Thirteen Keys Novels & Stories

Okay, so maybe that drawer wasn’t going to hold any secrets she’d be interested in. “Third time is a charm,” Violet whispered and opened the last draw on the left side. “If I was an alcoholic,” she breathed when she saw all that it held was a large wide bottle of something no doubt alcoholic and a couple of glasses. “Damn it,” she said and turned to the right side and opened the first drawer. It was filled with blank paper and note pads. The second jerked with a loud knock as she tried to open it. Locked. Licking her lips, Violet once more glanced back to the door then down at the drawer. The keyhole was obvious. She wasn’t sure how she missed it.

He finally got the paper, and after scanning through it for less than a second, he said, “You tell me!” he handed me the paper, and it read. “This is just the beginning, Scarlett, and remember, no secret is hidden forever!!!” “What is the meaning of this nonsense?! How are you related to these people, Scarlett?” He yelled as he tucked his gun into his pants. “I have no idea; I swear, I really don't know who these people are and what they want.” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “Where’s Maria?” “She left,” I answered. Then we heard sirens, and there was a knock on the door.

He held us tighter as he led us out of the house. A couple of houses were on fire. My front door and back door were completely off their hinges. 5 of my windows were broken and someone had trampled through the flower garden. Adaline threw a fit when she saw someone had stomped on her peonies. I laughed and looked up, Jackson was back and just staring at us like he didn't know what to do.

It was fun. Taking out my phone, I called the familiar name and waited for him to answer. "Yes?" Alessio's voice was oddly blank. He lost the love of his life a few months ago, I wouldn't blame him. What happened to him and Thea was unfair, really. I felt bad for him. He had been broken before, with that Liza or something like that girl. Apparently, she was working for the Mexican mafia and was also cheating on him. My brother lost it that day, he tortured the girl right in front of me in the worst ways possible. I remember taking part in it as well by cutting her fingers off one by one.

I know this texture, it feels so familiar… There, as a light flashes across my mind, I pick up the key pendant and flip it over. There, a name engraved on the surface of the shank reveals itself in front of my eyes. It takes my breath away——the name engraved on the key… … Is Iverson. “... Isn’t this…” I stop breathing, and my brain stops functioning in an instant——isn’t this the heirloom of the Iverson family? Didn’t I give it to the girl under the white moonlight seventeen years ago? It has been missing since then, but how did it…

The crystal housing shattered around the space where the Key had floated, and as it did, Elara felt something shift far beyond the walls of this chamber entirely. A warmth bloomed against her ribs, the First Key, fixed forever into the Quinn estate fireplace, answering across hundreds of miles. Beside it, a second pulse, steady and familiar, the Second Key, still resting untouched beneath the ash where she'd left it. And now, warm in her own hand, the Third. Three Keys, joined at last, though only one had ever physically left its place. Somewhere deep beneath Blackwood, a sound rolled through the facility that none of them had heard before, enormous locking mechanisms, ancient and long dorma

In the series of houses, there stood a vacant house. It was made of stones arranged in a pretty thoughtful manner so that the pieces fit together, just like tetris. It had thatched roofing and clay tiled. On the front door, there marked a number with a white chalk, '13'. “Is this the house?” Alex enquired. “Should be. Number thirteen, same as the key number.” Leo said, looking at the key in his hand. “It's old and shabby.” Alex remarked, taking a gander at the house.

"What is this?" "It's the redundancy," Thirteen answered for him. Her voice was a dry, rasping echo of mine, unused for what looked like years. She stepped into the blue light of the console, her bare feet leaving damp, clinical prints on the obsidian. "He couldn't decide which version of you he loved more, so he kept us all. He’s been harvesting the best parts of our grief to build his perfect queen."

I edged closer, breath caught behind my teeth. And then I saw it. On top of the folder, a key. Silver, old. Too heavy for its size. The teeth were jagged in a way that wasn’t standard cut, but deliberate, almost carved. Beside it, a single sheet of paper. I didn’t want to touch it. My fingers hovered above the note like the words might burn through my skin. But I read anyway. Four words. Damian’s handwriting. “Third key. Third choice.” My heart stopped.

The other key-children start filtering in, all of them drawn by whatever frequency these cosmic beings operate on. Soon all nine are gathered, eight keys and one wild card, staring at each other with glowing eyes. “This changes everything,” Marcus says through the connection they all share. “The ninth key breaks the pattern,” Adrian adds. The children speak in overlapping voices, their words blending together. “Eight keys, seven seals, one master.” “But nine keys means the math is wrong.” “Means the seals won’t open the way they’re supposed to.” “Means we have a chance.” Tempest raises her hand and silence falls.