Lock Shock And Barrel Novels & Stories

"He only took off one lock. Maybe you should ask what's going on? To be honest, I've been driving ambulances for over ten years, and this is the first time I've seen anything like this." My gaze had just landed on Jake when he grinned at me. "I forgot to mention earlier, Mitch. It's 200 dollars per clamp. There are four clamps here, so you didn't pay enough." My anger instantly flared up. I jumped out of the ambulance and stormed over to him. "Have you lost your mind? 200 dollars per lock? Why don't you just go rob people instead? If something happens to Mom, I won't let you off the hook! Hurry up and unlock them now!"

he asks the cutter. "It'll take as long as it takes." A thin glowing line traces an outline of the lock, leaving strings of light dancing across the vision of anyone glancing that way. "There she goes," Flicking off the gas, he puts down his torch. He swings a lump hammer up against a rough circle of plate with a clang. Another blow, and the bars loosen and slide from their sockets, falling with an echoing clatter to the floor. Light shines through the hole, dim and dour, but light nonetheless. Murmurs and muttered voices carry through.

were in sync and worked as a team like they have been doing it for years. Every bullet they fired were kill shots. Lynn had throwing stars that she rotated between that and her gun they all had cross bows on their backs with the bows strapped to their wolf. Although Shadow didn’t need help he was ripping necks out on the first attack which he was able to do since he didn’t have to worry about getting attacked from behind because Shawna was handing out head shots from all around her she was so confident that she didn’t even bother to check to make sure her target was down. We made it to the east side of the house where an emergency door was located it was locked. “S*** it’s locked, and mo

I freeze. The clerk unlocks the glass and pulls out a small, polished piece of medical-grade steel. It has a thick base ring and a small, restrictive cage attached to the front by a hinge. It has a tiny padlock resting next to it. It looks like a medieval torture device. "Kir, no," I say immediately, even though my cock is now pushing hard against my zipper and my breaths are coming faster than they should. The shop assistant ignores me completely, which is incredibly rude.

The lock was flimsy, more for show than security, and it gave way with a simple click. Her breath caught. Good lord. Neatly arranged on a bed of black velvet lay a collection of items she had never, not in a million years, associated with Barbara and Mark. Silken ropes, a black leather blindfold, several vibrators of varying size and apparent intensity, a gleaming silver butt plug, a soft-looking feather tickler, and other, more intimidating implements she couldn’t name. Her face flushed with a heat that was part shock, part voyeuristic thrill. Her prim, perfectly-coiffed mother-in-law… and Mark, the stoic, retired accountant… into this?

It could not have just been to tease him. "This lock," said Arthur from his wheelchair, his voice steady, "is the Barrowbay Thousand Mechanism Burst, a relic of a lock that's almost extinct. If you try to force it open, the trap triggers, and poof—everything inside turns to ash." Alexander eyed the group who had stumbled upon the chest. "Got a key?" "Nope." Their faces fell at Arthur's revelation, realizing they might have unearthed a dud instead of treasure. The last thing they wanted was to lose the cash they were after.

Locking itself. From the outside.

A thick padlock held the main door shut. Jason and Teddy went straight to work on prying the lock open. Jason clenched his teeth, his hands rock steady as he manipulated the mechanism, while Teddy placed pressure with a crowbar. Rick, on the other hand, had the assistant boss in a grip of steel. Just as the lock snapped loudly, we all stood stock still for a moment, holding our breaths to see if anyone had heard us break in. There was a strained silence that hung about us. "Run!" Rick whispered.

I grabbed it and rushed back inside. “Lucien—” Calla's eyes widened as she noticed what I was about to do but I didn't stop. I knelt before the lock of the iron bars. It was maybe and ugly, wrapped with wolfsbane. The wolfsbane was not strong enough to choke the air and affect our breathing but it was strong enough to burn anyone that came in contact with the lock. I held the lock and drove the iron right into it. Immediately, fire exploded through my palm.

"They’re not collectors, Roderick. They’re thugs. They’ll tear the place apart just for the sport of it." Roderick ignored him. He was scanning the perimeter of the room, his eyes assessing every weak point, every stray pipe, every piece of debris that could be weaponized. He grabbed a heavy metal crowbar from the floor and wedged it against the bottom of the door frame, bracing it against a structural joist. It was a simple, ingenious makeshift barricade.