Booktok Door Frame Novels & Stories

Dook turned toward the glow, staring into the narrowing gap of the door. - Another burst of power, Alud quickly to the wall! commanded the librarian. Alud quickly pressed himself against the wall next to Duk, breathing heavily. The door practically closed, several powerful streams of fire managed to escape through a narrow gap, dousing the werewolves with heat. The door finally closed, with a slight click of the internal lock. A small shudder ran through the walls, caused by a powerful burst of fire from the body of the Volkodlak. In a moment, everything was silent, only breathing and the crackling of the torch in Alud's hands.

I felt the force work it's way up and down every nerve in my body, giving me the needed juice to exact my revenge. "Open the gates now!" Orvyn's voice barred into my mind and I opened my eyes with a smirk, the wind reducing to a gentle breeze. I did a quick mental calculation of the time it'd take me to beat Alpha Cassian to a pulp before Orvyn interfered. The mighty mahogany double doors were thirty meters high from the ground, spanning twenty inches in width. Three long rectangular oaken poles secured the door from behind, with each weighting a whooping seven hundred pounds.

Yet there seemed to be an endless amount of these insects coming from the dimensional door, pouncing on Wilbur as they landed. At the same time, Angela and Baru had also retreated behind Kolton. A large amount of spiritual energy surged out of Angela and Baru to enter Kolton. The dimensional door shone brilliantly, echoing with blood-curdling screams. Wilbur continued casting the Boulder Dragon Bomb while observing the dimensional door calmly. The door was about three meters tall and two meters wide. It was surrounded by a gray doorframe forged out of spiritual energy. Upon taking a closer look, the doorframe was actually entirely made of runes as it burned with eerie gray spiritual flames.

It may not have been dangerous yet but moving toward it, the ventilation was losing its argument with the source. Two rooms had their doors closed and from behind the second one I could hear voices, one of them shouting, one of them lower. I tried the handle. Locked, no not locked, stuck. The heat differential in the frame was warping the wood against the plate, the mechanism was still functional but the door was held in place by physics rather than security. I set my shoulder against it. Once, feeling the resistance. Again, harder, my wolf lending what he could through the narrow channel of what I'd kept him to.

Survive. The back door clicks shut. The house goes quiet in that eerie, vacuum-sealed way that only happens right before violence. I take a breath I don’t feel. Then I step forward. The metal security door rattles as I unlock it. Thick bars. Reinforced hinges. We installed it years ago because Hour insisted. Because he’d grown up knowing doors were never just doors. Behind it is the front door—also metal. Cold. Heavy. No decorative glass. No welcome mat energy. Just function. I open the security door. The second I touch the handle of the front door, it slams inward.

When I was sure nobody had tampered with it, I downed the whole thing in one go. I went to the futon and inspected it. Wasn't anything special...the frame was made out of simple wood but the bedding looked worn out. I went up to the door and gently pulled it by the handles towards me. It was locked...so bad that I couldn't even giggle it if I wanted to. I felt along the wall to the left of the door...feeling for anything, any sort of pipping or fitting in the walls I could use as a weapon.

Their footsteps were heavy and even and they walked slightly ahead of me, close enough that it was clear I was being escorted, far enough that it didn't look like dragging. When we reached the tall wooden door at the end of the hall, one of them knocked twice, sharp and quick, then opened it and stepped aside. I stepped through alone. The door closed behind me. The room stopped me for half a second before I remembered to keep moving. It was large in a way that was almost aggressive about it. Dark charcoal walls, almost black, and on the left side bookshelves running floor to ceiling with actual books, hundreds of them, the kind with cracked spines and worn edges that had clearly been read an

I tilted my head, giving a small nod. Kyle reached out and pressed the spine of a blue book. It shifted. Slide inward. A soft, mechanical click followed, and the entire bookshelf trembled before slowly pulling away—revealing a hidden door concealed behind it. My breath caught. Kyle stepped closer, gripping the golden doorknob. He twisted it twice in opposite directions. Click. The sound echoed softly in the stillness. Then, with a long, creaking sigh— the door opened. My jaw fell open the moment I stepped inside.

She stopped at the door next to the media room, turned the handle and pushed it open. It was incredible. The layout was the same as Kota’s room. From the door to the right was an enormous white four poster king sized bed. The comforter was the same pale blue fluffy cloud that was on Kota’s bed. There were double doors on either side of the bed, I could see the bathroom light on beyond one of the open doors. To the left of the bedroom door was the most eye-catching fireplace surrounded by stones of all shapes and sizes in varying shades of gray and blue. A sleek TV hung above it, but the best part was the floor to ceiling bookshelves that flanked the fireplace and were completely filled. Two