He roars in anger and pain, and spins his scythe, slamming it into the arm with the knife till he hears a sharp [i]snap[/i], the arm now with a brand new joint in the middle of the forearm, and punches John in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He kicks the ax out of his now limp hand, slicing it in half with his scythe. He looks up, his eyes glowing. "You'll regret that, [i]John[/i]." He uppercuts him in the jaw, actual lifting him off the ground a few inches. He clenches at the knife, pulling it out, and wrapping torn strips of his shirt over the wound.