Door Knob Confessions Novels & Stories

The conference room was packed with doctors from every department, each one poised for the case review. I cleared my throat, started up the prepared PowerPoint, and began. "This case is for Jason Hamilton, male, five years old. He was first diagnosed at age three and has been on dialysis for two years now..." As I spoke, murmurs started among the crowd. I turned to the large screen behind me, realizing something was wrong. To my horror, my patient report was swapped out for a presentation called "Confession of an Affair”.

I mumbled, gently twisting and applying pressure the way I had seen him do it. Suddenly, I heard a click. Something shifted. I paused, barely breathing. I adjusted the angle and twisted a little more. There was another soft click. Oh my God. Was I doing this? Another tiny twist—and then—Click. The knob turned easily beneath my hand. My heart skipped. “Oh. My. God.” I whispered to myself, smiling in shock. I was a criminal mastermind now. I guess Allie was right. It was all in my mind. I opened the door slowly, peeking into the hallway.

"Let's hope that is help arriving, or we are going to be having blood on our hands very soon." The men tried the door to the examination room, but it didn't budge. Someone shot the door knob. The sound made Claire jump. "Oh my God, they're going to find us!"

My hand hovered on the door knob as warning bells continued ringing in my head but I shut every rational thought and turned the knob but the door didn’t open. Fuck. It was locked. My hands shook as I searched my hair for a pin and started playing with the lock. Maybe it was because I have some special gift of healing that I had this much confidence standing outside, trying to open a door that I knew inside held a dangerous beast that could tear me to shreds. I twisted the pin in the lock until I finally heard a click. Now the door was open, the only thing standing between me and the truth I could find inside this room.

When he is gone, I sit back down and open another ledger—the one that contains my own confessions, which I've written in secret for decades. I dip my pen and begin a new entry. "Tonight I told theson the truth. May God forgive me for what comes next." The bell tolls once above me, low and mournful. It always tolls for someone.

But I couldn’t Not with the photo on the table Not with his confession trapped in the air Not with the pen still between us I reached for the paper again He watched me with the kind of fear people have when they know everything could end in one second I pressed the pen down The ink touched the page Then came the knock A loud sharp knock at the door that made both of us jump Marcus turned toward it But I held his wrist “Don’t open it” I said I didn’t know why I just knew the knock didn’t feel right He looked at the door Then at me The knock came again Harder “Who is that?” he whispered I shook my head “I don’t know” The third knock wasn’t a knock It was a bang

If and when they decided to let her out of this cage, she would grab the first thing that would allow her to off herself before they caused any more harm— The bedroom doorknob gave a rattle. Dani’s teary gaze darted towards the exit. The knob twisted in place, repeatedly, as if whoever was on the other side refused to acknowledge it was locked. There were two male voices, muffled, speaking in Russian. Her chest tightened. Her ears strained to hear Alexei, but it didn’t sound like him. Could they be his allies? Or had they been Viktor’s men all along? There was a kick at the door. The knob didn’t give, but it sent Dani jumping. The men burst into laughter, and Dani stopped breathing.

Somewhere down the hall an elevator chimed and went quiet. The woman spoke first, mouth against Sloane’s ear, voice soft and certain. “Your key still works on our door. Use it tomorrow night.” The man’s hand rested heavily on Sloane’s bare thigh, a quiet confirmation. Sloane stared at the dark ceiling of the room that was not hers and felt the careful solitude of the business trip dissolve into something far more dangerous—and already non-negotiable. She did not ask their names. She already knew she would be back.

That night, in my dorm room, I wrote in my notebook by the faint light of a desk lamp: “Some doors, once opened, cannot be closed. I’ve crossed the threshold, and there is no turning back.” I closed the notebook, knowing the truth of it. We hadn’t acted on anything forbidden yet but the emotional line had shifted. The classroom was no longer the safe ground of intellectual debate. Every conversation, every glance, every shared silence had become a battlefield of desire and restraint. And neither of us was ready to retreat. The First Confession (Eve’s POV) The library was nearly empty that evening, the soft hum of fluorescent lights blending with the distant tapping of keys and murmured footf

“Well…I grabbed the first aid kit. We got in the room and Lyra checked the cell was locked. I checked if Ronan was breathing and he was. So I told Lyra to wait. I headed out of Corridor Eight and ran to my fathers room to find you. I knocked a book over and that slip of paper fell out. I was so excited about the codes I totally forgot about Lyra. I thought she was safe, Ronan was behind the bars!” With a deep, accusing growl I stepped forward. “You knew the first aid kit contained a master key?” “In the heat of the moment, who remembers such a thing! He was unconscious!" she spluttered. “Who locked the door to Corridor Eight?” “I…I…” her words failing her. I snapped darkly, aware of my wolf’