Tales From The Secret Annex Novels & Stories

Soft light from overhead fixtures cast a warm glow, illuminating the objects and creating dancing shadows between the stacks. Albert gestured toward the aisles. “Everything here is cataloged and secured. Only authorized personnel may access the restricted sections. Many of these texts contain knowledge that cannot be found elsewhere—ancient histories, tactical manuals, and records of extraordinary events. But the really fun stuff is in the basement and catacombs.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Alexander gave a crooked grin. “You’re welcome.” The vault door was heavier than I expected. Inside, it wasn’t filled with gold or heirlooms, like you might imagine in an old family vault. Instead, rows of neatly labeled folders and hard drives filled the shelves, everything in perfect order, like an archive of secrets. Alexander grabbed a box labeled Confidential, 2011. I reached for another marked Kingman Group (Legal Affairs). “Wait,” I said, freezing. “Kingman Group?”

I stayed. One night, after Caleb left on yet another late errand, I found it: a yellowed paper taped under a drawer in his study. With trembling fingers I unfolded it. Scribbled in hurried ink were words I’d hate forever: “Warehouse 12, Redwood Drive – midnight, all meat ready for transporting.” Below it, a single key was taped under the wood. My pulse thundered. A secret warehouse. Meat was what they called people I couldn't believe it, surely Caleb couldn't do something so horrible.

All this, due to localized earthquakes and tremors, that place was kept away from the onlookers, due to the fragile structure that was not suitable for walking, and there would be no people who could observe and enter that place. So, they were sent, and he forced many to work in the secret camps, where he had secret services and reinforced by terrorist engineers and builders, this location was the source of stories of witches and boggarts that roamed through those properties he bought. Those places he bought were used as labour, they were exactly what they called expendables, which were entire wealthy Jewish families who could have their money confiscated, which was in that place called Verg

It was a mausoleum for truths too dangerous to speak aloud. Not just about Eliora. Not just about the girl in violets. But others. Dozens of others. There were drawers filled with files. Sealed envelopes with initials she didn’t recognize. Some folders were stacked in tidy rows. Others were scattered, marked with red wax or black ribbons. She saw names. Dates. Some crossed out. Some highlighted. Notes scribbled in a hand that looked painfully familiar. This was the price of legacy. Of silence. Of power built on the bones of forgotten girls and secret decisions.

She even left Holly in the tiny house. Maria traveled quite a distance, until finally she arrived at her destination. Although she was frightened, Maria tried to be brave. Her tattered clothes and bloodstains made everyone in the headquarters of a secret security agency look at Maria with a scrutinizing gaze. Until finally Maria's steps stopped right at a table and there was a stocky man writing something down in a large book. "Sir, I need one of your members to guard me." The man glanced at Maria, then he leaned his back, trying to examine her then he folded his arms across his chest.

he thought, his mind was full of curiosity as he followed Raja into the hidden depths of the café. Tales followed closely behind Raja as they passed through the discreet side door. A small corridor stretched ahead, dimly lit and lined with black walls. It didn’t take long for them to reach the end, where another scanner awaited. Raja placed his palm on it, and with a faint beep, the hidden elevator doors slid open. “Get in,” Raja ordered, stepping inside. Tales followed silently, his gaze wary.

“Elijah’s making a move. Now.” Zane’s voice cut through the tense air like a whip. He appeared out of nowhere, breathless and urgent. His words stopped me cold. “What do you mean?” I demanded, narrowing my gaze. My heart was already racing—there was no mistaking the weight of his tone. “He’s called a secret meeting. Only his loyalists are allowed in, and they’re guarding the doors. It’s happening in the east chamber.” Zane’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Annabel, he’s planning to take out anyone who’s questioned him—permanently.”

The three of them spun around. The voice had come from a speaker hidden somewhere overhead. Calm. Measured. Male. "You should leave." Julian stepped forward. "Show yourself." A quiet chuckle answered him. "I already have." Lights flickered on one by one throughout the hidden archive. Old fluorescent fixtures buzzed to life. For the first time, they could see the full extent of the room. Hundreds of boxes. Thousands of files. Decades of secrets. And mounted high on the far wall... A framed black-and-white photograph.

If I were to unintentionally reveal their secret to the world, her reputation would be shattered. Sam acknowledged the validity of her concern. Given that I spent time away from the house, an accidental slip of the tongue on my part could have serious consequences for both of them. I felt a surge of secret triumph hearing their worries. Their anxiety played right into my hands, as I knew the most effective way to ensure someone keeps a secret is to involve them in it directly. So I pretended to be dumb, wiped my face, and laughed foolishly at Fenelle for wetting the bed at her age.