Sat cross legged on top of Mr Crocks, Bob was holding two full bags of shopping while they travelled through the sewers. Before long they entered the basin and could see Marlo lay down and deep in thought. With his elbows on the ground, and his hands supporting his chin, it seemed like he was trying to imitate a girl thinking about her crush.

  The sight made Bob disgusted.

  To Bob's relief, Marlo sat up when he heard him approaching, a smile on his face, with his black and rotten teeth showing.

  "Took ya damn time!...Did ya get everything? I'm surprised that kid actually showed up, he must be blinder than me!"

  Bob ignored the provocation and plonked the carrier bags down at Marlo's feet. While he was rummaging around for something, he replied to Marlo.

  "He was already waiting for me when I arrived. He was asking loads of questions about how I live, even asked some weird things, like what my favourite colour is.....Kids are strange these days....Anyway, have you thought about what you're going to write?"

  Bob held out a pad of paper and a pen, then proceeded to prod Marlo in the stomach with it. Taking if off him, Marlo placed it down and flipped to the first page.

  "Tsch, he was probably terrified of how damn ugly you are, ya scared him out his wits, evil bastard!...And yeah I know what I'm writing! Now get the pen, ya writing for me. I'll be the first to reply to little Rebecca"

  Bob was about to string together some insults, when he realised why Marlo wanted him to write for him. Even so they spend every day together, Bob often forgets that Marlo is blind, just from how well the skinny old man gets along with his life.

  Taking a seat next to Marlo, Bob gripped the pen to start writing and then realised something, the pen was not in his hand.

  "Huh?"

  The pen had slipped out of his grip. Trying again, Bob now understood what the problem was, he had claws instead of fingers, and found it impossible to grip a pen with them. Another problem also arose within his mind, he forgot that he had never actually written anything before, although he understood the language, and had the memories of the Human he ate, his physical body had no memory of it.

  No physical ability to hold the pen, no muscle memory of writing, in finality, he was screwed!

  Just before Bob could fall into a melancholy of uselessness that was rivalled only by Marlo's inability to see, Mr Squeeks stepped up. Grabbing hold of the pen, he stood on his back legs and deftly manoeuvred the writing implement, much to Bob's surprise.

  Not wanting to admit defeat to Marlo, Bob chose a different strategy.

  "Marlo, I'm going to let Mr Squeeks write the letter for you. I need to sort all this stuff out we bought. Just tell him what to write"

  Quickly leaving them alone, Bob jumped to his feet and took the bags away. Marlo had not spoken at that point, apparently being in deep thought. While stroking his chin, with flakes of dirt making their way loose, he looked down and spoke to Mr Squeeks.

  "Okay rat, I guess Rebecca might like the idea of ya writing the letter. She'd obviously prefer Marlo the Magician, but whatever.....Now listen well and make sure ya handwritings good, ye!.......Dear Rebecca, the sewers aren't the same without you....."

  After a few hours, and going through several sheets of paper and draft copies, the letter was ready. All neatly folded and secured within an envelope, Mr Squeeks set off on his journey as an undead mail-rat.

  Moving through the sewers, the envelope was held firmly within his mouth. Running along the side of the sewer pipes, he easily avoided the water that ran through the middle, being very wary of getting the letter wet.

  When Mr Squeeks was only a lowly rodent, his intelligence was severely lacking. Although problem solving by utilising repetition was common in rats, that form of intelligence was merely that, a form of it. He lacked a self of sense, an understanding of who he was, and his place in the wider world. Never did the humble rat believe, that his death would finally open his eyes.

  As an undead rat, he shared a portion of his masters intelligence, and through this, Mr Squeeks's ego was born. The same strange principle also applied to Mr Crocks. Never before had an undead, a creation of a Human Necromancer, developed an ego and been able to act and think independently of their master. The mere thought of such a thing, of developing a personality, would be regarded as tomfoolery.

  Yet, this is what happened.

  Travelling through the darkness, a multitude of red eyes appeared one after another, all of them scrutinizing the lone rat. Mr Squeeks did not waver in the slightest, for it was a scenario that happened every time he ventured out on his own. Letting out a series of muffled squeeks, he greeted the pack of rats.

  Among the rats were some of his old family, yet with their limited intellect, they could not recognise Mr Squeeks, especially now his smell was completely different. What the pack of rats did recognise though, was that the lone rat carrying a letter, the rat they often see, was very powerful compared to them. The rats respected the strong in their hierarchy, but still sometimes they would swarm the strong with weaker members. This strategy did not even cross the rats mind, as they knew full well it was folly.

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  Leaving them behind, Mr Squeeks followed the scent trail back towards the manhole that led to Rebecca's house. Just before he turned into that specific tunnel, his sixth sense was triggered. Freezing in place, he involuntarily cowered, not even daring to puff out his fur and pretend to be dominant. Mr Squeeks was aware of a presence, or more precisely a presence that had lingered there some odd days ago.

  The monsters scent was still in the air, a scent that reeked of blood, an insatiable appetite, and more importantly, a deep malice. Inhaling deeply, Mr Squeeks recognised part of the monsters scent, an invisible thread of blue that was intertwined with the evil energy that had pricked his senses. Marlo's drug, Mr Squeeks recognised the scent as the same as the crystals he smokes daily. What this actually meant, Mr Squeeks had no idea, possibly the monster also partakes in smoking drugs....Although he doubted that guess.

  Shaking his body and throwing off the fear, Mr Squeeks bolted into the tunnel and up the metal ladder in the space of a single breath. No sight of the monster showed itself, with no evidence of its presence either. At least that was what he thought at first.

  Now above ground, Mr Squeeks paused for a moment and turned to look at the hole he just climbed out of. A dull thud sounded out, before the noise of hard objects scraping by one another, slowly vanishing into the distance.

  A myriad of fine cracks radiated outwards from the manhole, with a couple of places slightly raised. A fine scattering of dust and dirt was ejected into the air. He had an inkling what had happened, and deigned to tell his master when he returned.

  Scurrying towards Rebecca's house, Mr Squeeks was happy no Humans were about, and also no wayward cars or moody cats set their eyes on him. Although dealing with aggressive cats was simple enough, it still required a stand off and exuding a killing intent that betrayed its small stature. Each time this scenario had happened in the past, it had been more than enough to send the cat sprinting away and seeking therapy.

  Climbing onto a first floor window ledge of the house, Mr Squeeks laid eyes on Rebecca's mother, well, a woman he assumed was her mother. Sat at the table, she was listening to the radio, while focusing on a newspaper in front of her. Instead of reading the articles, she was deftly cutting out the coupons and adding them to a burgeoning pile of the little lifelines.

  Leaving the sight behind, Mr Squeeks dug his claws into the brickwork of the house and ran up it vertically. Thankfully the route he took led him directly to Rebecca's bedroom window. The moment he perched himself on the window ledge, an excited little girl saw him and rushed over, opening the window and taking him inside.

  "Mr Squeeks!...You weally came, I'm so happy!"

  Holding him aloft, Rebecca span around gleefully while making excited noises, that thankfully failed to notify her mother. Placing him down, she retrieved the letter he was carrying, and replaced it with one she had already prepared. The moment she did so, a thought suddenly hit her.

  "Erm, Mr Squeeks, do you have to go now? Ermm I made some, hmm, maybe we can play?"

  Obviously being unable to talk, Mr Squeeks answered with his body. He dropped the newly acquired letter, and stood on his hind legs, giving a salute with his tiny claws. Rebecca was ecstatic, she was worrying that she would be turned down, that he would be in a rush, but instead he was willing to play with her.

  Rebecca dropped to the floor and began reaching underneath her bed. A minute later and she found what she was looking for, a large sewing box that had been hidden behind a pile of clutter. Opening it up, she stole a glance behind her at her bedroom door, after confirming it was still closed, she removed a handful of items.

  "Ta-da! I made these, you'll look so pwetty!"

  Mr Squeeks looked at the assortment laid out in front of him, a series of hand sewn clothes made specifically for him. There was one problem, they were all dresses, and Mr Squeeks was, well, a Mr.

  Then again, he was a rat, an undead one at that who had no concept of shame, or embarrassment, and so he went along with Rebecca's request quite willingly.

  Now adorned in the third ensemble Rebecca had created, the undead rat looked like a noble lady from an alternate timeline, where rats were the dominant species. A bright pink and white frilly dress, with a matching bonnet completed the set. All that was left now was for Mr Squeeks to parade up and down at the child's whim, and strike numerous poses for the photo shoot.

  Rebecca was holding a battered digital camera, that had a cable going to an equally battered printer. A fresh picture came out of the bottom, adding to the pile of Mr Squeeks exclusives. The noise of the printer going back and forth had an unforeseen effect, it hid the noise of the door.

  Mr Squeeks suddenly stopped moving and fell on his side, imitating a stuffed animal. Rebecca looked on in confusion and was about to ask what was wrong, until she saw a shadow come over her. Turning around, she immediately saw her mother looming over her. Rebecca shuffled across the floor to try and block the view of the undead rat, even so it was far too late to hide the little creature.

  "Ohhh what's that Rebecca darling? Are you playing dress up with your dolls?"

  Letting out a confirmatory hum, Rebecca looked sheepishly at the floor, while inwardly she was panicking. Her mother leaned down and reached out a hand to pick up the supposed doll, but Rebecca was faster and grabbed Mr Squeeks, clutching him to her chest.

  "Ohh don't worry darling, I wasn't going to take it off you...I didn't know you had such a shabby looking rat doll though. Do you want me to wash it for you, it smells kind of dirty?"

  Rebecca's eyes went wide and she quickly started to spurt out a reply.

  "No, no Mama! It's weally okay! Mr Squeeks is clean"

  Rebecca's mother began to look concerned, pulling her face awkwardly, even her fingers were slightly fidgeting. Replying in more of a quiet manner, she sounded apologetic.

  "If you say so......Hey Rebecca, even so money is a bit tight at the moment, you know I can still buy you a new doll if you want one?"

  Rebecca did not reply, instead opting to gently nod her head. Her mother spoke again, deciding on changing the topic.

  "The dresses you made look really nice, you're getting better and better at it! I'll get you some material next time I'm out for your, hmm, rat doll"

  As she spoke the last words, her face twitched involuntarily, something that her daughter did not see. Rebecca looked up at her mother, a beaming smile on her face as she thought of the different dresses she could make for the undead rat that she was currently clutching to her chest.

  "Thanks Mama! I weally love you!"

  "I love you too my little princess"

  With those words, Rebecca's mother left the room, shutting the door behind her. Instead of immediately leaving, she rested her back on the door, listening to her playful child through the door.

  "You hear that Mr Squeeks, isn't Mama the best! I can make you lots and lots of new dwesses!...Yay!"

  With a smile on her face, Rebecca's mother walked away while muttering to herself.

  "I really need to find a better paying job"

  Several hours later, Mr Squeeks was now only clad in his fur, and had left the happy child behind. Running through the sewers, he held fast within his mouth the envelope that contained the letter Rebecca had poured her feelings into.