Door Threshold Black Novels & Stories

The intricate carvings on the handrail to the lining steps speaks of refinement. As we clicked the last step of the stairs, I was met with a set of imposing double doors, made of rich mahogany, their polished surface gleaming in the soft light. “Thorne Rocco,” I whispered to myself as I read out the name boldly written in black on the door. It was the first time I was up in this floor as we were strictly warned not to come up here. Mr.Sam knocked, and we waited for a few seconds before a deep, hoarse voice which sent shivers down my spine commanded.

Ahead, a reinforced door stood half-concealed in shadow. No markings. No visible handle. Just a smooth surface broken only by a small access panel embedded at eye level. Victor stepped forward. Pulled one of the black cards from his pocket. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look back. He slid it into the panel. A pause. The faintest sound— beep. Green light. The lock disengaged with a soft, controlled click. Damian’s eyes narrowed slightly. No alarm. No resistance. Too easy. Victor pushed the door open just enough to slip through.

It had to reflect power, therefore it had been made with an aura of power, the designers including the most darkest color: black. After a while of admiring the beautiful door, I raised my hand up and hesitated. I really did not want to go into the suite and face Alpha Derek again. I did not want that at all. Slowly, my hand lowered and dropped down beside my right hip. After about ten seconds, I raised my hand to knock again and I still did the same thing still: I hesitated just before my hand got to the door to create a sound of any sort before my hand dropped down again in defeat.

Every place took its own space and would fit together when needed. As she contemplated everything that she needed to. The doorbell rang, and she went to the door. Her brother was standing there with a box in his hands. “This is a short-range one, but it works better and won’t affect cell phones or Wi-Fi.” He pressed the button, and the lights dimmed for a second, and then he did it again when everything had reset. “Just to be sure.”

"Open the damn door and take what's yours!" The massive obsidian door didn't slide. It didn't hiss. It Melted. The metal turned to liquid slag, dripping onto the floor like black wax. From the absolute darkness of the chamber, a hand reached out and gripped the melting edge. It wasn't a human hand. It was a hand made of solid, pulsing "Void-Lead," veined with a terrifying, liquid gold that seemed to be burning from the inside out. Dante Thorne stepped out of the shadows. He had grown. He was seven feet of raw, unbridled power, his skin the color of a midnight sky over Lagos. But it was what he was carrying that made me freeze.

It did surprise her that she was just allowed to follow Ms Thorton without any escorts, but it quickly occurred to her, as they came to the bottom of the stairs, that she had no idea where they were or where the exits were. The journey through the gigantic property finally came to an end outside a set of double doors that rose up almost to the ceiling. Unlike the rest of the doors, these were made of dark wood and had intricate designs hand carved into them. The handles appeared to be made of gold and glowed proudly in the buttery sunlight.

They're important, and my bet is the person is the one we are looking for… Thryssa. As they enter, the massive steel doors begin sliding shut again, and just before they seal completely, I catch the slightest flicker of movement from the corner of my eye as someone slips into the room, melting through the narrowing gap as everyone’s attention is drawn away from the door and to the people who just stepped in. Three of the armored guards shift position, briefly blocking everyone else's view, and the new intruder, whom I suspect to be Allister Blackwaters, uses that heartbeat of concealment to slip behind a row of stacked equipment.

The large doorway was decorated in a symphony of the powerful and sophisticated hues black and gold. The messenger motioned for Trevor to follow while wearing a slick black uniform with matching gold trimmings. The seriousness of his trek into the unknown was emphasized by the echoing effect of each step he made. The black marble flooring were illuminated by soft, flickering radiance from crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling.

Carol asked with a shutter. “I’m going to the source of all this activity. If you want to leave and return to the lobby, you can.” Blake said with a smile. But before she could reply, there was a loud slamming of the door they had blocked from closing. Their only option now was to follow Blake and return through the elevator. They made their way to the last door with the basement written on top of it and whisps of Black aura emulated from the door’s cracks. When Blake opened it, there was no light shining from the room. It was only a black hole, not allowing any light to enter.

The black ebony-colored door ornate with carvings of ravens in different postures was revealed to Phil as the bookcase opened due to him pushing the button under the table. Inspecting the door, Phil noticed that it had no handles and a large bust of a raven with its beak open was the central piece of the door. Phil stared at the raven and noticed its eyes were blood-red crimson rubies. Phil tried to push the door but it did not budge even a bit, he tried taping and listening and observed that the door was metallic but at the same time wooden in nature, and the deep bass feedback helped Phil deduce that the door was heavy and at least an inch thick.