《MIDDLE GROUND》25
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A hidden doorway. It could just be a closet, but by the rather unique look of the door, my best guess is that it holds secrets that Oisin would rather keep concealed.
I should trust him. Maybe just ask him and he'll spill the tea on it.
But if I let him know that I know, I may never get another chance at seeing where this leads.
The metal shelves are stacked with bath salts, extra shampoos and conditioners, toilet paper, but mostly towels, which have been depleted. I quickly move everything off the shelving so I can move it out far enough for me to sneak by. I just need enough room to slip through the door.
Seems like Oisin uses this door often because the selves are on wheels. I didn't notice them until it was time to pull the shelving from the wall. This makes my decision easier: I have to open the door now.
The tiny brass rose doorknob turns easily in my hand. The only sound is the lock moving from the socket when I first turn the knob - not even the hinges squeak. How often is this door used?
Pulling it open, I sidestep into a room that seems familiar to me.
It's cold, no fire lit and is of course windowless like the other rooms on this floor. It matches Oisin's room size but the layout is different. So the bathroom was at one time shared, but with who?
The stone walls have roots popping out, even some fungi and moss. It smells like a damp forest. It's almost as eerily silent as one can be as well.
Large intricate oriental rugs line the floor, tattered and torn. They look to all be rich reds with purples and highlights of gold. I can see the light coming in from the hallway door and from the bathroom. A few steps further in and it's too dark to see anything.
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"Did you get lost, lass?"
Oh shit.
"Just curious..." I slowly turned to see Oisin in the doorway, one that is too small for him, only his back is lit, but I can tell from his tone he's not happy.
He moves into the room and turns on the light.
Because we are in the 21st century and have electricity. Duh.
Looking around I see 2 large wooden tables that look like they are straight out of an old timey science lab. Cabinets from floor to ceiling with mainly clear or brown glass bottles with various items and liquids in them. A step ladder that looks in need of repair stands in between one of the large tables and the wall of cabinets. The other large wooden table is a replica of the first and is next to it but horizontally, making a nice large desk area. Handwritten pages cover part of the desk and at the foot of them are multiple journals. Some are stuffed with extra pages popping out. The hallway door is on the opposite wall. Near the bathroom where I came in, there is a brown whicker table and 2 matching chairs with dusty looking cushions that might have once been white but aren't at the moment. A lone tea cup and saucer left on it. To the left of where I came in I can see hooks with various robes, a few have designs on them of what looks like butterflies and flower petals, a delicate transparent one needs no explanation, and a few silk ones ranging from warm oranges to deep purple, similar to the dress I wore to the werewolf party.
There is a lounge chair that looks well used. Did this person nap or faint often? Maybe she wore coresets...
The fabric of the pillow, a jacquard fabric is adorned with golden frills, matching the golden bolts holding up the same fabric on the chaise lounge chair, although the green is more worn in certain areas. The wood is unsurprisingly a red hue with a shiny lacquer.
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The same wood makes up the queen sized four post bed at the other end of the room. It's up against the wall, so that means someone was sleeping alone or they were very close with the other person in the bed. Intimate even since one would have to crawl over the other to get out of the bed. The white sheets look a bit musty and the heavy luxurious wine red comforter and pillow covers look like they haven't been moved in years. A small circular pillow looks like it's made out of the same martial and in style as the lounge. And a matching nightstand, dresser, and closet sit unopened with little do-dads and an old gold and frosted white glass lamp. The room has had above head lighting installed like many of the rooms. They remind me of those long rectangular lights in office buildings and schools, but these are less harsh on the eyes. A few standing lamps around turned on when Oisin flipped the switch. He must have had them installed so he could come in here without the need of a fire or candle to light up the room. The fireplace is outlined with markings into the stone - possibly ancient symbols or ruins. It's on same side of the wall as the head of the bed, which makes sense if I think of this as a lovers quarters at the end of the underground hallway.
I can sense love, joy, excitement but also great pain, loss, and depression. My nose picks up on the smell of a candle burning out. Tears fill my eyes and I wrap my arms around myself. Large arms come around me and I feel as though my heart has been torn from my chest. I gasp for air, feeling Oisin's tears dropping on my skin, his mouth muttering something in Gaelic between wet kisses on the back of my neck and shoulders.
That's when I pass out.
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The First Corridor of Old Works
But what is it, really? Old Works. They say, some do anyway, or would, if they still had tongues - it's a dream. That it's a million year old mystery connecting three planets. Some, yet other, anonymous entities, charge that it's a structure, more accurately, an architecture - a quest, even, made from, and through - corridors. Pretty inarguably, for one thing, it's a maze. Even some pronounce, if you can understand those currently vomiting blood, that it's a corporation, and yet others - the brave ones – and dead - say it's... near death. Or that it is. Death. - Death itself. But that dark thing on the horizon, that thing emerging to replace the only system we... know. - Whatever it is it couldn't be the end, of everything, could it? Eminently possible, but - it couldn't be worse? 3 civilisations/3 planets... and Old Works. 4 heroes: The Cyclops seeing out his Eye the reality of that place - and by means of that vision - greasing the many-toothed gears of that great old churning nightmare. The Writer sweating to keep the story alive that supports the great old lying structure. The Fake King who abides among all those tunnels of dreams and lies and dreams and... slaves. And the Hero Dreamt, all those slaves - to maintain that structure's even functioning, have to - at all... they dream him. They literally dream him. But that thing, from whence, who knows, arriving? What kind of sick demonic mind could even - But it can only be psychosis - Or possession. Reducing all of reality to some kind of – what would you call it? A Game? A video... joke? And that half-Cyclops, that beauty – what does she have growing – beneath her supernatural genitals? A game for him? A game/a dream; a – world? Or just Old Works. And this Wound in reality – that our writer near-died putting inside her. What is it anyway? And what reality does it bring with it. This demon or God. Through the corridors; lattices of smoke and shadows and colours; dungeons; and supernatural organs; the labyrinths made from dreams... and flesh. - What happens when they face that Wound – staring the absolute. right. in. them? - Through - What happens to all us... slaves... then? But at the end of the hallway, you see it there, I say you do, that turning - It's only the First Corridor of Old Works. This finished 104,000 word kind of LITRPGy fantasy novel, the First Corridor of Old Works will be released in daily 2000 word chapters, or equivalent [unfailingly at 20:47 GMT] Immediately followed by the Second Corridor of Old Works [161,000 words, edited, ongoing, as of 24/09/21] At first lite on stats these LITRPGy elements will become increasingly - built meticulously upon what precedes - ubiquitous, as we proceed into a world painstakingly built to support these mechanisms. After - minimum - 6 months, this manic daily release schedule will be somewhat relaxed: 5 days a week. - But don't lie to yourself it's not there. That thing watching at the end of the hallway... and where it leads. It's - Of countless, it could only be - The First Corridor of Old Works.
8 192Field of The Dead
A world that has had the most deadly virus known to humankind unleashed and now the Living Fight the Dead to survive. This book follows a native man on the reservation dealing with the undead fighting to keep the ones he loves alive. But at what cost…. Will Terrance survive The field of the Dead.
8 112Gram Bloodfeast: Retired Warlock
Gram Bloodfeast was once one of the most powerful warlocks of his era. There was a time when he commanded armies of the undead, conquering anyone who he dared lay a path against. There was a time when whole rooms of people would go silent with insane, palpable fear at the mere mention of his name. There was a time when he was enemy number one, whole legions of skilled combatants storming his stronghold of ice and stone to take his head. There was a time when he decided, "I think I'm done." Gram Bloodfeast, is now retired, living in a cozy 2 bedroom suburban house. (Credit for the cover art goes to Phasmonyc) [Participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
8 82Cymech: A Sci-fi LitRPG
Still reeling from his previous mission, Gnath Fist must quickly get to know his new Mech Suit while managing how much Cyborg he becomes. His Mech engineers race to build him and upgrade a custom Mech while they set out on a new mission: To investigate a stalled space battleship of saber-toothed Solodons. The investigation is supposed to be diplomatic. It's supposed to be a mission of peace talks and security transitions. Book 1 is on Kindle Unlimited. Due to Kindle Unlimited requirements, only book 2 will be hosted here. Thanks so much for reading!
8 160Talius
The two moons of Talius gleam with a hypnotic glow; Araius with the color of a cooling blue, and Kranos beaming in a gentle orange. Arairus obscures Kranos with his enormous celestial body, letting Kranos peek out only halfway. This means that it's the month of Gantelos, the season of cold that hovers over Talius for half a year. It also notifies the residence of this planet that the dreadful Fuune will rise from the deep snow, deep from beneath the crust every night and feast on the humans who inhabit this tundra-infested world. Robin Dobi (c)2016All rights reserved.Any copies of this story without the permission or knowledge of the author is illegal. Those who commit this crime will be prosecuted!
8 183Seize the Sky
A missed opportunity...A second Chance....Justin McClain, a poor web-developer, is killed on the night he means to propose. Instead of dying he finds himself reborn into a child's body in a strange and alien world. Will he repeat his past mistakes or will he use his knowledge and Seize the Sky?This is going to be my attempt at a Wuxia/Xianxia/Cultivation Novel. I've been reading a ton of Chinese web-novels recently and Couldn't resist trying to write my own. This story will contain lots of action and martial arts and will most likely make the MC pretty OP, but that's sorta the point of wuxia novels. This is also going to be focused on pokemon like animals and will be somewhat along the vein of Long Live Summons although less haremy. It will contain mature content although I have no idea how much. Also, this is a secondary project for me. I've already got a novel on here I don't update enough so I'm treating this as a side project. Be prepared for very sporadic updates.
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