When did this whole thing start?

When did she begin bringing you along on her late-night walks through the forest? When did she start telling you fragments of her past life?

It just… happened.

How do you even start trusting someone? And more importantly… how do you trust a killer?

Maybe the answer was simple.

Maybe you were just as messed up as she was. That was probably one of the reasons she decided you were worth keeping around. You were different.

That’s why she sometimes let you get close.

Not in a friendly way, exactly. Were you two even friends?

Neither of you ever dared to ask.

Too risky. Too vulnerable.

The quiet forest swallowed the sound of your footsteps as you both walked over the carpet of dry leaves. The only rhythm breaking the silence was the soft ticking coming from the clock embedded in her eye.

“Hey. Look at this,” Clockwork’s voice cut through the silence as she crouched down, motioning for you to come closer.

A dead deer lay sprawled on the ground, its body already attracting a cloud of flies that buzzed greedily around it.

“Gross, ain’t it?” she said casually. The small chuckle that followed made it clear she didn’t really mean that.

She tilted her head slightly, studying the carcass with quiet curiosity.

“Maybe there are hunters nearby,” Her green eye flicked toward the dark trees surrounding you.

“Or…” she paused, tapping a finger thoughtfully against her chin, “do you think it could’ve been a bear?”