The Warehouse Amityville Events นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The warehouse is becoming a beacon for monsters. It isn’t just the Riding Hoods anymore. It’s the creatures gathering outside. Entities straight out of nightmares are circling, drawn in like vultures to a carcass. More and more danger closing in on our mate. Wolfsbane poisoning. The Riding Hoods. Beasts with glowing eyes and razor teeth. And then, there’s just the simple, terrifying possibility of getting lost in the labyrinth beneath the warehouse. Charlie has to get out of there. Now. “Can’t Charlie scent the way out?” Citra asks, as exasperated as the rest of us.

However, Amy's prejudice and stupidity were wearing me thin. As soon as my words fell, everyone fell silent, and the atmosphere became awkward. "Shut up! Are you going to describe the details in front of everyone?" Cecilia mind-linked me while blushing. Then, she scanned everyone and said, "This warehouse is only 30 meters from the camp gate, yet the guards didn't hear any cries for help. This meant that Ellie knew the killer. And the fact that the killer dared to commit the crime so close to the camp, what does that tell us?"

“Start with the warehouse. The night you witnessed the trafficking. Tell me everything.” I took a breath, preparing to confess, to lay bare every terrible choice we’d made. “It was Wednesday, just after midnight. We arrived at Warehouse 7 in Perth Amboy. Both of us were wearing wires for the FBI—” The window exploded. Glass sprayed everywhere, the sound deafening, shards flying like shrapnel. Sarah jerked backward, her shoulder erupting in red, blood spraying across her white shirt in a horrific arterial burst. She screamed, a high, thin sound of shock.

“Hey guys, I need to know when we are going to head over to that warehouse that Amy said was about ten miles from Juxney’s. I’m not sure I remember where that is.” “I know where that is.” Gael said. “We used to use that field over there to play baseball and soccer.” “Well, we need to get over there and get those she-wolves. Every day that passes is another day they could be in misery, and I can’t have that.” Phoenix said with authority in her voice. Sonya asked, “How do we know that it isn’t a trap? I mean Amy may have been lying.” “Oh no, we know it isn’t a trap.” Tina said as she got up to grab some more food. That girl could put it away.

The press had it by 1:15pm. _Carter Accuses Blackwood of Arson_ Elena watched the headline go live from her office. She felt sick. --- *Sunday | 4:00pm | The Warehouse Again* Elena couldn’t sit still. She went back to the Queens warehouse. She needed the 2025 security maintenance records. The lights were off. Only the emergency exit sign glowed red. She heard a sound. A step. She turned. Adrian Voss was there. Same black coat.

A few of the more sheepish coworkers quickly dropped their heads. I tapped my phone again and pulled up the second video. The timestamp was clear: 8:00 p.m. sharp. The footage showed Madison breezing through my front door, followed by Mr. Gabelman, the two of them all over each other like they owned the place. Condom wrappers of all varieties were carelessly tossed onto the floor. They acted like it was their own home.

He had that hesitation again. “There is something you should see for yourself sir.” “ What’s that?” He glanced around. “It’s something you should see sir. I rather not say.” He tapped the play button on the tablet. The timestamp showed twenty minutes before we got there. A car drove up to the warehouse and packed. A lady came out and walked into the warehouse, confident and well dressed, in the same way as Amora. She walked into the warehouse and made a call. “I’m here.” The call ended abruptly and she continued walking down the hallway.

A notification chimed. Unknown Number Warehouse 17, East Harbor Road. 6:00 PM. Come alone. Attached to the message was a photograph. My blood ran cold. It was a picture taken ten years ago... The very night everything changed. "No..." I whispered, my face draining of color. "How did they get this?”

“One of the warehouses.” My muscles tightened instantly. “Which one?” “The holding dock by the West Pier.” I stood up all the way, anger hitting me like ice water. “Vincent, if you’re calling me because someone attempted something—” “No,” he cut in. “Boss—they succeeded. They blew it up. There was a bomb there and they detonated it.” Blood roared in my ears. Who the hell… Who the actual fuck would hit my warehouse? I forced my voice to stay flat. “Is anyone hurt?”

They appeared within seconds, both men reading the urgency in my voice and adjusting their posture accordingly. "It's time," I said, showing them the message. I tried not to think about what Luciano might have done to her, what condition she'd be in when I found her. Tried not to think about Alastair at all. But my mind kept drifting to green eyes and the way he'd looked at me in that restroom, like I was the only person in the world who mattered. Warehouse 12 stood at the end of a row of abandoned industrial buildings, its windows dark and its loading docks empty. The kind of place where bad things happened to people who crossed the wrong families. As we pulled up, I could see a single figu