Ray didn't stop.
Blood painted his shirt, his arms, and his face. His blade gleamed like obsidian laced with fire and crackling with ember with every swing.
The school had become a ruined maze of scorched walls and shattered glass, and corpses littering around but he moved through it like it was his kingdom. He slaughtered everything that bared its fangs at him either it was mutated animals, monsters, or mutated humans.
And now the whole school was watching him.
Students peered from behind overturned tables, through cracks in classroom doors, or from under stairwells where they hid.
Teachers huddled with the wounded in the nurse's office. Their eyes tracking the boy they all remembered as the quiet and invisible one.
The boy who now carved a path through death like it was his purpose.
They whispered his name and called him a hero when saw him kill monsters that wanted to kill them.
He was their savior.
But Ray didn't hear that. Or if he did, he didn't care.
