"Jason! Jason! Where is that bastard?!" Alex roared, his voice slicing through the bustling hallway like a blade. His anger radiated from him like a storm, sending nearby students scurrying out of his path.
In a fit of uncontrollable rage, he lunged at a younger boy standing nearby. Grabbing him roughly by the collar, Alex slammed him against the cold metal lockers with a loud metallic clang that echoed throughout the corridor. The boy gasped, fear widening his eyes.
"Where is that idiot? Where did he go?" Alex demanded through clenched teeth, his face inches from the boy's, his breath hot with fury.
The boy stammered, struggling to form words as Alex's grip tightened. His knuckles were turning white, and his intense eyes gleamed with dangerous intent. Just as the boy was about to break down, Jack, one of Alex's friends, intervened, placing a cautious hand on Alex's shoulder.
"Hey, Alex, calm down!" Jack said, his voice firm but slightly nervous.
Alex turned his head sharply, shooting him a glare so fierce it made Jack instinctively take a step back. For a brief moment, the hallway stood still, tense as a wire about to snap.
Jack hesitated under Alex's furious gaze, then stammered, "H-he's on the roof."
Without another word, Alex released the boy, letting him drop like a rag doll. He spun around and stormed off, his boots echoing with every determined step as he made his way up the stairwell. The tension inside him only grew as he climbed, each step feeding the boiling rage inside him.
Finally reaching the rooftop door, Alex slammed it open with such force that it banged against the wall. The boys hanging out on the rooftop turned abruptly, their conversation cutting off as they came face to face with the storm brewing inside Alex.
His eyes locked onto Jason, who was leaning casually against the railing, laughing along with a few friends. In a heartbeat, Alex closed the distance between them.
Without a single word, Alex's fist shot forward, landing a brutal punch directly across Jason's cheekbone. The impact sent Jason sprawling to the ground, his laughter replaced by a cry of pain. He clutched his face, rolling over, his expression twisted in both confusion and agony.
"Who the hell are you?!" Jason barked, spitting blood from his mouth as he tried to regain his composure. "How dare you punch me? Do you have a death wish?!"
Alex's response was silence, but his eyes said everything—cold, merciless, and unwavering. Before Jason could fully rise to his feet, Alex's foot swung into his ribs, sending him crashing back down, gasping for breath.
Jason's friends quickly rushed to intervene.
"Get him!" one of them shouted.
The first boy lunged at Alex, aiming to tackle him from the side, but Alex sidestepped with precision and landed a sharp elbow to the attacker's temple, knocking him sideways into a pile of crates. Another boy grabbed Alex's arm, trying to restrain him, but Alex twisted violently, breaking free, and delivered a vicious uppercut that sent the boy staggering backwards, nose gushing blood.
"Stop it, man!" a third one shouted, charging toward Alex with both fists swinging wildly. Alex ducked under the first punch, then stepped forward, slamming a brutal punch into the boy's solar plexus, folding him in half. As the boy gasped for air, Alex grabbed his head and threw him to the ground.
Jason, groaning, finally managed to push himself upright, fueled now by both pain and rage. "You bastard!" he screamed, charging at Alex with a clenched fist, throwing reckless punches in a desperate attempt to land a hit.
Alex dodged each strike effortlessly, his movements controlled and precise, like a predator playing with its prey. Jason's swings became more frantic and wild, leaving him completely open.
Taking advantage, Alex stepped inside Jason's reach and drove a brutal punch into his stomach, causing Jason to double over in agony. Not giving him a moment to recover, Alex followed up with a heavy knee to Jason's chin, sending him crashing backward once more.
Jason's friends, though battered and bruised, tried to help him once again, but Alex was like a whirlwind. One after another, he knocked them down with brutal precision—one got a sweeping kick to the legs that sent him flying, another received a crushing hook to the jaw that instantly dropped him unconscious.
Within moments, all three boys were sprawled on the ground, moaning and defeated.
Alex stood over them, chest heaving, fists raw and bloodied, sweat dripping from his brow. The rooftop was silent except for the groans of the fallen.
Suddenly, another voice spoke behind him.
"What the hell happened here?" A tall, older boy, likely from the senior class, approached cautiously. "What did you do?"
Alex remained silent, his breathing heavy, his fists still clenched. The older boy stepped closer, placing a hand on Alex's shoulder, trying to assert control over the situation.
But Alex's patience had run thin.
With lightning speed, Alex spun around and delivered a brutal punch directly into the older boy's face. The force of the blow caught him completely off guard, and he stumbled back, holding his jaw, his eyes wide in disbelief.
"You'll regret that," the boy growled under his breath, his pride bruised as much as his face. He glared after Alex, vowing silently to take revenge.
Alex didn't care. Without sparing another glance, he turned and walked away, leaving the rooftop littered with broken bodies. The wind blew softly against his back as he descended the stairs, his anger finally beginning to cool.
Meanwhile, the tall boy stood frozen, looking at his friends lying unconscious and beaten.
*Who is he?* he wondered, watching Alex's silhouette disappear down the stairwell. *How can someone so young, so small, possess that kind of strength? That kind of fury?*
The mystery of Alex had only just begun
Alex walked slowly down the empty hallway, his footsteps echoing softly against the cold tiled floor. His chest heaved with each breath as he struggled to cool the storm still raging inside him. The fight was over, but his blood still burned with adrenaline.
Reaching the restroom, he pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside. The room was silent, the flickering fluorescent lights casting a dim, uneven glow across the cracked mirrors and stained walls.
He approached the sink, his fists still clenched, his knuckles raw and crusted with both his own blood and that of the others. Slowly, he opened his hands and stared at them. His skin was torn, his veins still pulsing under the surface, his fingers trembling slightly from the aftershock of violence.
Turning the faucet on, he let the cold water run for a moment, watching as it spiraled down the drain. He placed his hands under the stream, flinching slightly as the water stung his torn skin. The blood washed away, swirling red patterns down the white porcelain sink, disappearing as quickly as it had come.
Alex exhaled deeply, his breath fogging the mirror. For a few long seconds, he simply stood there, letting the cold water run over his bruised fists. The image of Jason and his friends lying on the rooftop flashed in his mind, but he pushed it away, focusing on the water, on the coolness, on calming the fire within.
He looked up at his reflection in the cracked mirror. His face was tense, his eyes sharp, but behind that hardness was something else—an emptiness, a weight that never seemed to leave him.
Another long breath escaped his lips. His heartbeat finally began to slow.
For now.