As I was approaching him, I noticed that he's pissed off while talking to someone at the phone. I hesitated, towel in hand, waiting for him to finish ranting.
"Those fuckers clearly want to be tortured to death!" he shouted, his frustration palpable. He ran his blood-soaked hand through his hair, splattering more blood on the ground. "Once I see them again, I'll enjoy my time skinning their skins and gouging their eyes out!"
I thought I lost my hearing as he let loose a string of curses that would make even the most seasoned sailor blush.
"Mister—" I began, trying to capture his attention, but he was lost in his own fury.
"Calm down?! Do you think I can calm down?! Those son of bitches pushed me off a cliff just because they can't land a hit on me!" He rubbed his forehead, visibly agitated. "Whatever, just come fetch me here. I already sent my location. Better start moving or else I'll be venting my anger out on you," he snapped before ending the call.
