Eleanor Lamb Bioshock Novels & Stories

"He’s not looking at a manifest, Jillian. Look closer." Jillian shifted those sharp, analytical eyes past the fuel slips to the guest docks, where a sleek, beautifully restored wooden sailboat from the opposite side of the cove had just moored. Standing on the deck, securing a heavy marine cleat, was a young woman with sun-bleached hair, wearing a grease-stained canvas apron over her shorts. She was the local shipwright’s apprentice from the northern ridge—Eleanor. Leo was standing on the dock just a few feet away, holding a clipboard, entirely frozen. When Eleanor looked up, wiping a streak of dark grease from her forehead and offering him a bright, unabashed smile, the brilliant young prog

My voice echoed across the hall. I was ready to finish it. I was ready to become the monster everyone thought I was. Then the door creaked. I turned. Eleanor was there. She was leaning against the frame, pale and weak, her simple dress hanging off her thin frame. She looked like she could barely stand. She didn’t make a sound. She just looked at me. Her gaze was a cold splash of water on a fire. The Shadow began to recede, melting back into my skin. I stood there, panting, my claws still hovering near the King’s throat.

The sight before me did not make me regret living for nearly 300 years. Eleanor's black eyes slowly returned to their original amber color. A few drops of my blood wet the corners of her mouth. Without taking her eyes off me slowly her tongue licked the remaining blood around her lips. All thoughts of restraining myself almost shattered at that instant. "Nicholas ... " Her slightly wavy auburn hair stuck to her cheeks, Eleanor looked like an angel ready to take my life. And I know I wouldn't mind. Unlucky. How can I survive this? I closed my eyes for a moment to gather the remnants of my defenses. I took another deep breath to calm myself down, but the smell of Eleanor that had mingled with

Zean growled, his heavy baritone voice echoing hoarsely throughout the entire underground port, radiating an extraordinarily pressing murderous aura. Right at the end of the cargo ship's gangway, the figure of Eleanor Novalie stood in an elegant gray satin trench coat, clutching a digital steel briefcase containing the entirety of her next-generation weapons laboratory research data. Her middle-aged face, which still bore traces of aristocratic beauty, now appeared deathly pale, filled with a deep line of panic upon seeing her entire troops slaughtered within hours. Eleanor attempted to step backward toward the ship's cabin door, but her steps instantly halted as the muzzle of a Glock pistol

“She’s not just pruning. She’s scorching the earth.” A new sound began—a low, rhythmic thumping from the elevator shaft. Not mechanical. Organic. Like a massive heartbeat. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. “What is that?” I hissed, my gun aimed into the shifting shadows of the shaft. “The core,” Eleanor said, her voice hollow. “She’s not just in the systems. She’s rewriting them. Making a body.” She fumbled at her console in the dark, her fingers finding a manual override. A single monitor flickered back to life, showing a horrifying thermal image of the elevator shaft.

She stands and I stand as well. “Show me and all will be revealed.” She walks out, and I stand there for a few seconds before I sigh and follow after her. Walking in silence, we enter the makeshift lab. Cody and Lucy look up and the team we have stops what they are doing. Some are in awe. Eleanor is a beautiful and strong woman. She may be a high priestess but is also an exceptional warrior. “Cody, I need the sample, please.” I say to him when he nods his head and walks towards the vault that’s under heavy guard.

She was so embarrassed that she wished she were dead at the moment. Her participation in the games was solely to get into Vitality Biotech Group. Eleanor, who loved biology since childhood, aspired to be as impressive as the founder of Vitality Biotech Group. But she had made herself a fool the night before by doing stupid things and uttering nonsense in front of her idol. She even used the dirty and malicious rhetoric she used against Rachel to describe her idol. "Eleanor, why are you hiding?" Aaron asked while consistently nudging her with his elbow.

The mahogany hair, the dark silk, the small, sad smile—it wasn't our daughter grown up. It was the Bio-Sync’s ultimate iteration. The one Eleanor Wolfe had hidden inside the Ledger of Intent. When I snapped the needle, I hadn't destroyed the ghost; I had given it the only key it lacked: the biological signature of our consent to end the war. "Where is she?" I asked, my voice dropping to a deadly, flat baritone that echoed the cold halls of the Sterling Tower. "Where is my daughter, Eleanor?" Eleanor Wolfe stepped out from the shadow of the Spire's ruined foundation, her silver hair catching the amber glow of the dying monitors. She didn't look like a defeated mogul. She looked like a woman w

And standing in front of it was Eleanor. She wasn't wearing a lab coat. She was wearing a simple, dark dress, her hair disheveled, her eyes sunken. She looked like a woman who had been living in a bunker for weeks, which she had. She didn't look up when we entered. She was staring at the glass cylinder with a look of terrifying, maternal longing. "She’s almost ready," Eleanor said. Her voice was a dry rasp, devoid of its usual melodic control. "The lattice is 98% mapped. She won't have your flaws, Isabella. She won't have the Sterling corruption. She’ll be the perfect archive."

i stutter There's a knock on the door and i quickly regain myself, push him backwards and arrange my scattered hair and he just smirks at me. Eulalia gets a well paying job at a very successful company but she doesn't know why she can't stop thinking about her boss and all the dirty things he could do to her. Constantine can't stop thinking about the little angel that works for him and beautiful her blue eyes are. He will stop at nothing until he makes sure that she is HIS.