Mystery Yellow Room Novels & Stories

I muttered, glancing this way and that down the hallway of the royal elden rooms. The tall off-orange architecture of the walls reminded me of Zeus’ temple, with its gold-rimmed wa panes and bright lighting. How much longer until the party was over? Sweat made the thick blond rattail mohawk of my hair stick irritatingly to the back of my neck. Fifty and a half rooms were searched and there still wasn't shit to find besides large pink dildos and suspicious-looking dolls with excessively wide vaginas. My eyes passed over the tall bronze wood of the locked doors before it rested on the gold name plate of one door in particular.

“Yeah, I read up on that too.” “Well, Miranda, that practice has been dead for centuries now,” Lazarus pointed out. “Most of the rooms are still dirty with blood stains so only these four are available to use.” he pointed to the four yellow doors. “So go on and pick your rooms.” They finally made it to the end of the hall where it seemed a lot cleaner and comfortable. There was a couch sitting by the window big enough for a dozen people. The chandelier hung low with beautiful crystals and gold ornaments while the walls were painted in a striking bright green colour. “Well, obviously Shelly and I must have one for ourselves,” Duran spoke while pulling Shelly in the first bedroom he saw, slamm

My mind reeled; I grimaced and hunched over, got up, and looked around at the pitch-black space. I raised my five fingers and didn't see them. Covering me is dead silence; I don't know what this secret room was designed for. But I guess it's to catch the enemies when they try to attack Ryan and the mansion. I shivered a little, groping in the dark. I want to find the way out, but I seem to be covered by four walls full of sharp nails. My finger accidentally grazed the nailed wall. I heard the blood smell and its dripping sound on the ground.

Crimson fiddles with the bunch of keys once again, the clinking of objects against each other disturbing the girl's sensitive ears. The room they are in is sterile, empty, and without color or smell. The white walls and equally white floor welcome the pair. The only thing that is certainly noticeable are the bars of the cell at the back of the room. And sitting with her knees close to her chest was Margaret's murderer. Crimson once again mutters: "Anything, call me." He closes the door. Emanuele takes two steps toward the bars, the sound of her shoes echoing through the room.

Marcus whispers, I can see how exhausted he is right now so does nick and I. "There will be no next time " I replied while trying to catch my breath. "let's get going before someone saw us" they nod. We silently made our way to the room that was in front of us, The door of the room is too big and colored with golden paint, or is it pure gold itself? And a couple of questions popped into my mind first why someone is not guarding the room and even no one was on the rest of the floors? and second What kind of trouble is waiting for us behind the door?

He deserves it, after all. He pretended to make a phone call, hiding near the men’s restroom doors. When he saw two uniformed hotel staff come out of the women’s restroom with a hotel trolley, the kind used to carry all the sheets and linens from rooms that have been emptied and he grew suspicious. These men didn’t look like the regular hotel staff. They looked more buff and were suspiciously gruff-looking, covered with all those tattoos. So when they left, he checked inside the restroom, and sure enough, Clara was gone.

We were going to find whoever worked for the monster who stole my daughter. ********* We arrived at the yellow building in no time. The scorching sun glared off the pavement, and I slid my sunglasses on as I stepped out of the car, leading the way inside with Carlos at my side and my men falling in behind us. We moved straight to the top floor, breaking into room after room without warning. But all we found were startled elderly residents. No one who looked capable of working for a man like Wolfe. “You sure this is the right place?” Carlos asked, his voice low as we stood in the empty hallway.

"Enough. I just met a sweet girl. Come, let me take you guys to check her out." As soon as the three guys left, several bodyguard-like men suddenly came out from behind a car. 'Room 888?' There was only one room on the 8th floor, so Gilbert did not have to even look for it. He came in front of the room and as soon as he opened the door with the room card, a faint musty smell wafted out of the room. He frowned and stood outside the door, not going in.

I followed Star down the long hall, past several doors until we reached a room at the end. “It’s all yours,” Star said. “I call it the yellow room.” “Well, that’s dubious,” I said as I pushed open the door. Everything in the room was an overwhelming shade of yellow. My lips parted. “You weren’t joking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much yellow in one place before.”

she said and went to arrange a bunch of fresh cut lilacs into a crystal vase. "All she said to me was that Her Grace is having an important guest coming to stay," Hannah replied. "Whoever that person is, he or she is going to be here for a long time otherwise we wouldn't have to prepare the yellow room, am I right?" It was called the yellow room for it was painted in an extremely bright Georgian yellow. The walls were filled with collections of paintings and vintage photographs of people and landscapes, all were arranged in an orderly fashion. The high ceiling had a single chandelier with a brass-colored fan. Brilliant sunlight would stream through the three arched windows that faced the mea