The Locked Door Novels & Stories

A warning appeared on the main screen. INTERNAL SECURITY LOCKDOWN. My heart dropped. “No.” I rushed toward the door. Cairos followed me. I grabbed the handle and pulled. It didn’t move. “Open.” I entered my code into the panel beside the door. Nothing happened. I tried again, still nothing. Cairos stepped forward and tried his command code. The door remained locked. He looked at me. “Can you override it?” “No.” “Try another access point.” “There are three.”

When I reached the doors, I tugged at the handle, but it didn’t budge. “Why won’t this stupid door open?” I muttered under my breath, pulling harder, but it didn’t move. My chest heaved as panic began to claw its way into my mind. “Excuse me,” I called to the security guard standing nearby, his imposing figure blocking the doorway. “Why are the doors locked?” He gave me a quick glance, then straightened up. “The door is jammed. Someone is already on their way to fix it, but until then, we have to wait.”

He had said he'd always treat me like a little sister. Now, he had locked me in this lightless basement.

I heard her say before the door slammed closed. “Mel!” I slammed my palm flat on the metal door. “This is not funny!” I can’t believe that annoying woman locked me out. I twisted the knob and pressed my thumb on the smart lock but it rejected my prints. That’s strange. “So this is their plan.” Jake’s voice startled me, making me jump back. My hands shot up to my chest as I turned, feeling my heartbeat taking speed. He emerged from the dark, wearing the same annoyed look as I do. “W-what?” “They locked us here,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Shit.

Not to lose the opportunity, I stepped inside. I was in the living room, which would be perfect for any business meeting. I saw an open space towards the end of the room, which showed the entire view of the city. I saw a dining place and a bedroom on the other side. I snapped out from admiring the interior when I heard a click and turned to see Mr. Alastair closing the door. But why is locking and stowing the key in? Was he not going to wait for whoever is about to come? Or did he booked the room for any other purposes and mistook me? I took a step back unconsciously at these thoughts. **************************

I heard the sound of their voices, but could not make out what they were saying. There was a keypad next to the door linked to the locking mechanism. The little light blinked red to indicate that the door was locked. I punched in the key and a second later the locks clanged loudly as the door opened, but they had barricaded it on the inside with a bar of solid silver. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't break the door down. I pushed the button on the intercom next to the steel door. “You fuckers have exactly ten seconds to come out of there, or I swear to The Goddess above, I’ll blow this place up with you inside it.

The kind of stillness that was the opposite of calm. “She locked it,” he said. “From the inside?” “Yes.” I looked at the door. It was one of the older ones. Heavy oak, iron hinges, the kind of door that had been built to actually keep things out rather than just mark the boundary of a room. The lock was solid. “How long has she been in there?” I asked. “Two minutes. Maybe three.” I thought about that. Two or three minutes was enough time to do a lot of things in a room, depending on what you had in the room to work with.

The door is wide open. If they see the door... I hear footsteps on the concrete. Heavy. Purposeful. Step. Step. Step. I have seconds. I grab the handle of the massive steel door. I pull. It is heavy. So heavy. I strain against the weight. My muscles burn. The footsteps are getting closer. Close it. Close it. The door swings shut. Clang. I spin the wheel. I am locked inside. I press my ear to the cold steel. The footsteps stop right outside.

“It’s locked.” “What?” I carefully removed his hands from the door knob and tried to do the twisting again. “Oh, fuck. It really is locked. But who the hell would lock the main door of a Men’s comfort room? That is just so gay-ish.” Travis firmed himself as he blew a good breather. He looked at the door as if it was a sort of a difficult riddle for him to solve.

A heavy riveted door stood before them, stenciled Sous-sol 1 - Accès Restreint This door featured a modern keypad, but its LED screen was unlit. Sabatine reached for the handle. It was locked, but it was a mechanical bolt. He applied a small, hydraulic jack from his pack to the space between door and frame, near the lock. With a low groaning whine, the metal buckled and the bolt sheared with a loud crack that seemed catastrophically loud in the confined space. They froze, listening. No alarm. No shouts. Only the ceaseless thrum of the generators.