Booktok Doorframe Lean Novels & Stories

He can’t stop being amused by how sturdy the materials used on building the whole floors are. At the second floor of the building, there are eight rooms, four at each side facing each other. Each door has names on it that indicate who owns the room. Kanaye stepped forward when he saw his own name at the door. He hurriedly opened the door out of excitement. The door is heavy and is made of very sturdy wood. At waist level on the left of the door is a metal panel, which supports a large metal doorknob.

Niko As I survey the room, I notice three distinct doors, each providing access in and out of this space. The first door, positioned at the back, swings open to reveal a cramped area filled with storage cupboards. Among the clutter, I spot an elderly woman nestled among the shadows, her presence almost hidden. She exudes an air of gentle vulnerability, with silver strands framing her soft, weathered face. Though her age marks her features, she radiates a sense of inherent harmlessness, as if shaped by years of quiet resilience.

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.

Brady’s POV With the added security, no matter how hard they tried or how strongwilled they were, the door was built with the best security measures. It’d take at least an hour to break down such a door. The door to the cabin was an in-built door layered with aluminum alloy and steel plates, featuring four hinges. Steel doors are more challenging to steal down. The glazing was impenetrable, with an added layer of cherry, oak, and mahogany.

On the next floor, a couple of apartments are occupied, silhouettes moving behind the windows, the blue shimmer of a TV. On the fourth storey, balconied windows are brightly lit, at the front, and when I check around the corner, at the side too. Figures move in the light. I can't make out the details, but several people are moving around inside, mostly male... But there's another... Is that a woman? Then I see Wonder Boy, standing at the window, lighting up a cigarette. Keeping to the shadows as much as I can, I make my way to the door. Someone's taking their security seriously. The door is solid, well-constructed and the lock is a high-quality multi-action model. I could break in...

How do we get out? “I have a back door” he said with a smirk ‘A back door? We’re 14 floors above ground what is this man talking about?’ I thought as he took my hand, pulling me to the side. “A back door?” I scoffed “Open..” he said. Just as we stood, the bookshelf that stayed at the corner had begun to move. “Mr Cawthorn! Why don’t you show us your wife?” We heard from outside. “Is she scarred?” Another asked.

Linda remarked. "I don't blame him, he's probably had it rough." Brant shrugged. Linda knocked again. "What again!" Mr Walborn scolded her as he angrily popped his head through the half opened the door. The door was barely even serving its purpose as a door. Part of it had been consumed by wood louse, folding and faulting had had its fair share on the door. The doorknob wasn't something to reckon about. Rust had eaten a greater part of it.

It was enough. Rowan moved away from the window. "The back of the cottage opens into thicker forest." Kael shook his head. "Too obvious." "So what's your plan?" Kael's eyes travelled around the room. They stopped at the old bookshelf. "Help me move it." Rowan frowned. "The bookshelf?" "Just push." The two men leaned against the heavy wood. It refused to move at first. Then it scraped across the floor with a deep groan. Behind it was a narrow wooden door.

Sometimes they also keep them hungry. A blast echoes somewhere above, snapping me back into the present. The vault. The reinforced steel door has buckled but not collapsed. Smoke pours through the gaps around its frame. I wedge a crowbar beneath the edge and throw every ounce of strength into forcing it wider. It gives with a scream of tortured metal. But it is finally open. Inside, dozens of shelves have already fallen. Then I see it. A small metal lockbox, dented but intact beneath part of a collapsed cabinet.