Invisible Hinge Door Novels & Stories

The right wing of the house, although clean and well-groomed, appears to be hardly ever used. Renee looked to the left and found a large golden door, curiously she opened the door handle. It seemed hard and stuck, but then after Renee's few tries, the door opened with a little difficulty, with a creaking sound due to the hinges that had not been oiled for a long time.

He didn't want to kill an innocent man or possibly—people. They all stopped at the entrance to the cabin, waiting for the man to open it up. Bringing out a key from a hidden place behind the window sill next to the entrance door, he brought out a key and inserted it into the keyhole. A 'click' sound was heard, accompanied by the creaking sound of an ancient wooden door being opened. The door needed some oil in its hinges, Calhoun thought.

It looks meek and harmless on the outside, but even his friends who could not hear the strange noise could feel a strange form of energy coming from it. “Are we supposed to go there,” Don asked. “It’s probably an old cupboard,” Alice added. “Funny, the Principal didn’t say anything about this,” Kirsten said suddenly. “Let’s see what’s behind this door,” said Van. Finally he will get to see what secret this door conceals. With shaking hand, he seizes the knob and swings the door open. And what they found startles them.

It didn’t move. I frowned harder and ran my fingers lightly along the edges instead. That was when I felt it. A tiny protrusion near the side. Slightly bent. Old. A hinge. My pulse sharpened. I slipped my index finger carefully into the narrow space between the wall and the mirror frame and felt around. There. Two small pressure points. One on each side. I pressed them at the same time. A click sounded from inside the wall and the mirror shifted. Then it opened slightly on one side like a narrow concealed door.

Haley crossed to the door and began examining the hinges, how the two swinging pieces were attached. "They made sure to tell me this bar that the doors attach to is anchored into the foundation." "But what about the hinges? The screws? Bolts? One weak point could change everything." She was aware of Konstantin at her back while she went over the doors. They weren't cheaply made, which was a disappointment. The bars were as thick as her thumb, so not likely to bend, and she doubted they'd be able to break them. And there were no hinges. The post went through holes formed into the gates.

My hands are bleeding by the time I pry it loose, but I don't care. I wedge the board against the bottom hinge and throw my full weight against it. The rusted metal groans but holds. Again. And again. On the fourth attempt, the hinge pin pops free. I work frantically on the top hinge, sweat mixing with blood on my hands. The container feels smaller with each passing second, the air thinner. Finally, the second hinge gives way. I push against the door from the inside. It shifts slightly—enough for me to squeeze my fingers through and work it open wider.

It was a security flaw he had exploited a dozen times in his youth. He pulled a small pry bar from his belt. He jammed it behind the top hinge. He put his weight into it. Creak. The metal groaned. The pin popped out. He repeated the process for the bottom hinge. He pulled the heavy door open from the hinge side. It swung out awkwardly. He slipped inside. The air smelled of sterile cardboard and medicine. It was warmer here. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and clamped it between his teeth. The beam cut through the darkness.

On close inspection, the door was made of thick, sturdy metal, likely steel. The door's surface was covered with a complex security system featuring screens with intricately carved geometric patterns. The sound of button presses broke the silence in the room as the slender man began to enter secret codes to open the door. A moment later, the heavy iron door began to move independently. They could feel the rumbling vibration beneath their feet as powerful springs and high-pressure air worked together to open the door. "Enter," the man invited C as he waited at the open iron door. "Okay."

The unusual beating of her heart told her that she's barely hanging on now–rapid and heavy yet she's breathing air slowly. Eventually, she found something bulging out of the door's surface. Assuming that it must be the doorknob, she wrapped her hand above it and twisted on a counterclockwise direction. But it wasn't moving. Probably because its old and it's hinges were clogged by rust formation and dirt. She didn't gave up and again twisted it, applying more force. To her surprise, she heard it clicked. To find out if the door can be opened by now, she tried to push it. And thankfully, it really opened.

"There's a trapdoor in the cellar, Lucy. Goes down to the caves." I gulped, ignoring the raw feeling inside. "I don't like this. Come on," I stepped past him, trying the doorknob. Locked. I jostled it harder until it snapped right off. "Fuck," I muttered. Gabriel made this throaty noise, "Move, baby." I stepped to the side and watched Gabriel go right to the door hinges, ripping the metal plunger out from between the rivets. The door fell right down like it was easy. I blinked. The thought of taking out the hinges never once occurred to me.