Door Threshold Black Novels & Stories

In the very center of the concrete floor sat the entrance to the subterranean vault: a heavy, sloping steel ramp leading down to a massive, circular blast door that looked like it belonged on a nuclear submarine. Beside the door was a heavy biometric scanning terminal, its red LED screen blinking lazily in the dark. ACCESS DENIED. DUAL-COMMAND OVERRIDE REQUIRED. "Class-A titanium-tungsten alloy," Jabari muttered, running a hand over the cold, flawless surface of the blast door. "Two feet thick. Even with my armor, punching this would be like punching a mountain. We can't break it." "We don't need to break it," Baraka said, stepping up to the massive circular door. "We just need to change the

“Still sure?” I nodded. Last door. She swiped the card. The room beyond was massive—easily forty by sixty feet. Blackout curtains covered every wall and window. The floor was covered in thick black mats, several large mattresses scattered like islands. Chains hung from the ceiling in multiple spots. A padded bench with straps, a sling, a pillory. Tables lined one wall: industrial-sized lube bottles, stacks of towels, boxes of condoms, a small fridge with water and electrolyte drinks. Overhead, dim red emergency strips glowed just enough to outline shapes.

“As long as I leave with you.” Adrian brought her fingers to his lips. “Then you will.” The Tower's Welcome The Black Tower stood like a monolith on the outskirts of Geneva, smooth, obsidian, and windowless, as if it had been cut from the night itself. From the outside, it was simply the headquarters of “Ashford International Holdings,” an innocuous shell masking a fortress of secrets. Adrian scanned his biometric signature at the entrance. The retinal scanner blinked green, and the doors slid open with a hiss.

She takes my hand and pulls me through the door and into the darkness beyond. I mean it literally. Beyond the door it is pitch black until she opens another door. We step into a hallway with multiple doors. Black carpet covers the floor and helps make the purple walls pop. I’m thinking that these are strange colors for an auction house, but I guess I’m not the owner, so I shouldn’t judge. We don’t stop until we come to a wide doorway closed off by black curtains.

There is some steam evaporating as I look at it. The way is paved with limestones. It's not slippery which is good. The grass was trimmed and most of the trees were pruned as well. I immediately opened the huge door. I tried pushing and pulling but it won't budge. I found out, it was a sliding door made of black oak.

“I wasn't stari-” “Yes you were.” His stupid smirk was pure provocation. “Shut up.” I escaped down the hall, muttering under my breath but stopped mid step when something caught my eye. A door. Not your normal door, to be fair this isn't your normal house either. But this doke was different. Heavy steel instead of sleek wood which was reinforced with thick bolts. It was matte black like it had been designed for a bunker and it was locked. Curiosity kills the cat.

The grates rolled back, and he stormed down the hallway toward the Alpha’s Shadow Chamber, my boots scrambling across the carpet to keep pace with his frantic stride. When we reached the massive timber doors, Abbott didn't wait for a formal summons, striking the oak with three hard, rapid raps. “Enter,” a deep, gravelly baritone roared from within. Abbott threw the heavy wood open... He marched into the private den with my shadow following right on his heels. Kaelen Blackthorne was leaning against his grand oak desk, a heavy pack-phone pressed to his ear, his large left hand gesturing sharply for us to keep our snouts shut while his voice growled into the receiver.

He wrapped his bloody fingers around the silver band, and twisted it clockwise. For a terrifying second, absolutely nothing happened. Then, a deep, resonating THUMB vibrated through the floorboards, so powerful it shook the dust from the cavern ceiling. A line of pale, sickly green light flared to life around the edges of the titanium door as the ancient elemental wards recognized the bone and the Blackwood blood accepted the command. With a heavy, mechanical groan of depressurizing air, the massive Vault door slowly hissed open, spilling a cold, stale darkness out into the tunnel.

"This far in the game--there's only two places you can go. Neither of which will free you from Iridian." "Is this my second option?" I asked, referring to the near-black wood. It was smooth to the touch, and the notches on the trim were carved with detailed precision. I was surprised to see a dark shimmer within the wood, which made the door shine beautifully under the light. If I hadn't felt the wood with my hand, I would have thought the door was carved from stone. Silver lined the top and bottom, and at the center sat one of those old-fashioned door knockers.

Literally. I open my eyes to the surrounding darkness—three spotlights come on, illuminating one unique door each. On the left stands one made of stone, intricate designs carved in its rusted metallic frame. A light blue one stands with snow covering its edges and pilling at the bottom to the right. The one I face, the middle door, is made of dark brown wood with little glass windows all around, providing an insight into what's behind it—green vegetation dancing with the wind, possibly a forest. Claw marks are imprinted in its center.