Invincible White Room 소설 & 이야기

The pitch black darkness of the Valerius penthouse was absolute. With the solid tungsten blast shields dropped over the panoramic windows and the heavy mechanical locks engaged, the sunlit sanctuary had violently transformed into an impenetrable, soundproof tomb. Victoria Cross stood completely frozen in the center of the hardwood floor. The two Volkov mercenaries frantically swept their high lumen tactical flashlights across the massive living room. The piercing white beams sliced through the dark, illuminating pristine leather furniture, marble countertops, and empty space.

“Your room is being prepared. Medical equipment. Supplies. Dr. White needs space to set up properly.” “So where—” He pushed open a door with his shoulder. His room. I recognized it immediately. The massive bed. The dark furniture. The scent of him everywhere…cedar and smoke and something indefinably Enzo. “No.” I started struggling. “No, I’m not staying in here.” “Just for tonight. Until your room is ready.” “I don’t want—” “Nina.” He set me down on the bed, gentle despite my protests. “It’s late. You’re exhausted. Dr. White needs to monitor you through the night. This room has everything she needs.”

Just me and— The lights suddenly came on and I squinted at how bright it was. When my eyes finally adjusted, my heart nearly stopped as I looked at the white walls that surrounded me. Everything in here was white. The tiles, the ceiling, the walls, everything had that one color that could make you go insane if stared at for too long. The room suddenly shook, and I glanced to the side to see that the walls were closing in on me. The most horrible thing about the white room? Your worst fears came true in here. No matter how much one tried to stay strong, this room would break them.

VALENTINA After I agreed upon helping them, Agent Vitali lead me to the room which is right beside that interrogation room. He asked me to rest and he went to talk to the seniors or whatever. Where he has locked me this time is a plain room. White room. A white bed. White sheets. White floor. White attached door. This is unbelievable. I am beginning to despise white color. I sigh out and jog toward the bed before laying down over it. I have been unconscious for a whole day and when I woke up, I was already in that interrogation room, handcuffed to the table.

To have the one person I thought I could count on here in this prison I had been put into waiting for my sentence to be put out into the open had been unknown until now. "I will give you a cup and you will bring it back full of urine, Don't try to run away you'll be too exhausted to even try that's thanks to the valerian and wolfsbane," Irma announced as she grabbed the vials of blood off the tray and placing them on a counter. I slowly walked towards the bathroom looking for a way out, any way for me to get a message to someone, any possible way that I could leave. "Hurry up in there, little one and you can go back to your room!" My cell was more like it, there was nothing in there of perso

"Anastasia, right, Anastasia is using one of the rooms." "It also stink." Why would it stink? "And Pride is sleeping in one of the rooms." Why would Pride be here? He's on a mission right now until three days from now. Don't tell me, they put everything in the red room? "If that's the case then I guess I'll see the last room instead." I looked back at Drake who's now staring at my guys. "S-sure." "What's this for?" "It's the white room. We put people there to....to...to sleep for a week."

Every breath felt like liquid silver pouring into my lungs, my muscles locking up as the heat tore through my chest. Get up, my inner wolf snarled, weak and desperate. They’re coming. Dragging myself across the tile, I slammed the heavy iron security door shut, throwing the mechanical deadlock into place. I turned the decontamination valve, letting freezing, high-pressure water drench my clothes, trying to shock my system out of the paralysis. I am Chika Whitmore. I don't break for rogue executioners. Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed outside the vault door, accompanied by a low, mocking chuckle.

vault, once a sanctuary of white glass, was now a drowning chamber. I was on my knees, my platinum wings dragging in the rising silver tide. Every breath was a battle against the "White-Void" peaking inside me. It wasn't a baby anymore; it was a supernova wrapped in a heartbeat. The frequency was so high it was stripping the color from the air, turning the cavern into a monochrome nightmare of gray shadows and blinding white light.

She reached out and yanked my arm. "Move! We don't have time. They'll kill us," she hissed, her voice tight with urgency."There's a place—I think you might remember it too." The door swung open, and we stumbled into an enormous white hall. Rows upon rows of metal tables and chairs stretched before us like a forgotten assembly line. The fluorescent lights buzzed above, too bright, almost sterile. The room was vast, echoing, institutional—like a lecture hall or indoctrination chamber. A giant white screen loomed at the front of the room. Printed on it, stark and unmistakable, was the symbol: a bold, double N.

The once-white door, now stained with blood and years of rot, was the only thing separating me from my nightmares. My fingers wrapped around the handle, the door squeaking as I twisted it and pushed it open. "Fucking hell." I hissed as I looked at the scene before me. Winston was sitting in a chair in the centre of the room, his bare tattooed chest covered in blood. His onyx hair was equally drenched in the blood of his victims. Bodies scattered around him; he truly was a thing of nightmares. Winston's eyes locked on me, nothing but murderous intent filling them as a sadistic smile etched its way across his face.