Sliding Door Moment Novels & Stories

I only r‌emember t‌he sound. SLAM!‍ The door crashed open so v‍iolently the⁠ hinges d‌i⁠dn’t ju‌st bend they flew off.‌ The‍ whole wooden frame‍ c⁠racked‍ like a bone struck⁠ by lightning. Pieces tanked to t‌he‍ floo‍r, splintering across the roo‍m. Kael gasped. Ella jerk⁠ed backward. Both women whipped⁠ their heads toward me.

My mate is full of surprises. I’m not sure what to think about this new development. I can only nod and focus on the handle in my grasp, along with the magic flowing through us. One twist and pull and the door lets out a squeal as the wood slides against its frame and slaps the wall as I release my hold on it.

I didn’t care though, I'm not in the mood right now. But then— The entire set of doors suddenly slid shut with a deep mechanical hum, then clicked and then— locked. “What the!?” I blinked, moving closer. “No, no… no—” The small LED panel above the door flashed SECURE MODE. Panic spiked hot in my throat. I pressed my palm to the floor. It didn’t budge, not even the slightest bit. “What the hell—? Open the door!” I shouted, banging the glass hard. “Open it!”

I slid the paper under her door. I stood at the door for a long count. I had not slid one in daylight before. I had slid one at three in the morning. I had slid one at noon. I had slid one yesterday at six in the evening with a wooden box in my other hand. Seven in the morning was new. I did not knock. I went back up the corridor. To my room. To the chair by the window. I sat down. I watched the morning come up over the eastern wall.

“We can tip it!” Jake followed my gaze and gave a sharp nod. “On three! One… two… THREE!” He shoved off the door, and it immediately burst open another few inches, allowing a snarling, decomposed face to press into the opening. We lunged for the enormous desk. It was monstrously heavy, a solid behemoth of oak and laminate. We strained, muscles corded in our necks and backs, our boots slipping on the smooth floor. For a heart-stopping second, it refused to budge. Then, with a deafening screech of protesting wood against marble, it began to slide. We pushed with everything we had, a shared, guttural cry of effort tearing from our throats. We angled it, slamming it diagonally against the double

Clementine murmured, stopping in her tracks. I held my breath. From the far end of the room, near the glass sliders that led to the balcony, I heard a faint, rhythmic creaking. The sliding door was inching open. A shadow moved against the moonlight, and then a man’s face appeared in the gap.

Brett roared, grabbing Sloane’s hand and hauling her to her feet in one powerful motion. They sprinted down the aisle toward the blast door. The heavy steel door was already beginning to slide shut on its hydraulic tracks, narrowing the exit gap inch by inch. Brett reached the door first. He planted his boots on the metal grate, grabbed the edge of the five-hundred-pound steel door with his bare hands, and used his immense physical strength to hold the hydraulic mechanism back, muscle straining against his black coat. "Sloane! Slide through!" Brett growled, his face contorted with exertion, the veins on his neck bulging.

Fifteen seconds. The external observer moved to the stairwell door and placed his hand on the bar without pushing. Dual residual feeds local device memory only, captured the posture. The operators adjusted Ruby between them so that any forced movement toward the door would require overcoming both grips at once. The concrete landing had reduced to a single decision surface under a timer the pathway owned. The tone from the corridor changed pitch. The neutral unit door had released.

Glancing at the kitchen window, I see Juliet watching me, and putting on my most comforting smile, I ignore the excited dog beside me and wait for her to get started on her breakfast cooking. This far removed from town and with as little of material value that we have, there’s never been a need to put a lock on the cellar’s storm doors— the slide bolt's been sufficient. Examining them now, I suspect that’s changed. The bar that normally keeps them closed is angled out of alignment, and one of the hinges on one door is badly bent.

ARIA POV: The moment the heavy oak doors of Kael’s study closed behind me with a sound like a tomb sealing, my legs almost gave out entirely. The muscles that had been holding me upright through sheer force suddenly went liquid, and I stumbled against the corridor wall with enough force to bruise my shoulder.