Oblivion Strange Door Novels & Stories

Sylvia asks me with a weird look on her face. "I can smell her," I say angrily. "My mate is in there." Sylvia and her mother exchange an odd look with one another. Sylvia's mother raises her hand to the door and mumbles something under her breath. The phases of the moon glow brightly and the marble of the door melts away. Behind the marble is a tiny wooden door that looks like it is being held together by magic only. The wood is splintered and cracked. Before I have a chance to barrel through the wooden door, Sylvia's mother stands in front of it and opens it. Alpha Francis and Jarek are the first to be led through the door by Sylvia and then I bring up the rear.

She dashed upstairs and caught sight of a strange door closing. "Hello?" she called down the dark corridor and approached the old oak door slowly. The lady noticed that this door seemed to be the only one on the entire floor with a strange presence. "Is there anyone here?" She keeps talking as if there is someone inside but she receives no response. The maiden carefully grabbed the doorknob and was about to open it, thinking no one else was there.

This time he took his time slower, giving himself time to sniff everything. Nothing jumped out at Joel as odd until he returned to the kitchen. There he saw a door he never noticed before. He stared at it and realized he had to concentrate to keep looking at it or his gaze would wander away from it. Joel walked up to the door and sniffed. A powerful scent of magic surrounded the door. Odd. Rose spelled the door so no one would notice it? This had to be it, Joel thought as looked up at it. Joel hopped up on his back legs and used his front paw to pull down the lever knob and open the door. It swung open, revealing a narrow, wooden staircase leading down into what looked like a pitch black bas

“Corven’s riders did not chase us toward the river by accident. They herded us here, Rhen, straight toward whatever is buried beneath this exact stretch of ground.” Dorian had gone very still, his own guardian instincts clearly stirring in answer to something none of the rest of us could feel, his eyes fixed on the ground beneath our feet as though he could see straight through the stone. “There is a door here. I do not know how nobody has ever found it before, but Kieran, there is a door right beneath our feet, and Marisol’s blood just woke it up.”

The rift in the Door of Balance grew larger with each passing day. It was no longer a tiny crack—now it was wide enough to fit a person, and its dark energy pulsed with the faint, familiar power of the Primordial Void. Cole and Lila stood guard in front of the door, the merged key floating between them, their power weaving into the door to hold the rift closed.

Though it was questionable, Harper trusted her and followed her lead. In the middle of the islet was a wooden door with ancient inscriptions. There, Grandma Laura read the strange words and automatically, the door opened, welcoming them with the smell of a garden. Harper frowned. Why are there many similar places like this in their world? Humans are too ignorant for not knowing there’s always more than what they see. Harper flinched when the door behind them closed with a loud thud. There, she looked back and the door frame vanished with golden lines and then disappeared to thin air.

Lucian’s torch cast long shadows, flickering against stone etched with symbols Evelyn couldn’t decipher. “The Door,” Lucian murmured, stopping short. It wasn’t just a metaphor. Before them stood a literal door—tall, iron, inlaid with strange mechanisms and faintly glowing lines like veins. Evelyn stepped closer, hand instinctively reaching out. The symbols stirred under her touch, pulsing faintly in sync with her heartbeat. “It’s reacting to you,” Lucian said quietly. “It’s not just a lock,” Evelyn whispered. “It’s alive.” Lucian’s eyes darkened. “And you’re the key.”

“Do you have somewhere in the house that is private?” “Mack, I think you came to the right place.” Haven laughed, and she looked at him with a smile. She took his hand and started walking to the back of the house. When he walked into the furthest room in the house, he thought something was slightly off about the room, but he couldn’t figure it out. When she walked to the sidewall, though, she moved the book on the bookshelf, and soon there was a door that was open, and she was pulling it open.

My magic curled and died in the air as if swallowed. “You can fight me,” the figure murmured. “But you cannot fight what you want.” I was shaking. “Even if you speak true… no magic can undo death.” “Not undo,” the figure whispered. “Reclaim.” My breath caught. “What are you saying?” “There is a door. Very old. Older than the school. Older than this land. A doorway to the Netherveil — the prison of lost souls. If you open it, if you master its secrets, you will see them again.”

The rooftop quieted instantly. Cal frowned. “The what?” Seraphine approached carefully through drifting lantern petals. “In the old universe… these doors appeared when someone was finally ready to face a memory they buried too deeply.” I disliked this explanation immediately. Hope looked delighted. “MAGICAL TRAUMA DOOR.” “Do not name it that.” “Too late.” The lantern tree above the door glowed brighter softly. Silver branches swaying though no wind touched them. The creator adjusted his glasses nervously. “What exactly happens if someone opens it?”