Door Frame Lean Booktok Novels & Stories

The room has four walls and a window and a chair and me, and I have been in it for two hours and I have learned everything it has to teach me. The window faces a dead November garden with a low fence and a street beyond it where a woman walked a dog forty minutes ago and hasn't come back. The door is solid and the lock is external and the hinges are on the outside which means the door swings outward and that matters in ways I'm not ready to use yet. The ceiling is unremarkable. The floor is laminate over concrete, no give in it.

Eww don't soak it with your sweaty hands, just slip it under his door already! I kneel down carefully and start to slide the note under the door frame. Instead of slipping in easily, it jams and won't go in more than halfway. I frown, that's strange... Brushing my hair aside, I inch my head all the way to the floor and peer through the lower crease of the doorframe. The note is partially stuck under a heavy rug edged next to the door. I can't see anything beyond except I notice the room is illuminated by dimmed lights.

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.

“Fine, but do not leave my side.” Without another word, he turned to Liam and gave him a curt nod. Liam had been looking at us, but now he returned his attention to the door. He took a deep breath as he grabbed the oversized handle on the door. When he started sliding the door open, the door made a metal-on-metal grinding noise.

My dad tries to get me to leave the book, but I tell him what the rest of the paragraph said. My dad moves the panel wider open and steps through, and then when I step over the threshold the panel closes behind me and seals itself back up. I jump a little bit, as a bunch of dim lights start to turn on by themselves. The dim lights lead down a small path to another door that seems like it’s locked when dad tries to open it. However as soon as I step closer with the book, 2 circles appear, 1 on the door and another on the back of the book. I line them up with each other and there is a sound of deadbolts unlocking and the door swings open on its own accord.

As he sits on all fours coughing and choking I rush up the stairs slamming every door open. I turn the handle of the third room on the left and the door is locked. I see the glow of the fluorescent light under the door and take a deep breath before slamming my foot into the wooden door. The door flys open knocking parts of the frame into the air. The sight I see is enough to send me over the edge.

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.

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.

Slowly. Carefully. Then clicked shut. I stared at it. “No.” The lock turned by itself. Damien crossed the room and grabbed the knob. It did not move. His claws slid out. The wood groaned beneath his grip, but the door held. A low creak moved through the walls. Not random. Not settling. Laughter. The house was laughing. My fingers tightened around the journal until the leather bent. “Open it,” I said. Damien looked over his shoulder. “I’m trying.”

The slide of a heavy metal deadbolt unlocking. The brass doorknob turned. The door slowly pulled open.