Life Is Strange Blackwell Academy Mga Nobela at Kwento

"You really think you're the first to dangle a shiny leash and talk about needs?" Timothy's voice cut through the room like a serrated blade. He leaned back against the cold mahogany of the bedpost, his fingers digging into the duvet. Gideon Blackwell moved into his space, his bulk blotting out the light from the hallway. Those gold eyes, rimmed with the dark legacy of the Blackwell line, didn't blink. "You’ve never had a real high, Timothy. Not the kind that makes you forget your own name. Don't you want to know what it’s like to actually lose control?"

No one outside the Academy would know about the death—the school kept a pristine image. Thane stared at a report from the criminology department, cursing under his breath. The new boy had been involved in murder. This was why he wanted to see Ethan La Rosa. Marlene’s scandal with him confirmed he was trouble. When Ethan said he would honor the invitation later, it proved the boy had a mind of his own. But in Blackwood Academy, nothing was as it seemed. Thane entered the prison cell. “Welcome, Mr. President,” the boys greeted.

He even schemed with Charlie to seduce me. It was unbelievable! He planned a trap within a trap! I put his phone back in place. I had met Charlie's wife before. Her name was Diana White, and she was beautiful. She and Thomas were classmates, and they had gotten along well. However, they supposedly lost touch after getting married. It turned out that instead of losing touch, they had simply moved their connection to the bed. An idea came to mind. I remembered the date they were supposed to meet at the hotel.

I stared at Adrian, still trying to figure him out. My brain refused to process anything. My room… but not my house. My bed… but not my street. My posters… but definitely not my peeling ceiling. It felt like stepping into a parallel universe sponsored by a billionaire with too much money and absolutely zero boundaries. I slowly turned back to Adrian. He looked annoyingly calm, like people reconstructed entire bedrooms from memory every day. “Mr Blackwell, we are not close enough for me to invite you into my room, right? So how do you know what my room looks like?”

] [May all your plans work out perfectly. [Live long and stay healthy!] [May everything work out perfectly for you!] … They were the notes William and I had left behind, one by one, in different corners of the city. And then, internet sleuths uncovered another account. The username was 'GimmeThatResurrectionScroll'. It contained only one post—a short video with text and audio. [You made it. If we never meet again in this life, then I hope today is kind to you. Tomorrow too. And every day after—always.]

"Eleanor, have you thought this through? This project requires total isolation. Once you head off, you won't be able to see your family." Jonathan Hensley's words pulled me back from my thoughts. My eyes were still damp. A lot had happened at home these past few days—nothing everyone at the institute didn't know about. I, Eleanor Shaw, was a fraud. "I know this incident has hit you hard, but you shouldn't act rashly. This concerns your life."

“What do you mean?” “I need something strong.” Melissa dropped her handbag on the arm of the couch and made her way into the kitchen with her stained blazer. She dumped the blazer into the washing machine, then went in search of the strongest drink they had in the fridge. Shutting the door of the fridge, Melissa came face to face with Emily. She sighed. “I bumped into him.” “Who?” Emily frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t know his name. The stranger.” “What stranger? Of course, we just moved to this city, everyone is a stranger.”

Mom stormed off in frustration. “Haha! You’re losing it, Camilla! You’re picking fights again,” Minda shouted after her. I had more questions for Minda, but she excused herself and refused to say more about what she revealed regarding Kate. I decided to head home as well. CHARLOTTE POV

He was all alone. And I was here, in a stranger’s world. No. Not a stranger. Sebastian Blackwell. The man who hated me. The man I just married. I inhaled deeply and I came out of the car. They were guards, dressed in black suits standing by the gate. They looked at me, and I nodded once, and opened the gate. They didn’t even smile. I walked past them and my legs were shaking. A maid opened the big giant door. She wore a black black uniform. She didn’t say hello. She just turned and walked inside.