Door Crack Blocker Novels & Stories

There are no windows to escape from or air vents … the floor looks to be made or a smooth layer of cement. Biting my lip, I look back at the wardrobe door as an idea comes to mind. I don’t know if it will work, but I might as well try. With a powerful and swift kick, the wardrobe door shatters off the hinges, splintering into fresh pieces. I grab one, hoping it will work as I wedge it in the small crack of the door. “Contestant Soley, Please move away from the door,” a robotic voice comes through the speaker. I run, charging towards it as I land a foot on the wood, ready to propel up and shatter the lock. Before I can succeed, I hear the clicks of the lock opening before a puff of air and th

Rylan carries a toolbox and Roberto has a sledgehammer. There's a large padlock on the door and it looks like it's been sealed up tight. But that's not going to stop us. I reach for the sledgehammer and Roberto hands it over. Then, I lift it high and slam it down. After a couple of attempts, the lock breaks. Yanking it off and tossing it aside, we study the material holding the door closed like glue. Looks like they used caulk or some kind of sealant. "Now what?" I ask, dropping the sledgehammer.

She stated matter of factly as she clutched at her necklace that had a large danburite pendant. “Then she locked the door before we could correct her and let them inside. The door has a time code and can only be opened once every hour once it’s closed; so we’ve been stuck with this rat since they went down there.” Another interjected as Grace slapped the omega again for good measure.

I couldn't imagine the gruff, grizzled cop I remembered as head of hotel security. My glazier friend and his crew arrived about an hour and a half after I did. The material they put in the sliding doors that led from Lyca's bedroom to the balcony outside it was actually some kind of super-tough plastic and was almost three inches thick." "Like I said, unless this asshole you guys are dealing with uses a goddamn cannon, he's not shooting through this stuff," Maurice, the owner of the glass shop, said when he showed me the installation. "And the nice thing is, just looking at this stuff, you can't really tell it's special, you know?"

When we reached the second door at the end of the corridor, we found an electronic lock that could not be destroyed. I flung the bolt cutter at it, and sparks flew everywhere. I smashed the LED screen, and the electronic lock kept beeping, but the door stayed locked. Leo and I tried to destroy it by inserting the bolt cutter into a space in between. Our sweat and blood dripped onto the cement ground, and finally, we heard a crack. We widened the space in between and jerked the bolt cutter at the same time. The aluminum doorframe bent out of shape. We dashed inside.

The thick titanium frame bent, the wheels snapping off one by one, firing across the corridor like bullets. "Vivienne! Get back!" Dominic’s voice screamed from the server room. I didn't step back. I grabbed a heavy iron torque wrench from the lower shelf of the collapsing cart and jammed it horizontally between the door frame and the sliding bolt. The metal groaned. The screeching stopped. The vault door halted, stuck with a tight, three-inch gap remaining. Cold air hissed through the opening, but the heavy locking bolts were jammed. We weren't completely sealed in, but we weren't getting out through that door either.

“Good.” We unpacked together. Canned soup, bread, eggs, a ridiculous amount of fruit, and she clicked her tongue at the state of my back door lock. “That needs changing,” she declared. “I know.” “And that window in the garage,” she added, pointing as if she could see through walls. “You latch it at night?” My stomach dropped so fast it felt like missing a step on the stairs. “Yes,” I lied, too quickly. Grace’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t push. Instead, she set a jar of honey on the counter and said, casual as breathing, “Moonbrook has rules, you know.”

"Yes, Michael. I brought my laptop with me. If she answers my email, I will let you know." I start to inspect the round thing sticking out. I say out loud; "It looks like something has pushed this round part into the door." Roman behind me asks; "Why?" "It looks like it is a way of sealing the door. It could maybe be a lock of some kind." I take out the pliers and clamp the round part. Using the rubber hammer, I hit the pliers to see if I could move the round piece out of the frame. I shift my weight off the flat part of the rock, and suddenly the round bar disappears. I put my feet back on the flat rock, and I hear the click sound again, and the three-round parts has reappeared again. With

I followed Claire down the central corridor, past a glass-walled conference room where three people sat around a table covered in documents, past a row of closed doors with no nameplates, past a wall of windows that looked out over the city at an angle that made everything below look small and very far away. I had read about this building. I had studied this man's professional history across fourteen pages of notes written at two in the morning. But walking through the space where he actually operated was different. Everything up here had been chosen. Every surface, every place, every degree of silence. At the end of the corridor Claire stopped in front of a door that looked identical to eve

) Marcello out of so much pent up anger, flipped a nearby chair with just his one hand, the sound resonating through out the house, is that bastard still able to move around freely to the point of taking my men?" He hissed on the speaker of the innocent metal, "Boss, it wasn't Damien. He couldn't have come back so soon with the impact he took. Abbiamo ottime ragioni per credere che un altro dei fratelli Dashkov sia riemerso nel tuo territorio. È Viktor!" (We have high reasons to believe that another one of the Dashkov brothers has resurfaced in your territory. It's Viktor)