Assassination Classroom Wallpapers Novels & Stories

Memento The Teacher’s Common Room door opens to a surprise for Jaanvi, a pleasant one at that. The 20 X 20 feet room, known mostly for an insipid silence amid the vibrant din of the campus, gloomy tube-lights, antique ceiling fans, mammoth bookshelves along the walls, empty chairs and desks with books and notebooks scattered on them most of the day, while their occupants, the teachers, would be engaged in delivering classroom sessions, now looks packed with people – senior students, colleagues and support staff. Often synonymous with inactivity, except for tea-sipping, cookies-munching, lesson-planning, assignment-checking tit-bits of conversation spells among colleagues, this room is now bu

A secretary looked up from behind a sleek desk with the polished neutrality of someone paid to manage access. Gabriel gave her his most disarming smile. “Is Mr. Mortem in? I’m his son Aaron’s teacher — I have something important to discuss.” She made the call. He was shown through. The office made the lobby look modest. A mahogany desk the size of a small boat. A 72-inch screen on the back wall. The latest equipment, the best of everything, and along one wall, on illuminated shelves and pedestals, a collection of cultural deity statues that Gabriel estimated cost more than most people’s houses. He catalogued all of it in about four seconds and directed his attention to the man behind the des

The room was unlike any classroom I had ever seen before, with tall, arched windows that let in streams of golden sunlight, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the stone walls. The windows themselves had seemed to be enchanted, with their panes adorned with sophisticated designs-there were even seemingly monsters and angels- that danced and shimmered in the sunlight. It was as if they were alive, watching over the room with an otherworldly gaze. It reminded me of the windows of a Catholic Church. Had never been in one though, except in stories. The walls of the classroom were lined with bookshelves, filled to the brim with ancient tomes and magical artifacts.

Mia and Axel, entered their classrooms, ready to embrace the day's learning. As Mia and Axel stepped into their class, their eyes immediately fell upon Desmond, who had been assigned a different seat. They exchanged concerned glances, aware that the school had taken the drastic step of installing CCTV cameras in the classroom. The unidentified culprit responsible for recent mischief and disruptions had yet to be apprehended, and the heightened security measures sent a shiver down Mia's spine.

Day 6: I looked around the room and was frustrated by the lack of darkness and dryness. In my imagination, an interrogation room would look like this: a two-way mirror, a scratched metal table, a high-pressure light bulb in my face that makes me sweat. Instead, the room looked like a kindergarten classroom, with artwork and inspirational quotes plastered on colored paper hanging on the walls. I was sitting on a plastic chair, staring at Kudo on the other side of the round, faux-wood table in front of me.

**************** The cacophony of the Blackwood College hallway bled through the heavy oak door—a chaotic symphony of slamming lockers, shrill laughter, and the distinctive squeak of sneakers on linoleum. Inside the office, the air was stagnant, heavy with the scent of old paper. Adrian Vale sat rigid behind his mahogany desk, his knuckles white where he gripped the edges of the blotter. Across from him stood a female student, her posture eager, her voice a droning hum about extra credit and thesis statements that Adrian struggled to process.

Either the room had a makeover or Angela was drunk out of her mind when she told me this but this room looks like it was pulled from a Vogue Living magazine. The place is huge with high white ceilings and dark fluffy grey carpet. The pristine white walls are lined with endless plaques and certificates. There is even a portrait of Crescent Mane’s first Alpha hanging behind the principal’s huge mahogany desk. The group of men clad in black fence out across the room to stop any of us from escaping. To escape would mean not only death for us, but also for three generations of our family. So whenever a tribute is called, none ever dare to retaliate.

Eyes twinkling to the posh red carpets and the wide range of spacious wall designs that took the form of cement and designed it with lilacs making art named as power. "Yeah, I still get that look every time I come here to class," commented a girl with a shiny chestnut wrapped in a bun by a cute red bowtie and Rivulet colored eyes as she gave me a beaming smile, "it's rad here, you will enjoy it, new girl." She added when she saw my shy smile.

I slam into one of them and kick the other in the head, then twirl before the one with the knife can stab me in the neck. A gun cocking behind my head makes me stiffen. Nostrils flaring, I raise my hands and get ready to attack, but before I can, the man behind me falls unconscious onto the floor. Turning quickly, I spot one of my fellow Assassins, Phoenix, finishing off the last two men. The hallway looks like a war zone with unconscious bodies lying in various spots on the floor. As soon as the last man is down, we both face each other. “What are you doing here?” We both ask in unison.

I pulled Eleanor along but not before pushing out my tongue and showing of the face to Damien. ‘’Omg! Manners Cressida! What are you doing?’ My inner voice spoke in, scolding myself. We pushed through the mobbed hallways until reaching the classroom number 44. On entering, I saw how familiar it was to our classrooms on earth. The walls were painted with cream white colour. The ceiling had spotlights infused in it as they lightened the entire classroom. Vertical windows were lined up on the front wall, as we stepped in. Smart Board was attached on the wall at the right side of mine, instead of a white board or a black board. Quite high tech, I liked it.