The Prison Door Novels & Stories

- said the other one who had just opened the door. I looked forward and the soldier was holding the door that led to the dungeon, which was located in the darkest part of the palace and farthest from the busy places. I went through the door, walking further inside, spotting several rooms with criminals who still had a chance to live again, only after they paid their year's penalty, if they didn't die before that happened. Just ahead, I noticed a man hanging there. He was chained by his arms and could barely put his feet on the ground.

They slammed their weight into it, and with one last deafening crash, the door burst inward. The room was huge, a prison carved into the sides of the compound. Dozens of cages lined the walls, stacked on top of one another. Some held vampires, others were filled with wolves, fae, witches. For a moment, no one moved. Then one of the prisoners blinked against the sudden light and gasped, “They’re outsiders… who are you?” Cardan ignored the question and went straight to the nearest cage. His claws tore through the lock like it was butter. The clang of metal hitting the floor startled the silence into chaos. Murmurs erupted, followed by cries of disbelief.

Patient. Like a door that had finally heard the right key turn in its lock.

My chest tightened. I muttered, "No." "Not there. Please, Damon. " I am pleading." But he disregarded me. He groaned and pushed it open, revealing the basement door of the prison and the tiny, dark room inside. Darkness pooled inside like something alive, and the air reeked of damp stone and forgotten items.

Tom woke suddenly as the door to his closet cell opened. He rose to his feet sleepily. The guard slapped a pair of cuffs around his wrists and chained them to his ankles. He sighed inwardly. This wasn't exactly new to him. The guard led him down the narrow hallway. Doors lined the sides. Some of them stood open revealing identical cells.

The thick titanium infused doors opened before Niquel. Lights immediately turned on, illuminating an empty passage between the outside world and the highly guarded prison and torture facility. Cameras situated on the corners followed his every move – he paid them no heed, resisting the urge to burn them. He had never been fond of being watched of.

What was any of us thinking? He wanted to scream, but refused to give the guards he knew were outside his door the satisfaction. He listened as best he could to what was happening on the other side of the door that kept him prisoner. Eventually he pulled himself away from the thick barrier between himself and freedom and padded back and forth across the thick, Persian carpet that covered the majority of the floor. He couldn’t decide which was worse; knowing that he was once again a captive of vile, cannibalistic vampires or being locked in a twelve by sixteen-foot room with no windows and the only exit being a solid door that was bolted on the other side. He had a clear idea of what a pri

I wanted to laugh at how quickly my wolf and my pack had taken control of them; it wasn't twenty minutes later that we had dragged them down to the pack prison cells. Two warriors were standing guard, bowing their heads at me in respect as they opened the secure steel doors, before entering the password. I walked down the stairs, going underground to where our prison was situated, the smell of dried blood and rotten flesh tickling my nose. Once down there, I approached the second heavy ironed door and moved my hand to the keypad in the wall, my finger pressing down on the numbers, the barred door sliding open.

Then the syringe stung my upper shoulder and I knew I was fucked. The first thing I saw when my eyes fluttered open was the red metal door. A cell. A dirty, metal bench for a bed, smelling like a rat’s orgy prison cell. Fabulous. Embarrassment and fury crept up my face. Curled in a ball, dressed only in Briss’s long charcoal shirt I stared at the red metal in silent rage. How had I not realised, seeing it in my vision’s over and over. It’s a prison door. I’m a prisoner.

Down to the belly of Silver Haven — where the real secrets rotted. The prison. No guards. There never were unless someone was being tortured. No one escaped these halls. Well… except me. I walked slowly, brushing the old cell doors as I passed. My fingers found the latches, one by one. Click. Click. Rust stained my gloves, years of corrosion peeling off in flakes as I opened each door. I didn’t look inside. Didn’t speak to the ones still inside those cells. Most of them weren’t people anymore. Not really. Just twitching shells breathing stale air.