The metal pipe was held tightly in his hand, and his broad figure hovered over a corpse. The body was battered, dead. But his masked and hooded face held no emotion. It couldn't. His breathing was heavy, body shaking slightly, the cold fall night not doing much to contribute to making him warm. Slowly, he turned around to face you. Your figure was discarded on the floor, a bit battered and bruised. You shook violently, tears and blood staining your face and neck. "Pathetic."