The Forgotten Room Book Novels & Stories

she begged him softly, glancing around them furtively. Vance began to lean in her direction until another shove, this time hard, between his shoulder blades from Sigwulf kept him moving. “Pretty, but dirty,” Sigwulf muttered. “Her lips have badly concealed scabs. Move.” They reached the door on the far side of the room where Vance silently opened the rotting door and entered a small, dimly room that was their destination, with Sigwulf following. After gently closing the door, Sigwulf locked it and stepped into the shadows, his dark clothing shrouding him, effectively making him invisible.

Jeni watched me, nervously. "I think somethings...wrong...with..." I said as I tried to stand up, collapsing to the floor. My last sight was Jeni's feet. They were pretty cute. I blacked out. ---------------------------------------------- Family Reunions ---------------------------------------------- I woke up groggy, not myself at all. I was in a comfortable if tiny bed, in a small room. There were no windows and only one door, which was metal and looked sturdy. Like a door at a jail. There was also a desk with an uncomfortable-looking chair, a lamp and two books. One of the books was a blank notebook with a pen. The other was 'The Quiet of Solitude'. I recognized the author's name.

Truly frightening, to be able to put guards of such caliber as sleep long enough to kidnap Hazel. It seems that if I want to protect myself in this place, I must begin to do my own findings away from the eyes of people. I also need to start to question even the servants. I turn my gaze towards the execution grounds of the estate and let out a smile. I remember as a child, this particular room was always thought to be haunted due to the fact that the room faced the execution ground and the piles of dead bodies could be seen before they are cleared out. A smile comes up to my face thinking if my mischievous childhood days of sneaking into this room to watch the executions. Of course once I cam

"My parents and my sister, Lyla." He turned back to her after nodding and taking another look at the picture. "So, the room?" Hyper aware of his presence behind her, Grace guided him down the corridor. She said, "It's not very large," and opened the second bedroom door. "But it gets good light in the morning." Max entered and looked around the deserted room. With the exception of the dust bunnies beneath the bed and an enigmatic stain on the carpet that Grace had spent hours cleaning, Megan had taken everything.

Dominic squinted as he read it aloud: "Memento Oblitus." Victoria’s eyes widened in sudden realization. "Remember the forgotten!" she echoed, her voice breathless with excitement. In a flurry of motion, she rushed toward Dominic and snatched the old, crumbling book from his hands. Dust puffed into the air, filling the small cabin with the scent of aged parchment. Her face lit up with an almost childlike joy as she ran her fingers across the brittle pages. "This… this is exactly the answer we’ve been searching for!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with newfound hope.

Just as I close the fridge door, a sudden, agonizing howl pierces the air, instantly capturing my attention. The scent that accompanies it is so overpowering that it leaves me momentarily stunned. Without wasting a second, I swiftly grab the water bottles and rush towards my bedroom, hoping to find Nathalia there. However, my heart sinks as I reach the door, realizing that she has taken not only my bedding but also my pillows. Feeling a mix of frustration and concern, I turn on my heels and make my way towards the living room, my eyes fixated on the enigmatic purple door ahead.

It was supposed to be a room for reading. I stood there for a moment, thinking. I tried a few numbers that felt obvious. His birthday. Mine. Catherine's. None worked. The screen flashed red each time. Then I remembered a number I had seen scribbled inside one of Dad's books days ago. It had seemed random then. 012214. My palms grew sweaty as I slowly typed it in. For a second, nothing happened. Then there was a soft click. The door unlocked. My stomach dropped. I pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was larger than I imagined. Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with books arranged with precise neatness. The air smelled of old paper and polished wood. It felt like stepping

As soon as the door opened, Natasya stepped inside. She froze. The room hadn’t changed much. Only a few photos on the wall were different. Photos of Roby. And Larisa. She held her breath. There should only be photos of me and Erik here. “All this time, you acted as if everything here belonged to you,” she murmured. “But today, I’m taking it all back.” She entered her private chamber and found the small safe hidden behind a painting. Her hands trembled slightly as she entered the combination — her birthday.

He had already gotten used to their presence without realizing it. With heavy footsteps, James trudged up the stairs. He paused outside Naomi's room, his hand trembling as he turned the knob. This was the first time he'd entered her room. As soon as he stepped in, a faint fragrance greeted him. It was her familiar scent, and it soothed his restless heart. The room was neat and completely empty, as if no one had ever lived there before. James sat down on the bed in defeat, his head hanging low. He thought back to the past, and he saw Naomi working diligently in the office six years ago in his mind's eye.

The hole was narrow at the beginning then it widened gradually to reveal a spacious hallway, one that hadn’t been used in centuries. “What is this place?” Eliana asked her voice echoing in the empty hall. Lucian didn’t answer. Only the tap-tap of their feet could be heard as they rounded a corner and came to a wide opening. It was a large room with rusted bunks without bed lining the whole area and a little space in the middle. “Hostel room?” Eliana asked. Lucian shrugged. He had no idea also. The chair in the middle caught her attention but that wasn’t the only thing there. The figure sitting there looking dejected and forlorn was more interesting than the chair.