone who thinks they can walk right past our wards, slip into our private quarters, and leave without a single trace. A ghost."

It was made of solid, black wood. A black door? All the other bedroom doors are brown or hazelnut. Why is this one black? The dark door seemed to radiate a weird, heavy aura that she couldn't quite place. It was terrifying. She turned the knob carefully and pushed the door open. Thankfully, it wasn't locked.

Wulstan’s voice echoed back from absolute nothingness. “Below the foundations,” Osbert answered, his tone nervous. “Below the water table, which I would like somebody to explain to me at a later date.” Then the floor levelled out, the lamplight found the far wall, and every one of us stopped dead. It was not a door. Blackthorn’s gate is a door—iron-bound, forty feet high, and built to be admired on the way past. This was a massive slab of white stone spanning the entire end of the cavern, from the floor to whatever was up there, without a hinge, handle, or seam anywhere on it. Cut into its face in a single continuous line was a spiral of characters winding inward and inward, so small at the