One Dark Window Novels & Stories

I shift forward, eyes narrowing. Through the window, I can see the faint outline of a crib. Ariana’s shadow moves back and forth, slow, rhythmic, soothing. She’s singing. I can’t hear the words, but I know the melody. I press my hand against the cold windowpane of the car, fingers trembling. Something inside me twists tighter, darker. The glass fogs under my breath. I draw a line through it, just one, like I’m cutting the night in half. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” I murmur.

Chapter 1: Dysfunctional family. The darkness is nothing more than a test that God gives us, many times to overcome things and learn from it, but in the end we all carry that darkness in our hearts, we just have to decide whether to expel it or let it dwell within you. Charlotte is a girl who has been in the dark since she was born, her parents were shitty to her, she was beaten and mistreated unjustifiably simply because her parents wanted it that way, but to understand a little of this story we must return to the past.

She gasped when the door was closed and she was left alone with a deranged man. Realizing her presence in the room, he got up from his sitting position, sauntered towards the window and tucked away the curtains so the bright moonlight could lit the room. That was when she was able to make out his dark room. But more than that, her eyes already laid on his dark silhouette that stood near the window. He stood parallel to the window so only half of his face could be seen and half was darkened by shadow. In his hand, she saw a bottle. A green bottle.

He opened his curtain and stared at the light pouring from the windows opposite to his. He blinked, stared, and blinked again. The windows opposite to him was always dark, but it wasn't anymore, and he hated the new intruders in there. He hated that the darkness was now lit with light. That window, which had always been stayed closed for over a decade and some, opened and a shadowy figure was now leaning against it. He couldn't see her face clearly, but she looked so lost in the night, so alone. The pale bend of her neck curved as she looked up at the moon, as if she was wishing to fly away.

Every future disappeared. Every star outside the observatory went dark. The room plunged into blackness. Complete. Absolute. Luke couldn't even see his own hands. Then— A single window appeared in front of him. Just one. Floating in the darkness. A rectangular pane of light. On the other side— The Last Lighthouse. Closer than ever before. Close enough to see individual stones. Close enough to see the windows. Close enough to see— Someone standing inside. Watching him. Alone. The figure slowly stepped closer to the glass.

two heartbeats, maybe three but long enough for Sloane to catch the flare of something wild and dark and utterly uncontrolled in his eyes before it shuttered closed again, smoothed instantly back into blank professionalism. Later, when Marcia left whistling cheerfully down the hall toward the elevator, Sloane found Rook standing alone in the window alcove of the dark living room, staring out at the sprawling city lights glittering far below like scattered shards of broken glass. “You want to say something?” she asked, voice light, edged with deliberate provocation.

But when Morana nodded and allowed Daniel to do what he should have done, it was at that moment that Daniel didn't hold back at all anymore. Beat after beat that made the bed under them creak, mixed with the sighs of the two of them. It is this sound that dominates the hotel room they occupy. Echoing between the bedroom walls and bouncing off the ceiling… The moonlight that penetrates in, becomes a silent witness for the two people who are pushing themselves to achieve worldly pleasures that cannot be described in words. Again and again… They did it all night… # # # The room was dark and gloomy because none of the lights were on, while the owner was holding his cellphone tightly and standing

[Killian] I don't turn on the lights. The penthouse swallows me in darkness, the city's glow bleeding through floor-to-ceiling windows like a wound that won't close. I stand at the glass, whiskey in hand, not drinking. Just holding it. The weight feels necessary somehow—something solid when everything else is shifting beneath my feet. My wolf is losing its mind.

Her scent clung to the sheets, sweet and faintly floral. After a few hours, sleep had eventually come. I stirred hours later on the bed and realised that where she lay beside me was empty. My eyes shot open. The room was quiet, shadows shifting with the faint flicker of the dying fire. Then my gaze found her by the window. The storm was still roaring outside, howling loudly. Everything outside the glass is nothing but white chaos. She stood there, completely still with my white polo draped over her body. It barely covered her thighs, and the hem lifted slightly each time the wind rattled the windowpane.

"Buying a sky penthouse for one dollar? Keep dreaming." Speechless, I pointed at the company seal on the contract. "Look carefully. This is real." But he pulled out a lighter and burned the corner of the contract. The flame shot up with a hiss. "Connor, stop acting. "Don't think a few sales achievements mean you can use the back door to buy property. "Even if the company really had a benefit like this, Lydia should be the first person to enjoy it!" I lunged forward, trying to snatch the burning contract back.