Todos os capítulos de The Boy who Circled Time: Capítulo 311 - Capítulo 320

They were all led to another, different hallway, lined with what seemed to metal boxes, not identical to the storage carriers that Gretel had seen when prisoners were transported different jails, or when you generally wanted to protect a person by any means possible by placing them in those almost completely impenetrable boxes. She tried to summon a more cheery application of their usage in her mind, to try and stave off the lurking and growing feelings of dread that were gradually beginning to consume her. She remembered once seeing a one of those arrive, attached to the bottom of helicopter, arrive within the central courtyard of her university, bringing along a semi prestigious doctor of sorts in a little show to rally up the students' enthusiasm and lift their spirits. It didn't work. Only a few students had actually recognised him and even fewer found it within themselves to properly engage with the display with any proper sort of enthusiasm that

Inside her little prison, Gretel immediately fell onto the floor and curled up into a ball, sobbing into her arms as she tried to hide her face away from the world around her and all the greys that she was seeing. She didn't want to see anything right now. She didn't want to even exist. She desperately wished that she was dreaming and that any moment now, she would just wake up and her mother would be leaning over her, one hand holding a warm mug of tea, ready to sooth her and provide a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen to. But no. She would never see her mother again. Gretel had spent her last few moments on a commute reading about a distant war and trying on outfits, and if she had know that those were her final stretch of freedom, she would have spent the entirety of it talking to the woman who had brought her into this world and then raised her. With a sinking, guilty, feeling, she realised, then and there, that she w

“Fine, hypothetically, and only hypothetically, if I do stay behind, how do I do the thing that you want me to do? I don’t have a floorplan. I don’t know how their computers work. I don’t know their language, and I have no way of combating whatever security implements are there,” Lila cried out, firing question after question in complaint and argument and throwing her arms up. “All those things would be valid counter arguments, if we didn’t have someone who manage to beat all those odds in our custody,” Tweedle Dum grinned back at her. “Do any of his methods not involve murder? Answer me that,” Lila hissed back at him, pulling her hands down below the desk. “Emmet’s not dead,” Tweedle Dee laughed at her. “Not on the outside,” Lila darkly muttered,” That man’s obsessed with Jasper. If Jasper wanted to burn down a building, Emmet’d be there cheering him on and helping him pour oil everywhere.” “And you’re not, Miss ‘He is the only reason that I

Emmet spent most of the day sat at the corner of the living room with a heap of catalogues that Lila had dropped by with at lunch time. She had smashed her fists into the front door so hard that it had been a minor miracle that the wood hadn’t been damaged, shoved all the books into Emmet’s face that she was going back to the café now, before running off again, giving Emmet barely a glance at her face. He still saw the trail of bandages that sailed behind her, wrapped around her neck and travelling below her shirt, and had moved to go towards her, his fears only assuaged when she had popped her head around the corner once more and had smiled at him. She flashed him what looked to be the old peace sign, before she had scampered off once more. If he hadn’t been in charge of keeping an eye on the oven, he would have followed her. Jasper had spent most of the day muttering to himself as he combed the house further for any other surveillance devices throug

The knife that Lila had thrusted forward had been dropped almost immediately as her wrist was grabbed. A horrible snapping noise echoed through the office, as Lila lunged over the table to punch the man, on the opposite end, in the throat. She saw her own blown out pupils in the reflection of his widening eyes, and she watched him crumple to the floor, choking on air. As dispassionately as she could, Lila slowly and calmly walked around the table, keeping a distance of over twice of her own height away from Tweedle Dee. “I’m not going to do what you’re asking of me. I’m not going on a little adventure and becoming your spy. And I’m not coming back home to give you exactly what you want, because, if you’re going to send me over there, I’m going to kill someone,” she explained to him. If she was in any other situation, she would have crossed her arms over her chest as she looked down on him. She was beginning to feel the pain of her wris