I'm in hell and i'm taking you with me

The clockmaker examined his watch. The time was 11 'o clock. He sighed, brandishing his spring trap and cleaning it of blood. Behind him stood Puck, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Messy..." He muttered, burying his face in the clockmaker's jacket.

"There's no time to clean it," he muttered. "They'll find the body in the morning. You know how it goes."

"You know..." Puck took one of the clockmaker's coattails, "once this is all over, I'll get to stay, right?" The clockmaker didn't turn around.

"Of course," he breathed. "Why would I kill you?" Puck hummed and pushed off.

"Just asking," he said. "Now," he pulled the clock hanging from the other's neck on a golden chain, "it's almost daylight. We don't want to be seen near the body, now, don't we?"

The clockmaker hesitated. He leaned back and put an arm around Puck's shoulder, and they walked away, the rising dawn light creeping onto their shadows.