Nine Light Door Novels & Stories

The middle door leads them to nine walled mirror rooms; Aaron tried to stick to Mrtyu, who had been ignoring him lately. “Mrt., why are you avoiding me?” “Six walls, three doors; nine walls, and it mean four or five doors. We need to find the doors that lead us to exit.“ Mrtyu murmured while calculating in her mind. Aaron pulled her hands. “Answer me, Mrt?“ “What are you doing? Leave my hands.” Mrtyu tried to show her cold shoulder to him to cover up the fact that she had embraced him, which she felt embarrassed about.

She didn't wait for a second thought; she headed straight for the elevator, the numbers climbing until the doors opened onto the ninth floor. She walked down the quiet corridor, her sneakers silent on the plush carpet. As she reached the door of room 901, she heard it—the heavy, rhythmic sounds of stroking and the unmistakable moans of a man in the throes of passion. The door wasn't fully latched, leaving a sliver of the room visible.

That is the aspect of his nature that I find difficult to deal with as his guardian. I locked my gaze on the massive double doors. It has dragons carved on it. Before entering, I knocked. Someone pushed the door open for me. Mr. Red, the butler at Master Dryzen Mansion. He is one of my late grandfather friends and serves Master Dryzen for a long period of time.

The game horn screamed again—final warning. He turned and walked to his door. Mine was number nine. I stood with my hand on the handle and the beginning of his sentence already under my skin, living there, impossible to unfeel.

The basement air was stale, smelling of mold and old wine. Park, limping and flanked by Min and Baek, led them to a heavy steel door behind the wine racks. There was a keypad. "Open it," Min ordered, pressing the gun to Park’s spine. Park punched in the code. 7-7-1-9. The heavy bolts retracted with a groan, and then the door swung open. Min’s heart was in his throat. This was it. The end of the nightmare.

the bedroom door opened without a knock. Both of them walked in. Elias-1 carried two mugs of coffee. Nine carried the pomegranate from the hallway floor, now washed clean, seeds glistening like tiny rubies in a bowl. They moved like they’d rehearsed it, one on each side of the bed. Elias-1 set a mug on her nightstand. Nine placed the bowl in her lap. “We made a deal,” Elias-1 said, voice gravel-rough from exhaustion. Nine finished, “No fighting. No forcing you to choose. Not yet.”

I followed Claire down the central corridor, past a glass-walled conference room where three people sat around a table covered in documents, past a row of closed doors with no nameplates, past a wall of windows that looked out over the city at an angle that made everything below look small and very far away. I had read about this building. I had studied this man's professional history across fourteen pages of notes written at two in the morning. But walking through the space where he actually operated was different. Everything up here had been chosen. Every surface, every place, every degree of silence. At the end of the corridor Claire stopped in front of a door that looked identical to eve

“There’s a supermarket and a few restaurants downstairs. The subway station is about a five-minute walk to the right. If you need anything, contact me anytime.” “Thank you, Cecilia.” “Don’t thank me too quickly.” She walked to the door before turning back around. “The Anderson family doesn’t keep useless people around. The value of what you brought depends on what value you can create for us next.” After the door closed, the room fell silent. I stood by the window and looked at the scattered ship lights across the ocean in the distance. Suddenly, I had a sense of unreality. Just over ten hours ago, I had still been trapped inside that gilded cage in Corholt, ordered around by a man who treat

"Which room are you in?" "I'm in the hallway. Same as you. I can see the numbers. 901, 903, 905—wait." A pause. "Your numbers are different." "What do you mean?" "Your side says 910. My side says 910 too. But the numbers on the other doors… they're backward. Like a mirror. 901 is 109. 903 is 304." Another pause. "Oh god, I think I'm inside the mural." That stopped my breath. The mural. The endless staircase. The artist who had painted himself into a corner he couldn't escape.

I walked to it, opening it to peak in, seeing that it was a bedroom and it could only belong to one person but I was not there for that. I closed it and walked back. Another door was at the far end of his room. I continued walking. The door was opened wide only to find it being a bed room too. I sighed, knowing the king had an office. It was impossible that he did not have one and it would be nearby. There were no more doors. I rushed to the travelling machine to press the button down. I got in, looking at the numbers. I was in floor ten so I went for the number nine. The doors closed, it going down for just a second before stopping and the doors opening. No one had to tell me as I went out