[ Once, John would have known— felt? tasted? he has no term in English for that sense— the shape of the corruption in this man's mind or soul. But he has not been that creature for a long time. He has tried so hard not to be. He is trying now to be a person, small and limited and mundane.
So he recognizes the danger only by the sound that hitches Jayce's throat, the clang and clatter of the display case going over. When Jayce looks up at him, John's expression is frozen with alarm. He is already backing away, tensed to run. Arthur, he's thinking, something is wrong—
Then the fucking hammer unfolds, bares its livid heart at him, and John knows death when he sees it. ]
no subject
So he recognizes the danger only by the sound that hitches Jayce's throat, the clang and clatter of the display case going over. When Jayce looks up at him, John's expression is frozen with alarm. He is already backing away, tensed to run. Arthur, he's thinking, something is wrong—
Then the fucking hammer unfolds, bares its livid heart at him, and John knows death when he sees it. ]
Fucking hell— [ he snarls, and runs. ]