Oblivion Strange Door Novels & Stories

The path wound endlessly through fog and memory. Each step Avery took sounded hollow, as though the ground beneath her were made of glass. The air grew colder, but it wasn’t the kind of cold that bit the skin — it reached through it, settling in the bones. Ahead, the mist began to thin. A faint black outline loomed in the distance, framed by pale light: the Door. It rose higher than any structure she’d ever seen — not carved or built, but grown, like the world itself had split open and decided to never heal. Black stone, slick and pulsing faintly as if alive, stood sealed by iron bands marked with the runes of death.

Underground Crypt. Avignon. Depth: 50 Meters. The Obsidian Door stood before them like a black mirror, absorbing the red light of the flare. In the center, the needle-like depression waited. "It's thirsty," Catherine whispered from her wheelchair. She was staring at the door with a mix of reverence and terror. "The Angel demands a tithe." Harper stepped forward. She looked at her hand. She didn't hesitate. She took the small pocket knife Jack offered her. Slice. She cut her palm. A thin line of crimson appeared. She pressed her bleeding hand against the obsidian.

“What did she ever do to you, you monster?” “She wasn’t much use,” he said with a cold shrug. His tone was casual, as though discussing weather. “Then I learned she wasn’t the only one left. That you were still breathing.” Rhea’s heart thudded painfully against her ribs. Varek’s grin widened. “And unlike her… you could open the Door.” Her knuckles whitened around the branch. “Door?” she demanded hoarsely. “What door—?” “The Door for AURA.” His voice dropped into a reverent growl, his gaze darkening with obsession. “The gate to the creature that will drown this world in chaos. You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” His eyes gleamed. “In the dark of your dreams.”

Year 2002, Tina's POV. Mom was still outside urging me to open the door. She seemed normal, her tone and voice exactly the same as before she went crazy. After hearing what that young man said, I was scared to open the door. When she was about to feed me the raw beef in the afternoon, she briefly regained her senses but then went crazy again and started gnawing on the cow's carcass in the yard. Hence, I suspect she had not fully recovered. If the door was opened, she was very likely to go crazy again.

“Something’s wrong.” Kael stepped forward. “Rory—” “Do you hear that?” Thorne lifted his head. “Hear what?” I didn’t know how to explain it. It wasn’t a sound. It was pressure. Pulling me forward, into the hall, toward the stone door that had always stayed sealed. Until now. The Seer moved toward it, hand raised. Symbols blazed along the arch. “I never activated this,” she whispered. The door opened. Behind it: nothing but darkness. And in that darkness...

My vision blurred at the edges, shadows writhing like living things. Then... I broke through. Into the crypt. Not through the door. But from below. I landed softly on the cold stone floor, crouched, breath shallow. The great black door stood before me.Morwen’s trap is waiting. But I hadn’t touched the threshold. I hadn’t triggered the spell. Because I didn't come to the door. I came behind it. I stood. Slowly, I reached out. Not to open. But to touch. My fingers brushed the back of the door where no hand had ever laid, where no magic had ever been tested.

Hidden in the backmost archives, behind a long-forgotten tapestry bearing the earliest Spiral script, a stairwell descended deep into the roots of the Grove. "This isn't on any of the maps," she whispered. I stepped beside her, feeling the stone walls. The steps were smooth worn by centuries, not days. As we descended, a cold breath coiled up the passage. Not wind. Not draft. Something watching. At the bottom, we reached a plain obsidian door. No carvings. No handle. Just a sigil the same one on Tavrin's wrist. And as Seris reached toward it, the door slid open on its own.

The golden warmth rose through my arm, enveloping my hand in a faint glow. The door responded instantly— groaning, trembling, cracking around the edges as if the eclipse’s presence forced the old runes to acknowledge a new authority. Grayson tensed. “What’s happening?” “The door is recognizing imbalance,” I said. “It’s opening because the eclipse is overriding the suppression.” “Is that safe?” he asked. “No,” I said honestly. “But it’s necessary.” The door cracked open, releasing a rush of stale air that carried the scent of something sharp—

I wondered who would be living in such a place as this. Then it occurred to me to knock and enter any of the doors. Perhaps there is a room that could provide a means of shelter for me from these minions. I could enter and lock the door, giving me the time I need to rest and heal. So I opened one of the doors. It was not locked and I realised something strange. The door didn’t lead to a room. It led to a passageway and darker than the one I was coming from. The minions were closing in.

They plunged deeper into the forest, their hearts pounding with fear. As they ran, the hum grew louder until it was almost deafening. The air grew thick with electricity, and the mist grew thicker still. Suddenly, Ava stopped again, her eyes fixed on something ahead. Eddie and Millie followed her gaze, and their hearts skipped a beat. In front of them stood a massive stone door adorned with intricate carvings of twisted vines and leaves. The door was covered in symbols that seemed to pulse with a dark energy. Ava's eyes locked onto theirs. "This is the only way out," she said. "We have to go through this door."