Booktok Door Frame Lean Novels & Stories

A bicycle with one wheel missing leaned against a shelf. Then I saw it. A door. It was tucked away behind a shelf, small and wooden, with a rusted lock. The key in my pocket burned against my leg. My father’s words from the journal came back… “f you’re reading this, it means you found the door." I pulled the shelf aside, coughing from the dust. The door looked older than the rest of the house. Its frame was crooked, as if someone had built it in a hurry. My hands shook as I tried the key.

That meant that there was a space behind it. So Warren searched the room again. On the bookshelf where he found the books, he slowly picked out the books, one by one to see if there was a mechanism to open the hidden door. But he still couldn't find anything. Warren then decided to use force and bust open the wall with a Reiteki-infused punch, but even that was unsuccessful.

The air helped clear my head a little, but the world still tilted just slightly. I walked up the perfectly manicured path, my key already in hand. But as I reached the heavy oak door, my hand paused. It wasn't quite shut. A sliver of darkness, no wider than my thumb, stretched between the door and the frame. My brow furrowed. That was odd. I was careful about locking up. Laura was too. She hated even the idea of something being out of place.

I said. “It doesn't have to mean anything,” Rowan reasoned, but I was already by the door. I ran back to the lab, finding the spot Catherine had been looking at. Enzo and Rowan joined me a moment later, surveying the nearly empty shelf with nothing but a single book on it. I picked up the book and heard a faint click. Then the whole shelf began to slide to the side, revealing a door with a key panel. “Holy shit,” Enzo muttered.

The others had followed her lead and were all headed to their own doors. “I guess the saying, ‘You can’t judge a book by its cover’ works on doors too,” Beecher teased, poised and ready to open his own door. It was not painted and in fact looked to be made of distressed wood. “If there was any justice you would find a doggie bed inside your door.” Aquina blushed, knowing she had been caught trying to find the fanciest room.

Haley crossed to the door and began examining the hinges, how the two swinging pieces were attached. "They made sure to tell me this bar that the doors attach to is anchored into the foundation." "But what about the hinges? The screws? Bolts? One weak point could change everything." She was aware of Konstantin at her back while she went over the doors. They weren't cheaply made, which was a disappointment. The bars were as thick as her thumb, so not likely to bend, and she doubted they'd be able to break them. And there were no hinges. The post went through holes formed into the gates.

Not quite a smile. "Come in," he said, and stepped back from the door. The inside of the house was not what I had expected. I had prepared myself for an extension of the fourteenth floor. The controlled stark look, the deliberate quiet, the atmosphere of a space that had been designed to function rather than to feel. But the entrance hall had a child's drawing framed on the wall. A large figure and a small figure standing in front of something that might have been a house or might have been a tree. The large figure had dark scribbled hair. The small figure had what appeared to be a rabbit under one arm.

It possessed a geometry that was too perfect for the rough, organic interior of the hut. It was a Door. The frame shimmered with a faint, violet luminescence, pulsing gently like a slow heartbeat. The center of the door was a swirling vortex of black, but deep within that blackness, Ressi could see faint glimmers, like distant galaxies spinning in a void. It looked deep—impossibly deep. The fire in the hearth seemed to shrink away from it. The temperature in the hut plummeted. Fear, cold and primal, washed over him. He scrambled backward until his back hit the reed door he had been about to open. "Mungu wangu," he whispered.

I hear a rush of movement outside, and then– BAM! The door shakes violently and I see a crack split through the center. But the structure still stands steady like a sentinel as dust sprinkles down from the top. Another bang resounds through the space and I watch one of the hinges tear partly off the wall with a loud snap. My eyes widen, fingers digging deep into the couch as I hold my breath. With a deep growl that shakes my very bone, I hear Kellan slam his foot into the door with finality.

Julian was beside her with considerably less of the sheet covering him and an expression on his face that moved through surprise and irritation and landed on something that was mostly irritation. "Out," he said. "Your door was open," I said. "It was not open." "It was four inches open." "That is not open, Kai, that is a door that did not fully latch, which is a thing that happens with old hinges, and a person with any social awareness understands the difference and does not walk through it."