Thousand-year Door Troubles 소설 & 이야기

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?"

Paolo also threw his weight against the door, making the door shake and rattle even more loudly than before. "Open the door! Open the door now! Those things are going to get us!" "La Signorina," Quinto's low, threatening voice was heard through the door. "You heard what happened to the other guy just now. If you don't open the door, you're going to die right after us!" They then stopped throwing themselves at the door and began targeting the door's weakest spot—the door lock. They kept attacking the door lock now as it was the most likely to break first, and their hammering only grew louder and louder with each strike. The lock visibly began wobbling.

"This one's been trying to get out for a very long time." Rook was already working on the blast door. His lockpicks were useless against the silver-reinforced steel, but he had brought charges, small ones designed to break seals without collapsing tunnels. "Give me ten minutes. This door is older than the Frostborn's fortress, but the mechanism is the same. Corvus used standard patterns."

Then: "Let's go get him." And beneath the distant mountain— ancient doors began opening for the first time in thousands of years.

At the end stood a massive black door. Unlike everything else in the fortress, the door remained untouched by time. Ancient runes glowed across its surface. Powerful magic radiated from it. The kind that made Nova's skin crawl. A prison door. The realization struck immediately. This was it. Behind this door. Behind centuries of secrecy. Behind all the lies and missing history. Kieran waited. The mark on her wrist flared violently. The runes on the door responded. Silver light spread across the stone. The entire fortress trembled.