Red Door Yellow Door Deaths Novels & Stories

She smiled and said, "Even if I die, I will make sure you die with me." She started moving and headed toward the Great Elder. The Great Elder giggled and continued to use the pillar for his escape. Elsewhere in the secret tunnel. Darryl continued to walk forward after making a turn. He looked for where Amie had dashed out from. As he expected, he saw a secret door. He opened a small gap and peeked where he saw the Fifth Elder had died tragically in a pool of blood. At first, he was stunned. Later, he could not help and sigh grudgingly.

Bringing each of their weapons, they went out of the room and decided to ride the elevator down to see what’s going on in the other floors. They paused and froze in their steps when the elevator door opened. The elevator walls and floors had been painted with blood. It won’t take a genius to be able to tell what transpired here. “The hunt has begun.” Yekaterina muttered in a low, breathy voice. The stench of blood is so strong as they stepped inside the elevator. Yekaterina pressed the ground floor and in just a matter of minutes, the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

He was wearing his grim reaper cloack and a formal attire underneath. Shane's ears burned bright red while staring at Mara's mismatched eyes. He secretly pinched himself. "Knock! Knock!" He said and Mara chuckled. "Who's there?" She said. She knows about this modern joke. Shane's face burned brighter. He didn't mean it as a joke. He flicked Mara's forehead and then leaned closer to her. "It's Death, on your doorstep," He said and then planted a kiss on her forehead. "It's Death, on your doorstep, who?" Mara asked.

Her body was weak and trembling and her skin had red patches that were loosely covered by the sheer fabric of her white dress. The raggedy door screeched painfully as it opened and behind it was yet another- thicker and steadier- door in metal. The key entered into the three different locks and with each was a new sound that made me flinch when Lady Hale turned it each time. Rotting flesh and tear inducing odors were left behind when the door slowly pushed open to reveal the rest of the house. The part where the men gathered. Red colored walls and golden linings that painted on the candelabras while the fire roared in the pit. The ambrosial smell nearly had me falling voer, it wasn’t at all

What are the odds of that being random? Too damn slim. Two mothers. Two deaths. Same day. Same silence afterward. Something about this doesn't sit right. There's a connection. And I sure as hell was going to find it.

A husband, a wife and their only son. Colours, black and white. It was all black and white. Black and white meant death. So only two things held colour. Only two living things in the painting. Himself, and the fire. Ashleigh left Damien to himself for a few minutes. She knew the healing was not up to her but up to him. She was looking at some of the other awareness posters and some paintings around. After a while Damien approached her. "Ready to try again?" she asked him. "Yeah."

[Gia's POV] As Death pulled the lever, the sound of grinding mechanisms filled the air as several doors were unlocked and revealed hidden chambers scattered throughout the room. Each door was a different size and shape, some adorned with intricate carvings while others were plain and worn. The doors all led to dark, foreboding tunnels and halls, leading to unknown destinations. The chamber doors opened one by one, revealing dark, hooded figures emerging into the room. The reapers were cloaked in black, their faces hidden in shadow.

Darker. It was for my own selfish interests. Most of the doors were the usual colors. Soft blues for peaceful dreams, gentle greens for nature-inspired fantasies, warm yellows for happy memories. Some pulsed with brighter light, indicating particularly vivid dreams. Others were darker, showing the troubles their dreamers were processing. But one door caught my attention immediately. It was bright red. Not the soft red of roses or the warm red of sunset, but the harsh, violent red of fresh blood. The door pulsed like a heartbeat, and I could feel waves of guilt radiating from it even from across the cloudy space.

Deep down, he already knew what was in there. He should have reviewed the patrol team's preliminary report immediately, but he was afraid. Chris looked at him for a long, long time—so long that Connor was almost driven mad by Chris' silence and the grief in his eyes. Then, Connor walked into the warehouse. In the days since my death, I had longed countless times for Connor to discover what had happened to me. But now that the moment had finally come, I suddenly felt afraid. A glaring outline of a distorted, incomplete body was drawn in white chalk on the warehouse floor. Vast, dark brown stains had soaked deep into the concrete. That was my blood, dried and re-wet so many times it formed hor

"The last thing we need is for you to catch a chill." He then closed the bedroom door on her, but instead of leaving the villa, he headed down the stairs leading to the basement. Was he finally going to confirm the truth? When Toby mustered up the courage to open the basement door, he cursed endlessly upon realizing that the decomposing corpses were filling the room with a horrendous stench. He retched continuously as he complained, "What exactly are you pulling, Joyce? I'm giving you one last chance! If you still refuse to come out, I'm really going to be angry!"