The boys surrounded him in a loose circle, exchanging uneasy glances with one another because none of them had expected things to spiral this far.
Ken wiped at his bloody nose and stared at Graham with an expression that mixed confusion, humiliation and anger. One of his friends spoke first, trying to sound brave but failing to hide the tremor in his voice.
"Just finish him off, Ken," the boy said. "He is already tired."
Ken spat on the ground beside him, then glared at Graham. "You should have known better than to step in my way," he said. "You think you can embarrass me and walk away from it."
Graham tilted his head a little, his eyes carrying a sharpness that hadn't been there before. He wasn't smiling, yet his quiet voice carried more weight than any of Ken's threats.
"I warned you to walk away," Graham said. "I told you I didn't want trouble. But you're the one who kept coming back. You just didn't like the answer."
One of the boys stepped forward, shouting, "Enough talking." He swung a wild punch aimed at Graham's face, but Graham slipped sideways and brought one of the sticks down against the boy's forearm. The crack echoed loudly and the boy screamed as he dropped to his knees, clutching his arm while shouting curses between pained breaths.
Before the others could react, another charged at him from behind, trying to grab Graham's shoulders. Graham spun, raising the other stick upward in a fast motion that struck the boy's wrist. The impact made a sharp wooden thud that forced the boy to release his grip and stumble backward, yelling, "Oh God, my hand. Somebody stop him."
A third boy tried to ram into Graham the way one of the earlier ones had, but Graham braced himself and swung both sticks in a crossing motion directly into the boy's shin. The sound of bone meeting wood made several people flinch, and the boy collapsed to the floor crying out in agony.
Sophia watched from where she stood, her eyes wide and her hands still trembling faintly from holding the chair earlier. She whispered to no one in particular, "He is tearing them apart."
Hailey stood frozen, her voice little more than a breath. "I didn't know he could even fight," she said. "How is he doing this? He was just quiet a few minutes ago. Now he looks like he is ready to break every bone in the room."
One of the boys tried to help Ken stand, whispering nervously, "Ken, maybe we should stop. This is getting out of hand. This guy is insane."
Ken shoved him away, his face flushed with rage, and stumbled toward Graham while gripping a chair that he had picked up from the side. "I will kill you," Ken muttered through gritted teeth. "I swear, I will kill you for this."
He raised the chair high, but Graham moved before he could bring it down. With a swift motion, Graham slammed one of the sticks directly against the side of Ken's head. Ken's grip loosened instantly. The chair slipped from his hands and clattered against the tiles. Ken staggered sideways, dazed and confused, as if the entire room had suddenly tilted.
Another boy rushed in desperation, trying one last attack. Graham met him with a powerful swing of the second stick that struck the boy's mouth. There was a sickening mix of blood and teeth flying as the boy collapsed against a desk, groaning in disbelief as he touched his bleeding lips. The blood and teeth splashed on a nearby girl's face and exposed cleavages, she screamed in disgusting horror.
The classroom erupted in panicked murmurs and frightened gasps. Nobody dared step closer. Phones trembled in the hands of the students still recording. Even Sophia slowly lowered the hand that had been holding the chair earlier, realizing that the balance of strength had shifted completely.
One of the girls at the back whispered shakily, "Somebody has to stop him. He is going to hurt them for real."
Her friend answered in a scared tone, "Look at him. I don't think anyone here can stop him. He looks like he has snapped."
Graham stood in the center of the room with the broken sticks still clenched tightly in his hands. His knuckles were white and the veins along his arms stood out sharply as he breathed in heavy, ragged pulls. Every student who looked at him saw the same thing, a quiet boy who had transformed into something fierce and dangerous. His eyes were cold, and the anger rolling off him made the entire room feel smaller. Only Graham knew he was kind of enjoying this, letting off the emotional pain of the death of his parents.
Sophia swallowed hard as she stared at him, whispering to herself, "What happened to you, Graham? What are you holding in there that makes you fight like this?"
And she wasn't the only one thinking it. The entire class watched in horror, realizing that Graham was no ordinary student. The blood, the broken bones and the shattered pieces of furniture around him told a story that none of them would ever forget.
And Graham, with rage still burning under his skin, didn't even look winded.