Prison Door Scarlet Letter Novels & Stories

She looked like she had been dragged through the mud. Mrs. Smith asked crossly, “What happened?” Chavonne pouted and was about to complain when I interrupted first, lowering my lashes pitifully. “Mrs. Smith, it seems everyone has misunderstood the contents of our conversation yesterday. I still don’t know why you suddenly singled me out, but like you said, the girl in the photo has a mole on her neck, and I don’t. “You’ll bear witness for me, won’t you? Surely you won’t side with Chavonne just because she’s your daughter.”

Father McMullen knelt before the altar, his hands trembling as he clasped the rosary, praying for clarity. And also, he had to admit, praying for protection. His mind still flashed images of that girl, Scarlet, brought here by her mother so many days before, of that moment when even here, in this holy place, every window shattered. The father glanced up and looked all around, as if wondering if it had really happened—and he felt a sinking pit in his stomach as he was given the stark reminder, the former windows now boarded up with plywood.

The steel door shuddered on its hinges. Scarlett’s head snapped toward it. Another impact. Harder. Concrete dust rained from the ceiling. Piper’s heart slammed against her ribs. The wolfbane still caged her wolf, she could feel the barrier but instinct roared anyway. A third hit. Metal screamed. Scarlett’s composure fractured for the first time. “That’s not possible,” she muttered. The fourth strike split the locking mechanism clean through. The door buckled inward. Light from the hallway sliced into the darkness,

She just turned and walked out, boots echoing against the cold stone floor while the elders whispered behind her like vultures arguing over a corpse that refused to die. The moment the heavy doors slammed shut behind her, Scarlet sucked in a sharp breath. Her hands were shaking. “What the fuck was that?” she muttered under her breath. Her wolf stirred uneasily. “Something changed, and someone powerful intervened.” Scarlet’s chest tightened as she stepped outside into the grey daylight. The lockdown pit loomed behind her like a beast that hadn’t finished chewing. She rubbed her temples, questions slamming into her skull one after another. How the hell do I prove my innocence?

There’d be a lot of questioning—and she didn’t have any answers. Scarlet finally reached the end of what felt like the longest hall in the school, came to the last door, and grabbed the knob. She braced herself and took a deep breath, clutching her books in one hand, and opened it. “The algorithm for a triangle that does not exceed—”

Across her back, two interlinked circles—⚯. They glowed for a heartbeat, casting eerie shadows on the mud walls, before fading into the brown of her skin, leaving behind only the faint, raised ridges of a scar. “Abomination,” someone whispered in the shadows. “Silence!” The voice came from the doorway. The crowd outside parted, bowing their heads in fear and reverence. Even young Baraka bowed, peeking through the rain.

Scarlet did not sleep. She lay on her couch long after Alton and Darren left, long after the building settled back into its usual nighttime groan. The silence felt heavier than noise ever had. Every creak of the pipes, every distant siren made her heart jolt, her mind replaying the image of him standing at her door, lifting her up to her dining table, his breath on her bare skin. Lock your door, Scarlet. Next time, I may not knock.

We were all laughing and sharing embarrassing childhood stories as we got out of the car when we spotted a huge banner on the main door that made us all stop dead in our tracks, losing our smiles in the flash of an eye. Scarlett seemed the most terrified by the words written in blood, she clung to the pillar and her eyes went dead with darkness as we all read the threat staring back at us. I’m coming for her, boys. Sooner than you think, and nothing, I mean NOTHING, in this mother fucking world can save her from me. See you soon, losers. —L

I know he won't be involved in anyone's business yet, but his question makes the whole situation weird. "Well, your mistake ran away after hitting the bottom pit!" My god... Is he teasing me? I clearly don't understand his idea, about my situation. A moment of silence stretched between us, and I cleared my throat, remembering why I needed to keep my composure. Adam Valerian was not just some professor; he was my only chance for that crucial recommendation letter to Harvard. As I tried to gather my thoughts, my phone buzzed, and I glanced down to see Stacey’s name flash across the screen. I hesitated, unsure whether to answer with Professor Valerian standing so close.

Scarlett The packhouse cells were filled with a chilling silence as I made my way back to Rebecca’s cell. My steps were deliberate, my intentions clear and focused. Finn’s protective instincts had been subdued, but my desire for revenge was sharp and exact. I unlocked the cell door with deliberate movements. Rebecca’s screams echoed off the cold, unyielding walls of her cell, creating a symphony of anguish in my ears. She was shackled to a chair in the center of the damp room, her frail body trembling. Her once haughty demeanor had vanished, replaced by raw, unfiltered fear. It was a poetic sight to see the predator become the prey.