Door Crack Blocker Novels & Stories

I'm selfishly hoping that this all ends soon so she and I can have our summer free of the bullshit. I'd been trying to find a way in with no luck since the innocent looking doors were anything but. They were commercial grade steel from the looks of it, which meant our boy had something to hide. Even the windows were reinforced. Not to worry though, Mancini's tools, some of which I was carrying would take care of it. I have no problem cutting out the lock mechanism to make my way in, didn't much care if the asshole noticed that there was a big ass hole in his door when he returned. But just as I was about to get to work, he came back.

“I think can hear someone walking around, but I can’t tell.” “Okay, stay where you are. Can you lock the door to the space you’re in,” the operator asks. I look at the knob on the door. No lock. “No. I can’t lock it.” “Okay, is there anything you can use to block the door to barricade it or make a door stop so the door cannot be opened?” I look around and see some boxes in the corner still from when I moved in. “I have some cardboard boxes. Would those work?”

"No keypad. No biometric scanner." "It's a blast door," Eliana rasped, wrapping her torn lab coat tighter around her shoulders. "Designed to withstand a direct bunker-buster missile. It likely seals from the inside. If the primary power grid is dead, the magnetic locks might have failed... but the hydraulic deadbolts will still be in place."

She traced the edges—no handles, no latches. Looking down, her knees felt weak. At this height, with the windows sealed and the door locked, there was no way out. Dorothea let go of her hand, stood on her tiptoes, and touched the cold electromagnetic lock above the door frame. "Mommy, the door won't open." "I know, baby." Avery knelt to check the ventilation ducts. There were fresh scratches around the edges of the grilles—someone had tampered with them recently. She stood up and surveyed this "sanctuary."

Through the wood, I could hear Claire's voice more clearly now, hoarse from shouting and smoke, calling for help that hadn't come until now. "Claire!" I shouted back, letting her know rescue was finally here. "I'm getting you out!" I didn't hesitate. The door was solid wood reinforced with metal hardware, built to protect sensitive documents from both theft and fire damage. Under normal circumstances, it would require specialized tools or systematic effort to breach. But normal circumstances didn't involve my mate trapped inside while someone tried to murder her. My wolf surged forward with protective rage. I took three steps back, aimed carefully, and kicked the door with every ounce of pow

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

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?"

I walked the aisles with a hand basket, selecting items with the same focus I used to bring to quarterly reports. A portable signal jammer that blocked cell phones and WiFi within a two hundred foot radius. New deadbolts for the front and back doors. A heavy duty lock for the study door, the kind that required a key from both sides. I added a basic toolkit, a box of screws, and a pair of work gloves that I told myself I would need for the installation.

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.