[For a moment, there is something in his eyes that seems to reflect something of horror at the sight of the blood he just spilled, along with twitching and shuddering. Not IT's horror. King's.

Then the shock dissipates, and the body relaxes, though the rhythmic twitching doesn't stop. It seems, indeed, that it has increased.]

You car̕ę?͘ ̧Oh̢, I'͡m̨ c͡ertain͏ ̢yóu͡ ̨m͏ust̷ ̀c͞ar̕e͞ a̴fter I̕ ͟just ̷s̢ta̢bb̸e҉d y͞ou͏ ̡i͢n͝ t̕he s͢t͜om̢a͟c̀h͏. A̶f͠te̕r ͘eve̴ry͟t͢hi̛ng ̢I ҉have͜ ͟d҉on̵e̡.

[An eyeroll, followed by a casual toss of the knife. Out in the open, it's clear, at least to Caleb, what knife it is.]

̀H͞o̷w stu̕pid͏ of́ y̕o̶u l҉ower ͞l͏ife͝f̵òrms.̛ I͏ kņow you al͝ļ ҉h̀ate ̡me. ͠Jus͞t give͠ įn̡ ́an͡d a͜dmit̢ ͞to hơw̴ y̶ou̢ rea̢l҉ly f҉e͢el.