Magical Closet Novels & Stories

I brush my teeth twice, trying to remove it, but it lingers like a memory I can't quite shake. Clean and marginally more alert, I face the wardrobe that mysteriously knows my size and style preferences. The "magic wardrobe," as I've mentally dubbed it, has been replenishing itself daily since my arrival. Each morning, fresh clothes appear—all perfectly tailored, all in colors that complement my complexion and heterochromatic eyes. It's thoughtful, intrusive, and more than a little suspicious.

I eyed magical talismans through thick cases of glass, and small satchels of various powders. Boutiques were scattered along the maze of various shops. One held ballgowns that twinkled when they caught the light, fabric sheer and vibrant in all styles and colors. There was an antique, and magical artifact store, right next to a coffee shop whose line ran halfway down the street. “I put our order in ahead of time.” Adley grinned coyly, sashaying to the front of the line.

The more I saw, the more I learned that the supernatural were more blended into our lives than we could imagine. Once we entered into the apartment, I was even more surprised to find that there was nothing that seemed ‘magical’ inside the room. There were only books and cabinets and all normal furniture that we could find everywhere. I don’t know if I was expecting a cauldron in the middle of the room or not, but this definitely wasn’t it. “You don’t need to be surprised, the cauldron’s in the closet.” I whipped around to face the red-haired witch, my eyes wide in surprise…only to have her burst out laughing.

I line them up with each other and there is a sound of deadbolts unlocking and the door swings open on its own accord. Behind the door is a large room that has many shelves full of scrolls, books, and what looks like tapestry hanging on the walls, along with herbs and other magical items witches need. In the center of the room is a large table and a podium with a massive book on it. I walk over to the book and it magically flips open to a page that reads about the Enchanted Packlands.

It was a fucking throne room compared to the pits of Malrath. And then I noticed it. The closet. Fully fucking stocked. I walked over, whistling low. “Well, well… what the fuck is this?” Black leather jackets. White tees. My favorite kind of ripped jeans. Even the damn socks were my preferred texture...not too thick, not too scratchy. “You’re telling me the magical hellhole castle knew my fashion preferences?” I said to no one. The overhead light flickered. Twice. I froze. “Well well, magic castle,” I said slowly. “Thank you very fucking much.”

While it wasn't my vibe, it was tastefully picked and obviously well taken care of. Were sex demons into interior design these days? My first stop was the closet off to the far left of the room. Parting the accordion doors, the light inside turned on, showcasing a large walk-in closet that seemed to stretch back into a mini studio complete with a circular couch and three-wide mirror. Damn, this guy had money…

I followed her line of sight to my father, “…but on him. I thought I’d been seeing red before, but that was nothing compared to this. The magic I kept locked away for four long years reared its head, thrashing and snarling like a feral beast in desperate need of blood. It sank it’s claws into the wooden door of the closet I kept it locked in, the one tucked into the furthest reaches of my mind. It gouged chunks of wood out of the door in a desperate bid to be freed. I fortified that door with everything I could. Iron bars, wooden slats, you name it. Anything to keep it from escaping, even if some sick part of me wanted just that.

"She is more of a witch than psychic. She is one of the Immortal descendants of Merlin. Her magic is very powerful.." "Madam Claire has been expecting you!" A lady in a long flowing dress and a flower crown appear as the door opened. She ushered them in with a smile. Into a warm Oxford styled home with center rugs and coffee table surrounded by black cushions all forming a cup around the fire place brimming with shifting coals. "She is right through there!" She pointed towards a marble curtain, it's string holding up glistening balls.

he commands the guards and they obey. In the end of the long aisle of Magus realm there’s a room that is made of metal and only has a small door to get in. there’s no window installed in there. Dawn once again chained up, just like what happened to her in the dungeon. a tear trailed on her cheeks when she heard the door closed. All she can see is darkness.

"In the end, it takes another twenty minutes until I’m completely closed up and ready to head home. The place is already clean since I was avoiding Harry so awkwardly earlier, but it takes a few minutes to finish counting the till, put the money in my safe which I keep locked physically and with a magic lock, much like my potion storage shelf. I’m the only one who can open it. I spoke to my co-owner about it when setting it up and he agreed that the additional safety of a magical lock was worth giving up his own access. I don’t think he even lives in town so he has no reason to be here in the first place. Lastly, I finish locking up the building.