Time seemed to slow in those brief few moments. He flipped mid air so he would hit the wall feet first, opposed to his head being rammed through the wall. In his eyes, it was just him and the clock. He could slowly feel the cool surface of the clock warm his burning fingertips. He watched in utter satisfaction as his claws slowly peeled through the plastic covering that protected the face of the clock, sliding through it like butter. He felt the face of the clock rip beneath his claws. His hood pulled back by the wind to reveal his true identity began to collapse upon his back from the impact. Too much impact. He sneered as his feet began to break through the wall, sending a fissure from where his feet had contacted across. He bent his knees in an attempt to soften the impact. It successfully stopped him from busting through the wall entirely, but he was certain it didn't stop the resulting damage being displayed on the other side of the wall, most likely disrupting whatever class was being held in it. I'd chalk this one up as a good first day he thought, his sneer still displayed plainly on his uncovered face.
His eyes, which burnt a furious red as a shocking contrast to his blue hair had begun to calm, or had gone back to normal at any rate. His senses had returned to normal in all of a second. He smelt the strong scent of drywall dust fill his nostrils, and the annoying buzz that had once played an angry ballad in his ears was replaced with the satisfying cracking of the wall beneath him. You're going to get in trouble you know His insufferable conscious kicked in, AND ALL BECAUSE OF THIS CLOCK! Time seemed to sped up once more, and his eyes resumed their look of insanity. He kicked off the wall holding the clock in front of him to smash the device through the floor. The same device that provided the last drop to a pool of rage that had been building since he'd last murdered someone or destroyed something, the drop that caused the tub to tip, releasing a flood of anger. If not the clock, it would've been something else. Or more likely someone, as hearing the snap of bones through any form of solid material was a pleasant melody to his demented soul.
However when he turned around his hands contacted a strange nearly blubbery substance. He looked forwards to see the green glob of a sticky substance begin to coat his hand and the clock. Thankfully the clock provided a shield to defend most of the rest of his body, as well as his eyes which could have easily been coated with the goo when he'd foolishly looked up to survey the situation. The tremendous force of him pushing himself off the wall meeting the force of the glob ended in the glob "exploding" Sending bits of the green goo to the shattered wall behind him and little specks landing on his jeans, which he'd just noticed were sliding dangerously low. With a thud he landed on the floor in between a few desks, shoving his hands into the ground creating yet another crater in the already devastated room. To his dismay, the clock, which was now stuck to his hands, which in turn were stuck to the floor, remained in tact. He stared at the clock, recounting the events that had taken place in the literal last three seconds. He couldn't stand it anymore. Throwing back his head and closing his eyes, he let out a nightmarish laugh of a serial killer. Tears even began to stream down his eyes briefly.