Red Light Blinking On Fire Alarm Novels & Stories

"Maybe the hotel will deliver your shoes later, I will call them now because—" They were interrupted by the blaring fire alarm. Iryna and Reynold looked around in confusion. "That is the fire alarm right?" Iryna asked. There was a frown on her face and she slowly walked to the door. "Definitely is, unless they swapped the doorbell for the siren," Reynold said. He started sniffing the air and he frowned. He smelled smoke. "Something is burning," Iryna had detected too. "We should head out now," she said.

Monday afternoon, the fire alarm went off at two forty-seven. Not the soft chime of a drill. The full blare — the kind that makes you stop mid-sentence and look up with the particular alertness of someone whose brain hasn't yet determined whether this is performance or emergency. The overhead lights began pulsing red and white. Someone down the hall swore. The announcement system clicked on with the mechanical voice that always sounded slightly judgmental about the fact that you were still in the building during an evacuation.

I said. Lucien glanced at me sharply. “Enough for what?” I shifted my weight, testing my ankle. Pain flared, bright and vicious. I swallowed it down. “Enough to make a choice.” Before Lucien could ask, the lights overhead flickered. Once. Twice. Then chaos erupted. Alarms blared. Red emergency strobes ignited, slicing the darkness into violent fragments. Shadows jumped. Figures shouted. Someone fired too early, the shot cracking loud and wild. “Now!” I shouted.

“A female alpha who’s not in the room anymore, and neither is the male alpha disguised as a gamma I saw looking at her earlier.” He looked like he were about to ask me if I were certain, then he took a phone out of his pocket and muttered something like, “System A is in place.” He put the phone back just as the lights began to flicker and an alarm rang out. He stood. “Ladies and gentlemen, that is the fire alarm. I’m sure it’s a false alarm, but please make your way to the marked exists.” People gathered their purses and phones and moved as three hotel security agents and my two bodyguards came to the platform and told me to follow them.

(Ethan Reed – POV) The alarm went off at 9:17 a.m. It was loud and scary. I was on a call when the red lights started flashing over my office walls. The fire alarm was blaring. My whole floor was in chaos. Assistants were running around. Security was yelling for people to get out. Phones were ringing nonstop. Something did not feel right. It all happened fast. It was too perfect. I said to myself "This building has the fire system in the city." I was already walking quickly to the door.

The red indicator light is no longer flickering. It burns a solid, unblinking crimson. It isn't just watching me anymore. It's transmitting.

"He gave us the black drive to satisfy Harris. He kept the silver one here so we'd have leverage if the board came back." High above us, on the roof of the house, a tiny red light began to blink. A small black box, no bigger than a brick, was resting right on the wooden shingles above the bedroom window. The red light was pulsing faster every three seconds. "It's a proximity bomb!" Martha yelled, stepping out onto the porch with her iron bar raised. "If that timer hits zero, it takes the whole top floor down!" "How much time?" I screamed, looking up at the blinking red light.

Harris’s men rushed toward us from the perimeter, shouting into radios. Leonardo turned to me. "Are you okay?" I nodded, though my legs shook. My throat burned with smoke. Harris appeared beside us. "Are you hurt?" "No," Leonardo said. "How the hell did this happen?" Harris’s face was pale. "We don’t know. The fire alarms were disabled. We didn’t see anyone on the cameras." I turned toward the burning house, dread pooling in my stomach. Liana Russo had found us again. And this time, she wasn’t leaving warnings.

The words written on the back of the index card burned into my retinas, sharp and unforgiving, and the air in the dorm room suddenly felt too thin to breathe. He can't protect you through a screen, Jules, but I can see you right now. My heart slammed against my ribs with such violent force that my vision actually swam with black spots. I slowly, agonizingly, lifted my gaze from the card to the ceiling. Right above my bed, nestled in the cheap white plastic of the smoke detector, was a tiny, faint red LED light. It was blinking.

“Now.” “What's wrong?” I asked. He gestured at the ceiling where a red light was steadily blinking. “That wasn’t there when we came in.” Evan swore, checking his device. “Security has rebooted. Someone’s hacking it.” “We’re locked in?” Jace asked. “Worse,” Evan said. “We’ve pretty much triggered every silent alarm in this building.” The power went out and we were in total darkness.