The shots graze across his leg, his side, but they don't seem to even draw a flinch. Why would they? There's no way the thing in front of her is actually alive, as broken as it appears to be.

Still, it pauses long enough to consider her question, before...

I'm you, but stronger.

He manages to keep a serious tone, even holds that serious bent for a second or two longer before snickering, a noise that sounds garbled. Neck injury? It's likely, along with everything else. Heh, sorry. Couldn't resist, you going all serious on me. You wanna know who I am? You should ask my partner.

One knife tips, pointing just over her shoulder.

Who's right behind you, by the way.

The way he says it, there's no reason not to believe it.