Seeing Around Corners Novels & Stories

Modern. Minimal decorations. Too empty. Lucas stepped out. Closed the door behind him quietly. His eyes moved slowly. Taking everything in. Cameras. Hidden. But not hidden enough. Corners. Angles. Exit points. His instincts kicked in immediately. “This place is secured,” he muttered. He started walking. Slowly. Every step was silent. Controlled. He passed one door. Then another. Voices echoed faintly from somewhere ahead. Lucas paused near a corner. Leaned slightly.

I turned around slowly, scanning the hallway, my eyes darting instinctively to the corners, the benches, the doors. Nothing. “Amber?” I called. My voice echoed back at me, unanswered. A cold wave of panic washed over me. “Amber!” I called again, louder this time. People glanced at me curiously as they passed, but none of them slowed. None of them stopped. My pulse started racing, loud and frantic in my ears. He was just here. Just behind me, with his game and his earpiece. I spun around, my gaze sweeping the space more frantically now. I walked back a few steps, then forward again, checking behind pillars, near the entrance, anywhere a small boy might wander off to.

I could feel it even now—his shadow, cold and heavy, pressing against the walls like a stain that wouldn’t fade. I dragged one hand across the floor until I found the wall and used it to pull myself upright. My arm shook violently. My fingers slipped once, twice, before I managed to sit back against the wall, knees drawn to my chest. It was dark—though for me, it always was. Still, I could sense the shape of the room. The broken chair near the corner. The window high above, sealed shut, no breeze, no light. The faint hum of the generator downstairs. I knew it all by sound. By air. By memory.

“Let’s keep moving some time recently I crack out.” Ivy is as of now a few paces ahead of us, peering around corners and looking through windows as we make our tense way down the hall. There’s no slippery way of clouding the security cameras this time, so we do our best to keep our heads down, imploring there’s sufficient through activity that we don’t draw attention.

I guess my search finally concluded. I look around to see if no one followed me, I open the door slightly to see if it is Ethan or someone else. As I hear, I see something unusual, I see a shadow through the mirror in front of me, which appears to be standing far behind me in the corner. I look back and I see no one. I turn around to inspect hoping that I'm not going crazy, as I walk slowly towards the corner, The door swings open where Ethan was staying.

You can’t exactly buy werewolf-grade cock rings at Spencer’s, after all. I just stepped out of the shop when something shifts. I freeze. No scent. No movement. Nothing visible. But my instincts are screaming. Something’s wrong. I keep my claws sheathed but flex them into my right hand, slipping my keys between the fingers of my left. I hustle toward my car, scanning the street, heart thudding. Everything about this moment reminds me of the war. Of the Riding Hoods. If they’re in the area, I need to move fast.

"Dinner will be served in about twenty minutes. You'll be sitting with me." They've disappeared now, but I'm positive they headed in the direction of the bathrooms. I look around once before going after them. I see the bathrooms, but to the left there's a long, dark corridor. I have no idea where it might lead to, but I'm hearing some noises. I hold my breath as I peer around the corner carefully. I know how dangerous this is, but I have to know. What I see stuns me. I bite back a gasp.

Moving with agility and caution, I navigated the hidden paths, the urgency in my steps driving me forward. Finally, I arrived near the wall just before the entrance of the packhouse. Pausing in my tracks, I pressed myself against the wall. Peering around the corner, my heart raced as I watched several figures stealthily slip into the packhouse. With great care, I concealed myself further, hiding behind the protective cover of the wall. My instincts warned me not to make myself known, for I understood the risks involved in being discovered by them.

So, she decides to gather all the information she has so far, hoping to find a lead on something while she’s doing this. Then, the hair at the back of her neck stands up, and she gets that eerie feeling again, like she is being watched. She cautiously looks around, but there is nobody inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches the open window and cautiously moves towards it. Right there, at the corner of the street, she can see a shadow lingering beside the opposite building, looking straight at her.

I glanced around, the feeling that someone was watching me growing the longer I stood still. I squinted into the dark, and moved towards away from the streetlight, hoping that my eyes would adjust and be able to see something moving in the shadows. There was a rustle behind me. I span around, yanking my keys from my running belt and rifling through them for my Swiss army knife, my eyes still fixed on the surrounding darkness.