Under The Whispering Door Characters Novels & Stories

Almost climbed into the bed and pressed my face into the curve of his shoulder and whispered every fear until they dissolved against his skin. Instead, I opened the door. The hinges whispered like a secret. I slipped through and pulled it shut behind me. The soft click echoed like a gunshot in the silent corridor.

I grabbed my secret faded shoulder bag where I hid everything about my secret forbidden affairs with Chima and I found my journal and began reading when I heard whispers coming from in front of my door. I got up and walked toward the door with my ear pressed tightly into it. I was never the type who gets curious but that day my curiosity peaked and I needed to hear what my father was whispering to my mother but they weren't the only ones speaking in front of my door. There was another voice. One I barely recognized and what they were talking about had me rushing into the toilet and retching my innards out. How? They couldn't have possibly known. I'm always very careful.

My mind wandered in search of answers on who it could be knocking on the door at 11 o'clock until I remembered Vivian’s last words by the pool. Shit, Vivian! I crossed my fingers in hope that it was not her, as I quickly put on my house shoes and dashed to the door. I clicked the lock off, and turned the door slowly, as I peeped outside to see no one else but Vivian, standing outside Charlotte’s door. I cursed silently, as I attempted to whisper her name. She seemed to have gone deaf on me as she completely ignored my whispers, no matter how loud they got. As I took a step towards her, Charlotte’s door swung open, making me turn back quickly and head back to my room.

I drank a shot of tequila. My thirteenth, if I had not lost count of the last three hours. I tapped my forehead and wiped away the sweat before commanding my senses to allow my claws to appear. I walked towards the lady in front of me, kneeling and clutching her fist to her chest, obviously in pain. I sighed as I watched her eyes form tears but she was holding it in, alright. She looked pitiful. “Natyaramona,” I called her name, pushing her back to her senses while hoping she wouldn't die.

Nothing stirred. Then— A whisper. Faint, distant, curling through the hallway like a breath of wind. Cassian stiffened beside her. “Did you hear that?” Lena swallowed. “Yeah.” They followed the sound, their footsteps careful against the polished floors. Dorian trailed behind, his usual smirk replaced by something unreadable. The whisper grew stronger, pulling Lena forward—until she stopped in front of a door she hadn’t opened in years. Her mother’s study. A shiver ran down her spine.

Everyone said. “Good,” Haven said as she started to think of the easiest way to get out the doors. She went out of the doors, and two officers had to run ahead of her. She was calling out the directions as Mack pulled her hand back to him. He kept her next to him, knowing they had no real idea what they were walking out too. When she swiped the ID to open the last door with no alarms going off, she smiled at him. “Nice to know you made some friends here,” Mack said with a chuckle.

My books on his shelves. I picked up the silver bracelet he gave me on our second anniversary. “For my future Luna,” he had whispered. Future. I set the bracelet down carefully. Then I opened the wardrobe and pulled out a suitcase. Lyra stirred anxiously. Are we really leaving? “Yes,” I whispered. Because I refuse to stay where I am only almost chosen. Downstairs, I heard the distant rumble of a car entering the driveway. Rowan was home. For one fragile second, I hesitated.

It was real, alive, moving on the other side of the wall. Bliss stood and tested the handle. It did not move. The lock held firm. She pressed her hand flat against the door, feeling the cool stone vibrate faintly under her skin. The whispers had stopped. Silence returned with such force it made her ears ring. She turned and froze. A figure stood in the shadows near the shelf. For an instant she thought it was Damon, but the shape was smaller, thinner. The young servant girl stepped into the pale strip of light that entered through the vestry window. Her face was pale, her hands clutched at her apron as if she could wring safety from the cloth.

My head was starting to hurt for the multiple questions. I debated whether I should check what was going in in case there was someone that needed help. Another part of me said I should ignore it and mind my business. And I really wanted to go with the second one, but I guess, my curiosity got the better of me and I got up. Slowly walking to the door, I waited and leaned down, pressing my ear to the closed door to hear anything more. To be sure I wasn’t putting myself in danger. I heard whispers. They were speaking too fast that I couldn’t make out all that they were saying. It didn’t help that their voices were muffled still. And they had an accent. I knew it was more than one person because

The butterflies danced away inside while goosebumps raced their way up and down my arms just from the smoldering gaze I encountered as we locked eyes and for just a few seconds, time seemed to stop. He held out his hand for me and as I took it, he pulled me slowly out the door. I pulled the door back, leaving it open just a crack and leaned in to listen, to make sure Nate hadn’t stirred. Satisfied that I wasn’t hearing any sounds, I stepped away from it and back toward Owen. “Don’t worry. We are just gonna be next door here and we can keep the door open. If he wakes up and calls for you or comes out into the hallway, we can hear him.”