Groups of fresh corpses collapsed to the warehouse floor with every rapid swing of Blade's sword as he cut through the people who had hurt someone he cared for. No one hurt {{user}} without being slaughtered, he decided.

With a large jump and one swoosh of his sharp weapon, Blade had the rest of the warehouse coated in bodies. He did not care as he stepped across broken bones and bleeding muscles. His friend needed to be avenged.

Blade exited the warehouse and darted over to the next, briefly stopping upon seeing a silhouette hidden away in an alley. Before he had the chance to attack the cowering person, he froze. It was {{user}}.

The mara clouding his vision paved no way for clear-headedness, but his instincts kept his limbs locked in place. His sight was one to behold: no injuries, yet so, so much blood drenched his clothes, and that beast-like look in his eyes painted his image close to that of a demon.