Assassination Classroom Watch Novels & Stories

Even though I still know that the person in front of me is the one I saw hanging Nate’s corpse inside of the classroom last Friday on prom night. The culprit is holding a knife, “Rule number eight,” the murderer said to me, “Kill the witness,” the criminal said, and the perpetrator stabbed me in my left eye and my lower left abdomen, which made me weak even more. …………………………………………………………………. Patrick’s POV I am here in the condo unit of S; he is sitting on the sofa while I am on the chair. He is wearing a black mask that has no face. I told Teacher Lincoln to go here in his condo unit to keep him safe, and this case is needed to be solved privately because the suspects in this are students.

He suggested, which was surprisingly helpful. I thanked him and left his office. I couldn’t go to the security lounge right away because I had class to attend. Once it was over, I was in the lounge, asking for the footage. However, I was disappointed when the footage didn’t show Willow. Instead, it was a bunch of guys that I couldn’t tell who they were because they were covering their faces with their hoodies. I could tell they were from Leo’s class because one of them was wearing the same basketball jacket that Leo had at lunch earlier. Thanking the security for their time, I dejectedly went back to class.

“Watch it.” I didn’t sit. I didn’t speak. I watched. Image by image. Frame by frame. My jaw locked somewhere between the first photograph and the second line of text. By the time the hospital footage flickered to life, something colder than anger had settled into my marrow. Precision. Access. Intent. This wasn’t a random intrusion. This was architecture. When the screen went black, I didn’t look up immediately. The image of Alessa, unconscious and vulnerable, being watched by a ghost, played on a loop in my mind.

"Front and center! Let's see what the new Death God is made of. Attack me!" I scan the brightly lit, wide-open arena. Zero shadows. Zero cover. A tactical nightmare for a former assassin. But honestly? Trying to sneak up on an eight-foot-tall giant in broad daylight sounds exactly like the kind of stupid, chaotic fun I live for. I lick my teeth, dropping into a low, predatory crouch as my dark energy flares to life. Up in the spectator stands, the elite students of Class 1 are watching me like hawks. "She looks pretty fast," I hear one of the upperclassmen whisper, nudging my vampire roommate. "Did you guys just go easy on her in the cafeteria?"

Two of them grabbed Ethan’s unconscious body with clinical precision. “Step back!” one barked. Students froze. Within seconds, Ethan was gone. He was carried out and the door shut. Professor Halvern cleared his throat shakily. “Class dismissed.” Just like that. Like a student hadn’t just dropped like a corpse in front of everyone. Grey stood frozen. His mind racing. How the fuck did they know? The room had no cameras. They’d been smashed months ago by horny idiots who kept sneaking back after lectures to grind against desks and think they were being rebellious.

I owed her a proper conversation and explanation. Liam volunteered to accompany me to the classroom, his hand finding mine as we walked across campus. I could feel the watchful presence of the security team that Carlos had insisted follow us back to school. They were discreet, dressed like regular students or maintenance workers, but I had learned to spot the telltale signs - the earpieces, the way their eyes constantly scanned our surroundings, the coordinated movements that spoke of military or security training.

Try to look like responsible students instead of four people who just spent an hour thoroughly debauching each other. My phone buzzes as we're heading out. Morrison. Morrison: Found something on the security footage. Need you to come identify someone. All four of you. Me: When? Morrison: Now. It's important. I show the others. "So much for class," Amaya sighs. "This could be the break we need," Luciano says. "Finding out who's watching us." We pile into my car and drive to Morrison's office. He's waiting with pulled-up footage on his computer.

one of the guards grunted, slapping handcuffs on his wrists. From the bed, Elara sobbed, holding her cheek, the foam pad sitting on the table next to her like a silent judge. Mrs. Thorne collapsed into the armchair, wailing for a legacy that was dead before it was born. And somewhere across the city, in a high-tech office, Vespera Vane watched the police scanner feed on her monitor. DISPATCH: ASSAULT IN PROGRESS. ST. JUDE'S HOSPITAL. SUSPECT IN CUSTODY. Vespera took a sip of her tea. "Double tap," she whispered.

“He suddenly wants to meet with all the skilled assassins of the Nameless.” I frown. “Which means whoever he wants us to kill this time is a big shot.” “Exactly,” she explains. She stops at the entrance to Hades’ chambers, giving me a tight smile. “Well, good luck,” she waves. I nod. Hades sits on his chair, looking all high and mighty with that snarl on his face. He locks eyes with me the second I walk in—and so do the other assassins. Realizing I got here late, I lower my head, feeling everyone’s gaze on me.

" After that, Sean immediately left for Beverly High School. Fortunately, it was Saturday, and school was out. Therefore, there were no students or teachers in the school. The assassinator took Blake to the fourth floor of Building A. Her hands and feet were tied behind her back, and she had fallen unconscious. Although the explosion hadn't harmed Blake directly, it had still had some impact on her. The assassin was an Orwallian man. He was robust and had a three-inch-long centipede-like scar on the left side of his face, which made him look ferocious. He stared at the unconscious Blake. There was murderous intent lingering in his blue eyes.