The Gatehouse Book Novels & Stories

Gabriel had been seventeen, broken, and desperate for understanding that never came. Instead, he found himself standing outside the iron gates of the Thorne estate at half past one in the morning, his breath misting in the October air as he stared up at the mansion that had once been his entire world. The place looked exactly as he remembered it, all Gothic spires and holy stonework, crosses carved into every available surface as though the architecture itself could repel demons. Floodlights illuminated the grounds with cold precision, turning the manicured gardens into something that resembled a military compound more than a home.

I gasped when I was finally able to open it but stopped on my track as I contemplated whether to totally open the gate and close it once again and just hide inside our house for the rest of the day. "Gab." Maze's soft voice is enough to lessen the tension inside me. 'I'm here." And those words are more than enough for me to finish what I started. And so, I took a deep breath once again and mustered all my guts before swinging the gate open. And what's behind the gate is enough to cause me to freeze to where I'm standing. • to be continued •

I looked around at the cottages painted in sunrise colors, at the fountain sparkling in the early light, at the people beginning their day with laughter and purpose. It was beautiful. But it wasn’t home. I straightened my shoulders, took one last look at the valley, then turned toward the path we’d come through yesterday. I would find my own way out. The fortress gate loomed ahead. It was massive, and carved with vines and crescent moons. No guards stood watch. I walked up to it, placed both hands on the wood, and pushed. It didn't move I pushed harder. The gate didn’t budge. I circled it, looking for a latch, a lever, anything.

I saw the gunny sacks and powder around them, that much have been some type of food left to spoil for so long ago. We continued walking and I knew we were almost to the manor seeing all the different rooms. There was an iron gate ahead of us with rose stem engravings and the initials “L F” engraved in the center. I wasn’t sure if it was locked or not. It didn’t look like there was a lock on it. These type of gates would have been chained closed. It may be possible that in an effort to escape the mansion from persecution, they didn’t have time to lock it and that could be why later the escape door in the gate house was painted shut. This makes the most sense. As we continued walking, we appr

My mind blurred, and I almost collapsed from the sickening smell. "What’s that?" Emily whispered. I crouched behind a tree and peered out. Within a hundred yards, a massive fortress stood tall and stretched to unknowable ends. "We reach the gatehouse," I muttered. The gatehouse served as the quarters of the guards on duty at the border. Its rectangular-shaped structure was taller than the fortress, with twin watchtowers on either side. However, there was nobody to be seen. I scanned every side with my senses honed in.

"Fine, fine. Hurry up." I took a deep breath and walked to the turnstile at the dorm entrance, pressing my student ID steadily against the sensor. Beep. A crisp confirmation sound rang out, and the gate opened in response. I let out a quiet breath. It seemed that after restarting everything, some things had not happened yet. Mrs. Mercer rolled her eyes. "See? It works just fine. Young girls should stop being so suspicious all day long." I smiled, thanked her, and headed straight for the academic building.

I heard Norgarth mumble under his breath. “What is that sound? Who is that? Do you know?” I looked at Norgarth and grabbed him for shirt. He looked at me with a confused expression on his face. I ran and followed the source of the sound. It led me to a place with doors different from any other doors in Macabantrah. A faded number 7 could be seen on the top of the iron gate. Gates seemed to be compelled by some heavy and ancient magic. I tried to open them with brute force, but I couldn’t. I tried to break them with the chthonic axe, but nothing happened.

The pack house. I wasn’t even sure what I expected; a large cabin? A fenced-off compound? But what came into view when we rounded the bend took my breath away. A massive iron gate loomed in the distance, flanked by two stone towers with floodlights positioned above. The walls weren’t just fences; they were walls, tall and fortified, like something out of a high-security estate. Ridge pulled up to the control point without saying a word and rolled his window down. I watched him as he did what he must have done about a million times over.

“Do you think we can really use this?” “Definitely, yes. I heard that the Book of Gates contains twelve hours, a series of gates that the soul should have safe passage. Each gate is said to be associated with a goddess with a specific title. The book is believed to help those who have departed to make their journey safe to the underworld.” “And we can use it as a last resort to defeat Priestess Nehes.” Everyone looked at Zadi when she finished saying it. “But how is that possible?” Eric asked in confusion. “If it’s for the dead, then it’s not applicable to the living people, is it?”

I ask. "The choice is yours," she replies, her gaze unwavering. She then points to the other side of the meadow, where an alternate gate stands. This one lacks the radiant glow, casting a shadow over the path beyond. Everything beyond the gate is shrouded in shadows and a sense of unease grips me. "I don't like that gate," I admit, my instincts urging me away from the obscurity it represents. The woman chuckles. "You asked what this place is, well, that gate symbolizes life. Isn't life about stepping into uncertainties and transforming them into beautiful memories?"