Door Threshold Black Novels & Stories

Still, I could feel the presence of whatever I'd stepped on. I looked down and saw a small black object on my floor, partially hidden in the shadows near my front door. My eyebrows pinched together with curiosity as I crouched down to get a closer look, my heart already starting to race with a mixture of dread and recognition. It was a chess piece, carved from what looked like expensive black wood, the details of a knight clearly visible even in the dim light coming through my windows. A black knight.

“That’s the spirit.” The vault entrance was nearly lost beneath a snarl of vines, roots, and years of decay. Nature had tried to erase it. But the earth couldn’t quite smother Thorne’s legacy. Black steel reinforced the door, its surface etched with runes that flickered faintly in the torchlight. I pressed my palm against the central sigil and the runes flared, unlocking with a sound like grinding bone. The steel slab groaned open, revealing a staircase descending into pitch-black silence.

He stepped over the threshold into the dark. The heavy steel doors slammed shut behind him, sealing the stairwell with a booming metallic thud that rattled my quartz shell.

Taking a deep breath, I dropped the door handle, pushing it slowly to reveal the even more lavishly decorated room. Rather than regular chairs, the ones here were replaced with comfy cushions and sofas. Settling into one of the sofas, it didn't take long for the door handle to twitch, and the right leg of a Tom Ford Men's Jack Burnished Leather Loafers announced its presence first. I knew without being told that it was no other person, but, Garvin.

"If we stand in the Vantablack, we look like rulers." We reached the heavy obsidian doors. They were locked from the inside. Ashren didn't wait for a key. He stepped forward, placed a hand on the center seam, and shoved. The metal groaned, the locking mechanism sheared off with a loud crack, and the doors swung open. We stepped into the Vantablack.

"Nic?" "I'm fine," she muttered. But she wasn’t. The darkness wasn’t just stirring anymore. It was waiting. Dean pressed his weight against the stone, testing it. For a moment, nothing happened. Then -a deep, grinding noise rumbled through the ruins. The sigil on the door glowed. Not gold. Not white. Black. Like ink bleeding through water. Nicola’s breath caught. Then, the door swung open. Cold. The passage beyond the door was cold.

We drew closer and closer to the picturesque structure that could only be seen in Architect’s Digest until we were in front of three polished stairs that led to the black front door. The door had to be a solid 4 meters long from the floor, and the handle was a metallic 3-meter rod. I sighed before walking up the stairs and then rang a bell. But really, who needed the bell with a house like this? At this point, I would not be surprised if a humanoid Siri opened the door and started greeting me. After a long while, the sound of footsteps came from the inside, and the shadow flicked across the glass lining the door before it was ripped open to reveal Royal dressed in a white muscle vest and bla

He raised his right palm as he took a step forward. As he pressed it against the doors smooth nearly undetectable panel a dim blue light illuminated the area beneath his skin. The huge door started to silently slide into the wall revealing a wide pitch-black void beyond followed by a low hiss a series of muted clicks and a gentle whirring sound. He gestured for me to approach, his gaze focused on the shadows. Despite the fact that my legs felt like lead I pushed myself forward with shaky steps. A gasp escaped my lips as soon as I crossed the threshold.

Liora whispered in horror. "Project Chimera," Mavric muttered. "Arthur always claimed he was a business visionary, but turns out he was a madman funding illegal experiments with Thorne money." They arrived at a thick steel door with a small window layered with bulletproof glass. Written above it were the words: SUBJECT 0: THE BLACK ROSE. Liora inserted the ancient key into the lock. With a hiss of releasing air pressure, the door swung open. Inside, dim blue lights flickered on automatically.

The heavy front door opened before we even reached it. And there he was. Damon Blackthorn was leaning against the doorframe as if he owned the entire mountain. He was taller than I expected, with broad shoulders forcing curves against a black t-shirt and dark jeans resting low on his hips. Tousled black hair fell over piercing silver-gray eyes that were fixated on me. His sharp jawline and full lips made my stomach tighten in a way I didn’t want to think about too much. I felt heat crawl up my neck.