The Third Door Novels & Stories

My heart froze in my chest, and the doubt that was already setting in was such a terrible one that wasn't welcome there. "Okay, I'll go. I trust Alfy and I know that this is some stupid plan of yours." I scoffed, wiping the tears from off my cheeks with my fingers. "Good choice." He drove his hand into the pocket and brought out a key from it. "Here, take this. It is the key to the main door. It's not usually locked but I just got it for you, just if it's necessary. You'll see them in the permanent room where they stay, the third floor, the first door by your right hand side on the third floor."

The three names written in every prophecy. The three people whose lives had been connected from the beginning. Evelyn looked at the Blood God. "And after we open it?" His eyes became filled with an ancient sadness. "One of you will have to walk through." No one spoke. They already knew what that meant. There was no return. The place beyond the Door was where even gods feared to step. The First Judge looked at Evelyn. His expression was calmer than before. But there was something new inside his eyes. Respect.

The air grew cooler as we reached the third floor, and I noticed there was still one more level above us, probably reserved for the Alpha himself. Sean stopped in front of a wide, beautifully carved door. I stared at the door handle, it wasn’t an ordinary one. It had markings, runes glowing faintly. He pressed his hand against a small screen beside it, and a light beeped. I blinked, confused. Then the door clicked open. I gasped softly.

The problem wasn’t over yet, but at least he’s gone for now. I turned slowly to face him again. His gray eyes, sharp and cold, were fixed on me. For a split second, I felt exposed, like he could see straight through me and through my thoughts. “I… thank you,” I said quickly, bowing and forcing a smile. “And… I’m sorry for the trouble.” “That’s the third time,” he murmured, almost under his breath, before turning and walking away. I stood frozen in time for a moment, watching his facade fade down the hallway. The words echoed in my mind. The third time? My pulse skipped. Does he actually remember me? My chest tightened as I realized what just happened. Or am I just possibly overthinking thing

"He’s probably just checking up on the widow. Club duty." Club duty doesn't look at you like you're a meal. I push the thought away. I climb the three flights of stairs, my legs burning. The stairwell smells of old cooking oil and cat piss. I reach the third floor. I’m already reaching for my keys, fishing for the jagged piece of metal that opens my sanctuary. I stop. My hand freezes mid-air. My door is white. Peeling paint. Number 3B. It’s open. Just a crack. A sliver of darkness showing where the jamb should be flush.

I was in front, my gun up, Dante right behind me. Clear on the first floor. There had been noise coming from the second, not here; we moved ahead. Then we got to the third. All the doors looked pretty much the same from where I stood. Brown wood. Black numbers. Carpeted hallway. It smelled like bleach and something sour—maybe rust or blood or something. “307,” he said as we stopped before a door that had the number. I looked at the door handle, then at Dante. He gave me a single nod.

“Are you sure about this?” Without a word, Carmilla moved. She climbed the remaining steps with fierce purpose, her gown now dried but still bearing faint traces of the wine spill. Her heart pounded with every step. They reached the third floor. Room 3C stood at the very end of the hallway, its door unadorned, no welcome mat, no nameplate, just a cold metal number on dull wood. The hallway light flickered above them like it, too, was holding its breath. Carmilla stepped forward and knocked, sharp and firm.

The hinges of the heavy door creaks open with a wheezing cry. “I don't think they heard the door,” Beau whispers. “Remember, Kieran, you're going to the third door on the left.” I slink down the hallway, sticking as close to the wall as possible. The silence here is terrifying. It's like the house is holding its breath, just waiting for something to go wrong. I pass the first door, then the second and then the third door comes into view. I turn the handle and push the door open with bated breath. I don't know what I expect to see. A piece of me assumes it will be different from looking at it through binoculars day after day.

He stopped. He didn't look back. "Are you coming?" he said. ______ She had been wrong about the door. She had clocked it on her previous visits to the third floor and filed it as a small room, a linen cupboard perhaps, or something functional and unremarkable. The door itself suggested nothing otherwise, plain wood, a simple lock, no different from the others along the corridor. Alistair unlocked it and pushed it open and stepped through. Caelith followed him and stopped.

I could have sworn I saw everyone's car out front. “Yes. The crew is here, but others live here too.” I hummed in understanding as I followed Walker to the third floor. He stopped in front of the largest and most impressive door I've ever seen. The wood is a unique color, with light and dark grain. A beautiful pattern of a large tree with bare branches is carved into the door. It's stunning! He pushed the door open and allowed me to enter first. “So, um…” Walker started, pausing as he set our bags down and closed the door.