Indigo flinched slightly when a shadowy hand punched through the back of the truck and grabbed his head. At the same time, he felt an abnormally strong killing intent. [i][b]Well, this is bad,[/b][/i] he thought plainly as he was flung off the back, whipping out his Wind Needle in a split second. Twisting his body, he made a slashing motion at the ground with it to give himself the time to land on his feet. Mistaking the location of this guy was a critical error on his part. But Indigo had no time to think about what went wrong, as the man--more a monster--launched himself forward with incredible momentum and a crushing swing.

Indigo leaned backwards to avoid the huge blade, using one hand to punch it up and above his face, the other to create a cushion of air below him. Getting nicked by each strike during the assault, he realized that there wasn't really a pattern in the attacks. However, he laughed out loud when he realized something. It was like music to him: just an annoying, pounding rhythm. Every punch and kick was merely an additional beat between the swings. [i][b]So it does have a use![/b][/i] he grinned as the dodging became less and less difficult. Indigo quickly turned to his regular modus operandi: take hits and hit them more. He redirected each swing of the weapon with a nudge while countering with two more clawed slashes, taking fists and feet to the face and gut, but at no point slowing down; rather, the speed of Indigo's attacks eventually increased into a blur from his bloody semblance absorbing every drop that fell from himself and whatever wounds he managed to inflict upon his opponent.

The girl, the truck was suddenly forgotten by Indigo as his mind began to empty. In contrast to his previous, hateful snarl, the instantaneous swap into almost pure tranquility, very slightly tainted by not-so-slight bloodthirst, was much more terrifying. The Butcher had successfully, albeit only temporarily, reverted him into mindlessness. But unlike the past, unlike the half-Grimm in front of him, Indigo had no fury and would have found no joy in shedding blood; it was more like an insatiable wonder for it, amazement mixed with cruel curiosity. [i][b]"More..."[/b][/i] he panted aloud, staring at the figure before him. [i][b]"I want to see more blood."[/b][/i]