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The sun made its presence known, shining through a bare window to the bare room inside. On an old mattress on the floor, a slim rat stirred. He opened one eye, glancing toward the source of the unwelcome brightness invading his privacy. He snorted, turning his head to get his eyes out of its direct assault. The warmth was welcome, though.

"A'right, a'right. I'm gettin' up, eh?"

Seth sat up and tilted his head from one side to the other, making his neck crackle. He stood slowly, joints protesting along the way. The rat was only in his early twenties (at least as far as anyone knew, he was never up-front about his age), but often felt twice that. Mother nature had not blessed him with a robust body, hardly more than a skeleton with grey fur stretched over it. His clothes hung on him like a rack at the store. Sure, part of that was his habit of going long stretches without food, but even by those standards Seth was rather gaunt. His eyes sunk into his skull. Around the Alley, the joke was that Seth had died a few years ago, but no one had bothered to let him know.

The rat dug one jagged claw into his nostril, breaking a scab loose that he inspected briefly. He made his way to the front door of his house, or at least the one he was currently squatting in, running one slim-fingered hand along the frame. There were holes and breaks in the wood, likely from various locks that had been kicked through over the years. Seth wasn't worried about that. No one was likely to try and rob him. After all, he provided such necessary services to his fellow rats.

"Notha day in paradise..." Seth muttered to himself, slipping himself into a jacket, picking up his shoulder bag, and walking out into Rat Alley.

The wind made Seth's long jacket flutter gently as he walked along the concrete sidewalk towards Hughes Park, his usual hangout. A quick check on his phone showed the time. Eight in the morning. It explained why there weren't many others out and about just yet. That was just fine for Seth. He never liked big crowds, nor were they especially fond of him. Not that the gaunt rat blamed them for that. If anything, he still found himself wondering why anyone ever spoke to him willingly.

Willingly, of course, being the operative word.

Hughes Park wasn't entirely empty. The central football field had no occupants, but along the edges were some younger rats playing games, older ones stretching their legs out on their way to get breakfast and complain about how things used to be so much better. They weren't wrong.

As for Seth, he dropped himself on a bench as far away from the crowd as he could manage, reaching into his oversized shoulder bag and pulling out an energy drink can and a half-empty bag of cigarettes, popping the tab on the former and pulling one out of the latter. He watched the others mill about, talking about nothing at all as though it meant everything. The rail-thin rat wasn't much concerned about them, though. The day was getting started, and that meant the shop was open. He didn't advertise, he didn't have a fancy sign. Customers knew where to find him.

"Oi, Seth!" came a voice to his side and faintly behind. As though the speaker was vaguely attempting to whisper.

Seth pretended not to hear the voice to his right at first, focusing on getting a lighter out of his jacket pocket and making a show of not remembering which pocket it was in.

"Seth!!" he repeated, with increased volume.

This time, Seth let the speaker know he heard. The rat turned his head a few degrees, his ears covering the rest of the distance.

"Ah. G'morning, Dougie."

The other rat fidgeted a few feet away from the bench, his muzzle wrinkling in obvious distaste, which only caused a tiny grin to tug at the corner of Seth's mouth. He pulled a draw from his cigarette and tucked it between his last two fingers, resting back on the bench with one booted foot resting on his other knee.

"Did you need something?"

Dougie didn't answer at first. He stood, unsure, his weight shifting anxiously from foot to foot and rubbing one of his arms with a dirty paw. He was a shorter rat than Seth, thin as well without being sickly, though his face rather worn and haggard. The fur atop his head was matted and greasy, his teeth more stained than the other's. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped around front and sat down in the available space.

"Heh, I mean, I was just wonderin', mate, if ya could, y'know, 'elp me out a bit, eh? I know I been short on cash, but ya know I'm always good for it, right? Eh?"

Seth glanced sidelong at Dougie. The way he tried to put on a friendly face, hide the desperation. The stink from his mouth. Despite the odor it brought in, Seth took in a slow breath through his nose, eyes going shut briefly. Finally, he reached into his bag once more. Seth had a tendency to go solely by feel, rather than looking inside. A habit he'd picked up over the years. Less chance of getting a surprise attack if your eyes aren't preoccupied. Once he found what he was looking for, Seth pulled the item out and offered it to Dougie.

"Er... wuzzis?" the other rat asked, awkwardly.

"It's gum, Dougie," Seth said with a flat voice. "Y' breath makes me wanna puke."

Dougie froze in place, unsure what was going on. Slowly, he reached out, pulling a stick from the offered pack. He freed it from the foil wrapping and put it in his muzzle, chewing.

Seth sat, unmoving and unblinking, until his benchmate took the offer. Once the odor was at least masked temporarily, Seth tossed the remainder of the pack in his bag. "So, ya think ya deserve a favor, eh? Not sure 'ow ya come to that conclusion."

The only sound that passed between the two was that of Dougie's teeth working the gum like his life depended on it. Seth wasn't big, he wasn't strong, and no one had ever seen him wield a weapon, but those who crossed paths with him knew better than to get on his bad side. Things just... seemed to happen to those who did.

Dougie swallowed awkwardly, coughing as he nearly sent the gum down in the process. "I know 'at, mate, an' I'm sorry, s'just been a 'ard week, eh? I's helpin' me cuzzo out near the rim wi' some mechanic stuff an' I'm gettin' paid soon but I need a li'l to 'elp me get through, y'know?"

Seth chortled. Everyone had a story. An excuse. A reason that they just couldn't do it right now. He shook his head faintly. "Well, Dougie. Y' caught me in a good mood."

The anxious rat watched as Seth's slender paw went back into the bag. He wondered what was all in there. How he knew what exactly to grab. What he might find if he ever got a chance to explore it. Not that he had much time to think about all of that, because in short order Seth's paw was back in view, this time holding what he was hoping for.

"Clonazepam. Zero point five milligram tabs. Should last y' the week. Right up t' payday."

Dougie barely waited for Seth to finish his sentence before he snatched the bottle out of the other rat's fingers. Opening the childproof top took some work, but his jittery fingers managed and he shook the bottle over his other palm, taking a few of the tiny pills and throwing them right into his mouth, swallowing without bothering to wash it down with anything. Somehow, that bothered Seth more than it should have.

"Yer a lifesaver, mate!" Dougie babbled, holding the bottle against his chest and quickly standing back up. "I promise, I'll make it up t' ya! I'll pay extra! Thank y', Seth, honest!"

The rat turned on his heel to leave, only to find himself suddenly stopped by a grip around his bare, dirty tail.

"...Seth?"

"Sit down, Dougie. I didn't say I was givin' it to y' free of charge."

Dougie swallowed. That wasn't something he wanted to hear. Part of him wished he could cough the pills back up and give them back. Say he could get by for a few days. But he couldn't. The shakes were getting bad and he needed his hands to stay still to work. He needed to calm down. Needed to be able to breathe. Now more than ever.

Slowly, reluctantly, Dougie lowered himself back onto the bench next to Seth. "What uh... what d'ya mean, mate?"

Seth, for his part, managed to stay unnervingly calm. He switched which leg was crossed over which, but otherwise barely moved a muscle. He took a slow puff of his cigarette, having almost forgotten it was there, before flicking the butt away into the grass.

"Oh, Dougie... tell me, 'ow well d'ya know Lewis Spencer?"

Of all the questions, that was not one that Dougie was expecting. "Er... I mean, I know 'im a li'l, mate. Washes dishes at Al's pub, right?"

Seth nodded. "Mmhm. Mister Spencer has been a bit of a thorn in my paw. He's gotten a tab quite a big longer than yours and it seems whenever I try to meet him to discuss repayment, oh... I just missed him. He just left. Bad timing."

Dougie's brow furrowed. The drugs were slowly taking effect and helped him to sit still, but didn't ease his mind. "Izzat right? So uh... y' want I should 'ave a talk with 'im? Get like a down payment?"

Seth snorted a laugh. "No... well, yes. In a manner of speaking. What I need you to do, my friend, is let 'im know that my patience is running thin."

The way Seth spoke made Dougie's blood run cold. "Wh... how do I do 'at?"

Much to Dougie's dismay, the answer lay in Seth's mysterious bag. As before, he casually slipped a paw inside, feeling about, before returning to view with one simple object.

"Seth!" he squeaked in alarm. "That's..."

"A knife," Seth replied. How that had been sitting in the rat's bag while he reached around without cutting himself was a mystery to Dougie, but for the moment he was more fixated on the object itself. It was a big blade. A kitchen knife. The kind that you'd use for...

Seth brought Dougie back to reality by idly flicking his claw at the knife's tip, making unnerving clicking sounds. "Yes it is. I'm glad your eyes still work, should make it easier to find our friend."

The weight of reality began to crash down on Dougie's head. "Seth, mate, I ain't a killa, I can't g-"

"Well then it's handy I ain't askin' ya to kill him," Seth interrupted. "I can sense you'd like this conversation to end as quickly as possible, so let me make it simple for you. The next time I see you, you will be 'anding me a piece of Lewis Spencer's tail."

Dougie blanched. He'd heard rumors of Seth's "unique" manner of collecting debts, but never imagined he'd be enlisted himself. Without even realizing he was doing it, Dougie was pressing himself to the far end of the bench, back against the metal rail.

"Look, Seth, er... whatever ya got wi' Lewis, tha's 'tween you an' 'im, eh? M... maybe I can tell 'im you're serious but I can't... I just ca-AWK!"

Before he knew it, Seth had grabbed a handful of Dougie's shirt and pulled him in, nose-to-nose. The taller rat's thin fingers were stronger than they seemed, or maybe it was just the surprise.

"Listen to me, Dougie," Seth breathed, his voice going lower. Calmer. Somehow, that made him sound more intimidating than ever. "The next time I see you, I will 'old out my paw, and you will place a chunk of tail into it. If it's 'is, then consider your debt paid. If you'd rather give me a piece of yours... I'm willing to extend your due date."

Calm as ever, Seth took the knife and thunked it flat-side against Dougie's chest. The nervous rat gripped it with both paws, wincing as the blade nicked his fingers but otherwise frozen in place.

"Get goin'. I can't be sittin' here jawing with you all day. Go go."

Dougie nearly tripped over the arm rest of the bench as he scurried away. Seth chuckled and sipped from his energy drink again.

"Sometimes I worry I'm too generous."

Seth rested his head back a moment, just letting the autumn sun beat down on his fur. It was just in that sweet spot between summer and winter where the days weren't too hot and the nights weren't too cold. He inhaled slowly, pulling in the air's crisp scent. He snorted to himself. Autumn. When the trees show off their bright colors and the world is so vibrant, all because everything is dying. He liked that. Ironic, like him making a living by selling death. Granted, calling it a "living" was... a bit of an exaggeration.

Gradually, the Alley began to bustle with more activity. Public schooling had long since stopped being a concern for most of the residents, so it wasn't a surprise that the sidewalks had been mostly barren until now. Time passed at a different pace for Seth the rat. He simply sat on his bench, watching the others go about their lives. He wondered about some of them. If the older ones thought they would end up where they were. If the younger had aspirations of leaving the Alley for good, or if they thought they could stay and "fix" this wretched place.

Seth snorted to himself, watching a few young ones playing football in the field. "If you lot get th' chance, run away and don't you dare fuckin' look back."

Time tended to pass at a different rate for Seth, as if he existed outside of it entirely. Hours, days, weeks, none of those words meant anything. Just yesterday it was last year, and tomorrow he might be an old man. Most of his days were spent in various corners of the Alley, watching, observing, but rarely participating. That was fine by him. Seth had never felt much identity with the other rats of the Alley, no solidarity, no loyalty. He was here out of convenience, or maybe just laziness. The outside world didn't strike him as much more appealing.

"Mornin', Seth," came a voice for the second time that morning, followed by the light vibration of a bench being sat upon.

The rat turned to glance at its source, seeing a much less anxious rat that last time. Specifically, an older one with long, matted hair that was pulled back into a tail, a waistcoat with no shirt to give ample view of his oddly pudgy belly that clashed with how thin the rest of him was, and the usual jeans and boots combo to finish things off. He rested into the bench as casually as Seth himself, one arm slung over the back of it.

"Aye, an' beautiful as ever."

The other rat snickered dryly. "I see ya makin' sure t' get a nice, nutritious breakfast, too."

Seth glanced down at his hand, the near-empty can in his grasp with the now-extinguished cigarette butt between his fingers. Grinning right back at his friend, he shot a brief, sly glance over that way. "Oi, what'd I tell ya? Caffeine an' nicotine make protein'. S'just science, mate. Didn't ya learn 'at in school?"

The other rat laughed more earnestly. "No, lad, can't say I did. Probably why you're th' Alley chemist an' I'm just the postman. Speakin' of, got a special delivery for ya."

His attention more fully caught, Seth turned and watched his companion as he reached into a bag of his own and pulled out a large padded envelope that had been folded and rolled up, then covered in clear tape. He took it and snorted.

"Awwww, Noah. Ya remembered me birthday," Seth joked, using his glaws to pick away at the tape and open the parcel.

"Yeah yeah, just don't tell anyone I'm gettin' soft in me old age," Noah replied.

Seth reached inside to fish out the contents of the envelope. "I wish ya didn't talk about ya age like 'at, mate. Swear on me life, ya don't look a day past ninety."

It was Noah's turn to snort. "Keep talkin' like 'at an' I'll start chargin' ya a smartass tax."

Seth pulled a cell phone out of the packaging, looking it over. "It's all set to go?"

Noah nodded. "Aye, activated an' everything. Ya sure ya don't need more minutes? Can't imagine that'll last ya the month."

Seth absent-mindedly fiddled with the device, looking its plastic frame over, running his thumb over the screen. "Given th' choice I'd rather have zero minutes, but I don't feel like campin' next to a pay phone all day."

As he put his old phone into the same envelope and passed it over to Noah, Seth paused in thought. "Oi, whaddya do with these things, anyway, eh?"

Noah wrapped the paper up, put the tape back as best as he could, and tossed the whole thing in his bag. "Y'mean yer old phones?"

"Aye."

Noah laughed. "Li'l ways into town there's a couple-a techie shops 'at got like a donation bin outside."

That made Seth's brow lift curiously. "A donation bin?"

Noah nodded. "Aye, y' can dump old phones in an' they hand 'em out to low-income kids at schools or summin'."

It took Seth a moment for that information to process. He sipped the last mouthful out of his energy drink and hummed once. "So...lemme get 'is straight, eh. Yer sayin' there's a buncha nonnie kids out 'ere with phones in their pockets that the cops might be listenin' in on?"

Noah's grin widened. "Ya rather they be listenin' in on th' one yer actually usin'?"

In a rare moment, Seth laughed. A nice belly laugh, even. "Oi, mate, yer not allowed to talk about 'ow much of an evil cunt I am ever again!" He shook his head. "I c'n see it now. Some poor li'l kitten sittin' in 'er bedroom textin' a boy she likes, cops kick th' fuckin' door in."

Noah joined him in the laughter. "Aye, li'l thing gettin' clubbed an' dragged out for drug dealin'!" He adopted a high-pitched voice, sniffling and mewling. "What'd I do? Mama!!"

The pair of them let their laughter fade off, settling into quiet again. After some time, Seth noticed a small commotion across the park from the pair of them. A crowd had gathered, and a fairly noisy one at that. It sounded like violence might be involved.

"Oi, Noah. Ya see 'at? Any idea wha's goin' on, eh?"

Noah craned his head up to get a better look. Though older than Seth, his eyes were still sharp. He squinted, trying to pick out any details, before letting out a snort of a laugh and relaxing back in his seat.

"Aye. Looks like th' Norwich boy is about t' throw paws."

That caught Seth's attention. "Izzat right? Y' think 'is sista got knocked up again?"

Noah snickered. "Don't think so, lad. Feel like gettin' a closer look?"

Seth mulled his options over. "Mmn... lessee... sit 'ere listenin' to you s'more, or go an' watch some poor cunt get 'is teeth knocked out. 'ard call."

The two rats shared another laugh and hoisted themselves up, slowly making their way toward the gathered crowd.

Just like Noah said, two rats were squared off against each other, their fists raised and the rats around them forming a makeshift boxing ring of sorts. Both were shirtless, showing off rather contrasting bodies. One a mildly above-average-sized male with a mop of brown hair between his ears and a soft midsection but still some muscle to his form, the other standing half a head taller with a body that looked like it had been carved out of oak, a wild blue mohawk proudly reaching skyward from his head. The former looked significantly less confident than the latter, and all around them were cheering rats, several of them holding up cell phones to capture the action.

"C'mon, Alfie! Knock 'is fuckin' 'ead off!"

"Ya got 'im, Caleb! Don't let 'im scare ya!"

"Someone just throw a fuckin' punch, eh??"

The larger of the two was clearly just toying with the other, grinning ear to ear as he jerked his shoulders to make his opponent flinch, circling around him. His movements were deliberate, lacking the hesitation the other had. The action finally started when the larger rat threw a quick jab that sent the smaller off-balance, and the fight was on. There was no technique, no careful training, just a pair of street rats throwing their limbs at each other with reckless abandon.

Alfie, with the mohawk, looked like he was having the time of his life. He threw occasional jabs and wild hooks, but mostly kept his arms up and let Caleb rain down on him. Seth snorted in amusement at the display. It was like Alfie didn't want to finish the fight too early. Maybe he was playing it up for the cameras, to put on a good show.

Suddenly Alfie stopped and let his muscular arms hang at his sides, bending forward and offering his chin to his opponent.

"Oi, free shot, c'mon lad. Gimme ya best!"

Caleb wavered, not sure if it was a trick or not. Around him the crowd roared, some laughing, others just cheering on the show. Despite being fairly sure Alfie was baiting him, Caleb threw a haymaker at the bigger rat with all he had, knuckles crashing into Alfie's skull enough to leave Caleb's paw with an ache that would last for days.

Alfie, meanwhile, hardly budged.

The crowd let out a loud moan and the massive rat laughed. "Thassit? Ya mum kissed me cock 'arder 'n that last night!"

With that, Alfie started fighting without holding back. Thumps and slaps of his fists catching Caleb in the gut made Seth's muzzle wrinkle up, and it wasn't long before a few well-timed blows to the head sent Caleb to the ground. Alfie threw his arms overhead while a smaller rat nearby clapped him on the chest and another jumped onto his back, the group of them laughing. Down in the dirt, Caleb's eyes were unfocused but still open, and his snores were just loud enough to be heard over the din around him.

"Tha's 'ow a fuckin' Alley rat fights!" Alfie barked at one of the phones pointed his way, holding his fists up into frame.

"Left paw puts ya in 'ospital, right one puts ya in the ground!" he boasted, eliciting another wave of noise from those around him.

Once the show was over, the crowd quickly dissipated. A few rats paused to help Caleb come back to the land of the living and gave him a pair of shoulders to put his weight on as they walked away, likely toward the pub, Seth figured. While the rest all went their separate ways, he and Noah stayed put for the moment, just ruminating over the performance.

"Well lad, think that was th' most excitin' thing we'll be seein' all fuckin' day, eh?" Noah laughed.

Seth nodded, dropping his empty can on the ground and stamping it flat. "I think yer right, old man. Gonna go get y'self a nap, eh?"

Noah glanced over at Seth. "An' here I's gonna ask you th' same thing, thought maybe ya wanted me t' tuck ya in an' read a bedtime story."

Another beat passed between them before Seth reached into his bag and retrieved his cigarette pack, popping one out and lighting it up. "Think I'll go fer a walk, mate. Business t' get to."

Noah ran a hand over his head, as if smoothing his hair back. "Ehhhh, yeh, Santa needs t' pass out a cuppa more presents," he said, starting to walk off. "Lemme know if ya need anythin'."

Seth patted his bag, beginning his own journey away from the park. "Sure will."

As the pair parted ways, Seth swiftly made his way back to the shadows, so to speak. He kept himself as out of notice as he could, not wanting to attract any attention if he could avoid it. When he stopped to get another drink from the corner market, he didn't exchange a single word with the short old man at the counter. He sipped and smoked as he walked, passing up Al's Pub, the usual hangout for the Alley's miscreants. Inside, he heard the usual drunken rabble, passing it by to set up shop elsewhere.

Another bench located, Seth deposited his bag and his form upon it. It was still early, but he knew it wouldn't be long before he heard those familiar words. The Alley never changed.

"Oi... Seth?"