One Dark Window Novels & Stories

I tense, my eyes drifting involuntarily towards the window, drawn by an unseen force. On the windowsill, stark against the pale moonlight, a single mariposa negra perches. Its wings not just black but glistening with an unnatural sheen under the streetlight, catching the cold, artificial glow. Not just black—skulls etched into the delicate veined patterns—a morbid work of art. Alive. Watching. Dru follows my fixed gaze, her breath catching in her throat. “Bouda. (Damn.)” ****** ***Marisol’s POV***

And a roof that defied the grey sky. House oak rest. They found it. Or maybe she had found it. Nobody moved. Because at the same time they noticed something. All the windows of the house were dark. Except for one. Up top. On the third floor. There was light. Warm. Golden. And there was a shape in the window. Too far away to see her face. But she slowly lifted her hand. Like she's been expecting her. Then she disappeared. And deep out of the interior of house oak rest sounded the sound of oneself opening door.

♠️ ETHAN♠️ The warehouse district was a ghost town at night, rusted metal and broken windows, the perfect place for secrets. We moved in silence: Caspian’s team in black tactical gear, Dre and I flanking them. Thermal drones had pinpointed heat signatures inside the old cannery building. We breached hard, flashbangs popping, doors kicked in. Shouts echoed as Caspian’s men flooded the space. Brandon had Georgia pinned against a wall, knife to her throat, eyes manic. Jamila and Francesca stood nearby, guns drawn, duffels at their feet, ready to bolt.

Black as the darkest night hair against a crisp linen pillow, brown skin against a blindingly white sheet, and tiger’s eyes burning with deliberate cruelty and triumph into hers. In horrified rejection of the imagery that had sprung into her mind, Lara Anderson shuddered violently, dimly aware that she was still in the grip of severe shock. Abruptly, she was dredged from her turmoil by the insistent shrill of the telephone in the hall. Reluctantly she answered the summons, carefully shutting the lounge door behind her so that her father was not disturbed.

she whispered gently to his consciousness. The wolf began its usual snapping and snarling, spittle dripping from its jaws and sploshing about in every direction. Its beautiful gray fur looked especially shiny and smooth today. The wolf stretched the shackles to their furthest point trying to get to Georgia but she stayed calm and slowly walked over to the screen at the other end. She punched in the override code, took one last deep breath and let it scan her left eye. She saw the red light turn green and began walking back toward the wolf. Two steps in, she heard the clicking sound and steadied her nerves. The shackles loosened and then opened.

Dark of Night Copyright 2019 Emily Goodwin Chapter One “What do you see when you look at this one?” The doctor holds up a card, showcasing an ink splotch that’s twisted and creepy, with eyes that follow you no matter where you go. I look at it, heart hammering away inside my chest. The mess of ink on the white paper reminds me of the monster that lurks in Nana and Papa’s basement, the one that tried to get Abby and Scott to go downstairs with it.

As night falls, in the center of the city, a high-class residence on the top floor has no lights on, and there is no sound and silence inside. The door handle slowly turns and a tall man walks into the room. He stands in the doorway, adjusts to the darkness inside, and then scans the room. At the corner of the floor-to-ceiling window and the wall, a woman sat quietly, draped in a blanket, leaning lifelessly against the window. Her eyes were vacant, looking out the window as if a butterfly had been made into taxidermy.

It was lucky that Reiner didn't see it. *** Reiner recoiled from the window and squeezed the bridge of his nose with force. The picture of the cute cooing couple was permanently imprinted on the back of his eyelids, and there was no way to erase it. He barely resisted the urge to fly out of the house and drink the rotten insides of Palm to the bottom. With one gulp. Or not. Better little by little to prolong the agony of the dark at least until the morning. But something made Reiner stay where he was and watch this performance to the end. Soul-eating doubts left an indelible mark on her, and he succumbed. Will the Dark World repel? How will he react? Or maybe they spend every evening like th

Elegance wrapped around danger. I feel his attention shift—just for a second—from the room to me. The look in his eyes changes. Not hunger. Not yet. Something deeper. Something that’s been waiting. The sound hits before I can name it. A sharp crack—too clean, too violent to be part of the club. Stone chips against glass. The window to the side splinters, spiderwebbing outward with a sound that turns my blood cold. Then darkness. The lights cut out all at once.

I am trapped. The door opens. A figure steps into the room. Tall. Wearing dark clothes. A hood covers their face. I cannot see anything except the outline of their body and the glint of something in their hand. A knife. "Please," I whisper. "Please do not—" The figure moves toward me. I scream. --- The window explodes. Glass shatters everywhere. Moonlight floods the room. And through the broken window, a second figure crashes inside. Larger than the first. Faster. Dark hair. Gray eyes burning with fury.