The Third Door Novels & Stories

Their masters were out hunting, or drawn to the idol, or simply waiting. I picked the locks with quiet efficiency, my fingers steady. The first three rooms were nests of decay—rotting cloth, strange bone trinkets, pools of stagnant water. No food. The fourth door had a photo tacked to it. A crude, sun-bleached picture of Waiter Three, his daytime smile already looking like a grimace. His room. A flicker of caution. He’d been strong, faster than the others. I listened at the door for a full minute, hearing only my own heartbeat. Then I went in.

"You can go take a shower. There are clothes in the closet. Just take what you want." "Thank you." "It’s down the hall, third door on the right." Third door on the right? How big is this place? Rhye moves away from her, his attention focused on someone he was talking to on the phone. His voice was low, dangerous, and she just wanted to crawl onto his lap and fuck him so he would be distracted and think of nothing but her. But she felt like that might be a little shortsighted, so instead, she did as she was told.

The way he looked at her like she was breakable and already breaking. She walked slowly to the hallway, past the closet, past the bathroom, to the door at the end. The study. She had never been inside. He always kept it shut. It hadn’t mattered before, but now, it throbbed in her mind. A locked door. A secret. Maybe the truth. She hesitated. Then turned the handle. Unlocked. She stepped in. The air was cooler. Dim. The room was small but lined with shelves, books stacked in chaotic towers on the floor and windowsills. A desk sat at the far end, littered with old cameras, a sketchpad, and a glass tumbler with the remnants of whiskey.

“Could this door really be the third providence? And those over the age limit aren’t able to enter?” Many prodigies began to make guesses. After one made it through the door, another creature tried. Soon, many of them had passed through the door. James stood aside, not daring to act rashly. He did not immediately enter the door but came to Walganus. He said, “The South Heaven Door is probably the third providence. Since you’ve already exceeded the age limit, you’re not allowed to obtain it.”

He must probably feeling the chill. Alas, we were now on the third floor. There was only one door. It was not locked. It was slightly opened. Suddenly, the chill crawled on my back. I shivered. I stared at the gap of the door. I was afraid that someone hideous would come out. Until it moved slowly and opened wider. 'Creak....'

The gate continued pulsing. Lucien was staring. Not surprised. Alarmed. "What did you see?" he demanded. I struggled to steady my breathing. "The Third Gate." Silence. Every person in the room froze. Even the hooded followers behind Lucien. Because they understood exactly what that meant. Lucien's face darkened. "No." "It's awake." "No." His voice came out sharper this time. Almost desperate. "It can't be." The connection surged again. Confirming it. The Third Gate had answered.

She added, stretching her right hand towards me. “No, another note, right? Another note to make me get worried.” “If you can't answer me then leave my room, right now,” I spoke angrily. “I don't have enough time, just believe me.” She dropped a key on the floor and hurried towards the door. “When the night goes off tonight, use this, the third door on the north wing.” She said standing right in front of the door. “You know I can't do that.” Her hand was now on the knob of the door and she replied to me, “You have to if you really want to know the truth.”

"I thought the third floor didn't exist." "Tonight it does." Her eyes locked onto mine, the rigid professionalism cracking just enough to reveal a stark, desperate warning. "Twice, Evelyn. Knock twice. Wait for an answer. Do not open that door without one." The spiraling staircase to the third floor was guarded by the massive bouncer from the front entrance. Standing at the base of those steps, I noticed beads of sweat glistening at his temples. He glanced at the velvet box on my tray, then at my face, and stepped aside without a word. He refused to meet my eyes.

"Okay?" "Yes." The corridor was narrow, there were three doors. Over the first was the symbol of three black moons, over the second, a key and the third had nothing. "How welcoming," I murmured. "We can go back." "That doesn't help either." "I'm just saying." "I know." The first door was locked and Nathan tried the handle without magic. Nothing. I looked at the symbol. "Maybe me," I whispered. "Why?" "The domestic key," I said mockingly and his expression hardened.

Zerina’s practically pacing, pressing forward every few steps as we climb a wide staircase that winds up past the second floor. My legs ache with each step, but I’d climb a hundred more if it meant staying close to him. We reach the third floor landing, and I freeze when I realize how quiet it is up here. Unlike the other floors, there’s a stillness, a hush that feels almost reverent. There are four doors, each solid and rich in color—dark walnut with black iron handles. The air smells faintly of pine and clean linen. He walks to the far left door and opens it without a word, holding it there for me.