Romans & histoires The Locked Door

He turned toward the door, his hand reaching for the handle. But it wouldn’t move. The knob twisted—but the door wouldn’t open. Locked. He frowned, trying again. Still locked. Rosemary looked at him, confused. “Why isn’t it opening?” Then suddenly—the lights in the room flickered. The air turned cold. Both of them froze. A shadow moved past the window.

Was that why he ignored the countless warnings I had given him and still chose to stay with him? Should I have given him something bigger? Was ten grand not enough for him? The thoughts swarmed my mind while my fingers traipsed along the lintel, searching for an opening. I pushed the door, it was locked. Suddenly, the door popped open. I scrunched my brows in confusion, for a house like this to have a gate opened through retinal scan, wouldn't the doors be something more sophisticated? I pushed the door open, staring at the lock. It had no knob just a flat panel, I pressed it and a series of numbers jumbled into different patterns appeared.

She wasn’t letting go. I acted without thinking. I stepped fully into the room and slammed the door shut behind me. My fingers fumbled for the old, simple lock on the doorknob. I found it and turned it. Click. It was a flimsy, cheap thing. It wouldn’t hold against a strong push. It wouldn’t buy more than a second. But it was one more second that they had together. I turned to face them, putting my back against the locked door. I could already hear the heavy footsteps thundering down the hall outside. I saw shadows moving under the door, blocking the light from the hall. They were right there.

Wren answered. Wren was mumbling under his breath as he attached the box to the door lock. He took a step back and looked at Lindsay. She could tell from the look on his face that he was worried about what could be behind that door and what could happen when it opened. They waited for close to a minute before they saw the red light on the lock turn green and heard a deep thud of the door unlocking.

It had no knob, only a small silver metal plate that looked like a slot for a card or some kind of special key. Curiosity overcame hesitation. Lalisa walked slowly towards the door as if enchanted. She tried pushing it, but the door didn't budge an inch. It was locked tight, which completely contradicted the ‘no locking doors’ rule she had been made aware of. This contradiction only made her more curious about what was hidden behind it. She recalled Kieran's words that ‘everything in this house is shared.’ If that were true, then she should have the right to know what was in this room as well.

"The contract requires a pregnancy. It does not specify which twin provides the genetics." He released my jaw and stepped back. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small, silver key. He walked over to the heavy oak door and inserted the key directly into the lock. A loud, heavy click echoed through the room. Roman pulled the key out and slid it back into his pocket. "You locked the door," I pointed out, my heart racing wildly. "You said there were no locks." "There are no locks to keep you safe from me," Roman corrected softly. "That lock is to keep everyone else out."

He rushed toward the heavy oak doors at the back of the room, running his fingers over the iron deadbolt and the defensive rune-gate. The crimson runes on the doorframe were still humming softly. The three-inch iron bolt was firmly locked in its stone housing. The seals hadn't been touched. "The doors are still sealed!" Thaddeus rasped, his face pale as parchment in the faint moonlight as he turned back to face his brothers. "The rune-gate wasn't tripped! She didn't open the lock! She... she didn't leave through the exit!"

We would return back to New York but first I had to make sure he was safe. Though all his weapons were made of silver, anything could have happened to him in the war. I again tried to open the door. Rather than sitting there while losing my mind thinking about every possibility of everything going wrong it was better I was trying to open the door with a wire. The lock was a latch bolt lock. Somehow I pushed the wair's ling shaped end out and the other end was in my hand . I kept pulling the door with my other hand. If Jonathan was behind all this then I am as good as dead.

“Brock, where’s the lock on the door?” “On the other side of it. Why?” “Brock,” she said uneasily. “I think we’re locked in here.” “Impossible,” he said as he walked to her. His tie was dangling down his chest. “Let me try.” Lexi stepped aside. “I’m sure it’s just jammed. Maybe the wood swelled.” He gripped the large black handle and pulled. They door clinked against metal. “Shit, I think you’re right.”

I mutter when I realize the door locks from the inside, and I’ve accidentally locked myself out. Which isn’t a big deal since I could just walk around to the front of the bar and go back in. But I’m a witch, and locks aren’t usually an issue for me. I step in closer to the door and raise my hand, whispering the incantation. “So, you’re Lucas King’s latest plaything?” A voice rings out behind me as soon as I get the door unlocked.