Thousand-year Door Troubles Novels & Stories

I say. "The compound of doors," she says. "Every person who has come through that gate has come through a door that was already there, built specifically so that it could be found and used. Irina's door. Gregor's door. Nadia's, Petra's, Théo's, Sera's, Mila's door." She pauses. "Elsa and Greta's door, if it opens." She looks at me. "We do not own the doors. We just build them and keep them open." I stand beside her at the south wall and I look at the territory, clear and cold and solid, exactly as it has been every night of the seventeen years I have stood at this wall and looked at the thing I built.

"The housekeeper foundthe door locked from the inside an hour ago. He never locks that door." Andres caught my hand as we walked, and for once I did not pull away, mostly because whatever was happening now felt bigger than the argument we still owed each other. The study door was solid oak, old fashioned, the kind installed a century ago when doors were built to survive fires and small wars. Tomas, who had insisted on driving separately with what he called, without a hint of irony, his emergency kit, examined the lock for exactly four seconds before shouldering it open with a grunt that suggested this was not the first stubborn door he had ever met.

They were too serious and are not even smiling just to ease the tension. "Of all things, why was the food of the Gods growing there? It could be just the gemstones." "The energy used by the creator of that place was too strong that it was enough for extraordinary things to grow." "Well, it was strong enough to open a connection with the parallel Universe. We have to seve-" Kahlil was not able to finish what he was saying when they heard consecutive knocks on the door. Azrael told them to not bother them since they are going to discuss some important things but it seems like some of them did not understand it. He was about to tell them to leave when the door opened which was quite offensive g

Lilo and Joanne remained beside Granny Rafflesia. Gulp! Granny Rafflesia took a pill. After she consumed it, she sat with her legs crossed to recover slowly. After taking a look around, he did not find anything special. Finally, he looked at the stone door behind the stone platform. The stone door was also made out of Chinese White Jade. It was luxurious. The stone door was shut securely. When he pushed it, nothing happened. 'So there is still a mechanism with this door,' he murmured. It only took him a short while to locate the mechanism after carefully examining the two sides of the door.

Taking the steps three at a time. By the time she caught up to me I was already behind my bedroom door locking it. She smashed into the wood door with a loud grunt. I cracked up laughing knowing that the door hurt her more than she hurt it. All the doors around the house are reinforced solid oak doors made specially for our supernatural strength. There has only been one to break down one of these doors and that was HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED. Her little fist pounded on the door. I ignored her giving the misconception of being mad at her.

The door’s surface was engraved with intricate patterns, including the triangular symbols they had seen on the machine and in Haverstone’s journals. “This is it,” Emma said, her voice filled with quiet awe. She reached out, brushing her fingers against the cold iron. The patterns seemed to pulse faintly, responding to her touch. Dr. Crane examined the door closely, his sharp eyes scanning the symbols. “There’s a mechanism here,” he said, pointing to a series of small notches along the edge. “We’ll need the keys.”

She stated in disapproval. “There was no specific time!” I exclaimed in disbelief. “There is always a specific time, follow me,” She quipped and closed the door behind her. I guessed the meeting was not taking place in her office. I sighed and followed her down the long labyrinthine hallway until we reached a large wooden door with images of wolves, runes and other creatures carved in it. It was so detailed that I felt like one of the creatures could come to life and jump out to attack me. The door was three times our height and the walls around it were made of old bricks, like the ones used in medieval times.

was tucked inside Raven's jacket, its little head poking out, its amber eyes watching the chaos with what looked like amusement. Smart cat, I thought. "...and the water! On my runes! Do you know how long it took to inscribe those runes? Do you know how old that door is?" "Morwenna." "...centuries! That door has been standing for centuries! And now it's..." "Morwenna." She finally stopped and glared at me. And I waited. She crossed her arms. "Well?" "The girls will apologize." "I don't want an apology. I want..."

The portraits hanging on the walls seemed crooked now, their painted eyes almost following movement. Servants gathered fearfully in clusters. Some prayed. Others cried. One guard crossed himself repeatedly beneath his breath. “What happened?” I demanded. The older maid pointed with trembling fingers. “The doors, my queen… they locked on their own.” I looked toward the corridor. Three massive doors had sealed shut. Not bolted. Not chained. The wood itself had twisted unnaturally, vines of black veins spreading across the surface like living roots beneath skin. I slowly approached. The whispers returned immediately.

"Each door holds a truth. Some are small. Some are large enough to swallow you. You must pass through seven to reach the door behind the door. But be warned. The truths behind the doors are not merely memories. They are living things. They have grown in the dark. They have become hungry. And they do not wish to be disturbed." Eliana looked at the twelve doors. Some were closed. Some were ajar. Some seemed to breathe. Door number three, painted a deep ocean blue, was rattling on its hinges. Door number eleven, black as a starless night, was weeping. The sound of it was a low, rhythmic sobbing that matched her own heartbeat. "Why seven?" she asked. "Why not all twelve?"