Blood On The Streets The Doors Novels & Stories

I felt myself hesitate as I approached the half-open red door, cringing when it creaked loudly as I pushed it open. “Saints,” I gasped, clapping my hands to my mouth to stifle the gasp that had been on the tip of my tongue when I saw the metal gurneys with chains clasped loosely around them and the impossible amount of blood that had pooled on the floor, shrinking back when the sound of footsteps pounding through the living area reached my ears.

The labels over the doors here were smaller and more cramped, as if the system didn’t consider these paths as “premium content.” JAX / JAX MARTIN – EARLY RELEASE. JAX – BETRAYAL EXIT. JAX – HEROIC DEATH. JAX – COLLATERAL. He stared up at the one that had his handle in caps. JAX – BETRAYAL EXIT. The glow around the frame was subtler than the Core Fusion door’s, but it was there—a faint, steady pulse, like a heartbeat under a shirt. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Of course that’s the one you want me to open, you voyeuristic piece of junk.”

As gorgeous as the room was, no one was in it. “Where are they?” Jamira was as confused as I was. She turned to face me, then grabbed my hand. She pulled me along as she dragged me down the hall to another door. This door was the color of blood. As I looked at it, I could see the color move like water. It was like someone actually put blood on the door, and it was steadily flowing down. Nothing hit the floor, nor came from above the door. The door knob was a skull. “Are we going in there?” I asked, trying to pull my hand away. I didn’t want to go through that door. The idea of what could be behind it scared me… A lot scared me.

I roar, slamming my hand against the dashboard. I kick the door open before the car fully stops, tuck and roll, hitting the wet pavement hard. I’m up in a second, sprinting toward the main entrance. I run straight into the teeth of the storm. The glass doors of the lobby are shattered. Bodies are scattered across the floor. The air is thick with the smell of cordite, drywall dust, and blood. Three mercenaries are guarding the elevator bank, rifles raised, laughing as they shoot out the security cameras.

"You can trust me." Those words scare me, but I'm forcing my fears away. I pushed the door open, and hopped out. Opening the back door to grab only my bag of clothes. I slammed the door back, and waved to Griffin before reaching for the human sized door in the gates. Which has been left open. Odd, but I don't ponder over it. I took one step in and the front door is thrown open, there stands my aunt with a small knife in her hand. Red liquid drips off the tip.

“I don’t want your help. I don’t want anyone’s help.” He wheels past me through the doorway into his bedroom, and I have to step back quickly to avoid getting hit by his chair. The door closes behind him with a solid thud that echoes down the hallway. I’m left standing there outside his studio with my hand still on the doorframe, alone, with nothing but the sound of that door closing and the ache spreading through my chest that won’t go away no matter how hard I try to push it down. I thought I was getting through to him.

Kaelen explicitly pushed himself off the stone pillar, giving the fleeing men a mocking, exaggerated sweep of his arm toward the exit. "Mind the glen on your way out, boys," Kaelen called out, a wicked grin flashing his fangs. "The roads get a bit slippery when the King is angry." The heavy oak front doors groaned open one last time, and the corporate suits practically tumbled out into the howling Scottish highland storm, the relentless rain instantly swallowing their retreating figures as the massive doors slammed shut behind them with a resounding, definitive thud.

an officer muttered mockingly as they dragged Elias toward the stairwell, shoving him into the harsh, flickering fluorescent light of the building's interior. The roof was left empty, the rain continuing to wash away the physical evidence of the Door, keeping its secrets for a world that was no longer there.

Beyond rage, I felt tears threatening to spill. After smoothing down my newly changed gown, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what I was about to do. Under Max Davis's stunned gaze, I stormed over and shoved the woman hard. She slammed against the wall before sliding to the floor, knocking over a wine glass that drenched her outfit. As she screamed, I turned and slapped Max across the face. I said coldly, "Care to explain how you plan to tie my hands?"

Mason The final race of The Streets was held at the same place as the first one, the docks. When Laina and I arrived, the place was spilling over with people. They were set up all the way down the street to get as good of a spot as they possibly could before the race started in four minutes. We had made it in the nick of time. Laina’s eyes were closed as we rolled through the crowd. I rested a hand on her knee, and she looked over at me. She was tired. I could see it in her eyes. “I’m okay,” she assured me.