The Warehouse Amityville Events Novels & Stories

The room exploded into silence. Sebastian stared. His heartbeat seemed suddenly louder than anything else. "Blood where?" Eleanor swallowed. "In the warehouse." "What warehouse?" "The first Hartwell warehouse." The one where the founders conducted their earliest operations. The one that had long since been demolished. The one no longer existed. Eleanor's voice trembled. "They found blood." "They found signs of a struggle." "And then..." She stopped. Unable to continue. Sebastian felt cold. Terribly cold. "What happened?" Eleanor looked directly into his eyes.

And for a second, I don’t fight it. The kitchen feels too bright. Too normal. Like the world didn’t shift last night. Like nothing happened. I move slowly, making coffee, grabbing something small to eat, trying to convince my body that this is just another morning. It’s not. Nothing is normal anymore. The TV is already on. Muted. News channel. I don’t think about it when I reach for the remote. I just unmute it. And everything stops. “Late last night, a fire broke out at an industrial warehouse located near Pier Twelve.”

I explained. "Oh, my God!" Zoey was surprised to hear what I said. "I'm sorry, I don't know. Are you all right?" "Yes, I'm all right," I said. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought you called me from the hospital or whatever. Tell me what happened," pleaded Zoey. I then told Zoey about the beginnings of the terror incident that took place in my house, to the discovery of two bodies on the beach of Saltyville. Of course, I didn't tell about Julia and Amelia's part.

Affleck pulls out his phone and scrolls through several videos before handing it over. Wellington watches first. Then his expression hardens. My mother leans closer and I move behind the couch so I can see too. The shaky footage shows a reading meter first. Then the camera pans upward. Frozen bodies. Rows and rows of frozen corpses stacked inside hidden storage chambers. My stomach flips violently. “In the same building?” Wellington asks quietly. Affleck nods. “And the place has an uninterrupted power supply. I stumbled into it by accident. Nobody would ever find it unless they knew exactly where to look.”

If it wasn’t for Jinx … and Alejandro … I wouldn’t have a twin anymore. “Warehouse Blast Opens a Grave of Secrets. The dilapidated warehouse on the edge of the Bay Area, that has recently exploded, became the center of a growing and gruesome mystery. Officials believe the blast was intentional, timed, or remotely triggered, likely to destroy evidence,” I read out loud. “They left out that my stupid brother almost died.” I get a snort and grunt as a response. Great company I’m keeping. Jerking his chin toward the paper like I’m taking too long, Jackson says two actual words — “Go on.”

The air smelled of old bait and brine, the water black and restless at the docks. Beside me, Consuelo’s team slipped into position — two unmarked cars, four agents spread wide in the shadows. Amelia thought she was calling the shots. She didn’t realize she’d been cornered the moment she opened her mouth. Eliana stayed in the car with Tara and the kids. We’d argued about that, but in the end, she knew I was right — this was mine to finiish. The warehouse was an old boat storage shed — rusted tin roof, wide enough to house two dry-docked sailboats on cracked concrete blocks. I stepped through the side door, my flashlight catching a scatter of oil drums and old rigging ropes.

"They're here to erase evidence." Ethan's expression became frighteningly still. "Move." The convoy accelerated. Inside the warehouse, Richard Cole was halfway through explaining the merger agreement when every light suddenly went out. Darkness swallowed the room. Amara instinctively stepped backward. "What happened?" Richard didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked toward the ceiling. Then quietly said, "They're here." "Who?" "The people l've been hiding from." Before Amara could ask another question, gunfire exploded outside. Rapid. Relentless.

“How can there be a warehouse under my company and nobody knows about it?” “The officers are asking questions.” I immediately headed outside as the officers were already discussing among themselves. I forced myself to stay calm. “Gentlemen.” They turned. “Mrs. Voss.” I smiled nervously. “This warehouse is news to us as well.” The woman officer narrowed her eyes. “News?” “Yes.” The senior officer crossed his arms. “Mrs. Voss, that’s difficult to believe because according to these records, products have been loaded there repeatedly.” My stomach twisted. “No.” I shook my head. “No, that’s impossible.”

“What happened?” Arthur turned the screen toward them. A BREAKING NEWS banner flashed violently across the display. MASSIVE EXPLOSION AT CLARKE LOGISTICS HUB IN NEWARK. POLICE INVESTIGATING POSSIBLE ARSON. Video footage showed flames tearing through an enormous warehouse while black smoke consumed the skyline. Then another headline appeared beneath it. ANONYMOUS SOURCE: “THE WOLFES STARTED THE FIRE. WE’RE FINISHING IT.” Lydia felt her blood run cold. “No,” she whispered.

Trigger Warnings: Voyeurism, non-consensual elements (coercion), public exposure, group sex (implied orgy), choking, and explicit language. Arthur The heavy steel doors of the warehouse usually kept our business private, but the humid summer air had forced us to crack the ventilation. Inside, the bass from the industrial speakers hummed through the concrete, a rhythmic pulse that matched the wet, frantic sounds of fifty bodies losing themselves in the dark. I was standing near the loading dock, lighting a cigarette with my partner, Soren, when I saw her.