Assassination Classroom Wallpapers Novels & Stories

Everything from the ceiling, painting, chairs, tables and teacups in the room were all white. Plastered on the white walls were picture frames of different sizes of people, some of whom Casper had known in the past, some he had heard of and some he didn’t know. He concluded that they were the people grandpa had killed in this secret chamber. However, he was least afraid and never regretted his decision.

Then there is me, not that I fit into any of those groups. Walking through the hall to my first class, Minnie talks my ear off about the latest work we are doing, entirely too excitable for a Monday morning. The people lining up outside the classroom all take a good look at me, interested in the new person invading their territory, sizing me up. The classroom is average, with pale aquamarine walls, rows of glossy wooden desks sitting neatly in perfectly proportioned rows, colourful posters displaying tips and tricks stuck neatly around the room, and a large, clean blackboard standing behind the teacher's mahogany desk. Of course, you cannot forget the large clock hanging by the far wall in b

They would have to find an entirely different apartment, purchased furniture once again, even find a new school to enrol—he was scheduled to start in two days. He wanted to stay with Aunt Judy, start his new school in the next few days, find new friends and have as many guests over in his brand new apartment, finally living alone do the first time. As much as he was afraid, the fury was starting to overshadow it; he didn't want to have to lie to his parents while he fled the city, afraid of an outcome that may never even happen. Besides, why would a mafia assassin yakuza want to murder newly senior high school student Nate Kennedy? Out of all they most likely had to deal with?

Bullet casings littered the floor, evidence of countless hours spent perfecting their deadly art. As Emine continued her exploration, she noticed a corner dedicated to intelligence gathering and analysis. Here, assassins pored over maps, blueprints, and surveillance footage, piecing together the puzzle of their targets. Computer screens flickered with encrypted messages and intricate algorithms, highlighting the basement's connection to a vast network of information.

I murmured to myself, shaking my head with a bit of sadness with the way things turned out to be. “If he was, you wouldn't even last long.” My wolf whispered to me. I pulled in a deep breath and decided to walk around, admiring the room. To one side of the room, a floor-to-ceiling window offers panoramic views of the academy grounds, with thick, blackout curtains for privacy. Specific corners are dedicated to a study area, featuring a mahogany desk, high-tech communication equipment, and a holographic map table, allowing for strategy sessions in private. Shelves display an array of antique weaponry and medals, signifying the accomplishments of those who have studied here before.

Too good. I’m not sure how I missed all of this last night, but if I’m being honest, the explanation probably involves the most dangerous mouth I’ve ever trusted with my dick. Or his ass. One of the two. The ugly yellow-and-blue floral wallpaper is still here, which surprises me. I doubt Alessia would approve. But the art Jesus. The art changes everything. The hallway is lined with photographs. Large. Moody. Men and women suspended underwater, naked or nearly so, wrapped in flesh-toned silk that coils around them like secrets. Each piece feels intimate. Personal. Like something you’re not meant to look at for too long.

CAMILA By the time the first bell rang, I already understood one thing clearly. Lunaris Academy was beautiful—but it was not kind. The classroom was carved from pale stone and dark wood, sunlight filtering through tall arched windows etched with ancient runes. Desks were arranged in tiers, each seat engraved with symbols tied to a student’s race. Wolves sat together, radiating confidence. Fairies hovered near perches built into the walls. Witches clustered with stacks of spellbooks. Vampires lingered at the back, half in shadow.

It was a massacre. The room was trashed, desecrated by gigantic claw marks bigger than what any wolf could have left and through his friend. Obscene symbols, painted red, thick black smudges, painted on the walls. It was an abomination of deformed, ritualistic butchery, painted to look like that of some horrific supernatural being. Backwards, his wolf started snarling in shock and horror, receding and receding until Thane backed away. Not this. This kind of killing was not what he had signed up for.

Lucian exclaimed, and she shrugged. “We’ll let them handle whatever the outcome of their decision is. The only thing we can do is protect ourselves. We have cause to believe that this isn’t some serial killer on the loose; it might be…” She trailed off and closed her eyes. “It might be what?” Lucian probed, and I rubbed my forehead nervously. “Ahgne Kaih,” she replied, and I frowned. “What’s that?” I asked, and she pointed to a painting on the wall. It was a mural depicting war and bloodshed. I stared at it intently as she answered. “A group of trained assassins.”

"The Alpha cannot follow her inside the women's restroom. She will be alone for at least three minutes." The assassin nodded slowly, a terrifyingly calm smile spreading across his pale face. "A physical attack is too loud," The Wraith murmured, pulling a small, thick glass vial from his coat pocket. A swirling, dark purple liquid bubbled inside it. "We use a localized aerosol. I will slip into the ventilation shaft directly above the powder room." "What is that?" Clara's father asked, staring at the vial.