FIGHT CLUB

From the [Eternal Chaos] fan-series.
Chapter 1: "Another Brick in the Wall"

Newark. Mid-October. Three months after the advent.

Newark wouldn't be so bad if not for the constant dreariness of the putrid, grunge-infested city. Smog, overcast, rain, heavy rain, a single, fleeting day of sunlight, more smog, rinse-repeat. What had it been, three months now? Ten weeks? He'd lost count. But hell, maybe that was for the best.

The crisp, mid-October wind encircled him, weighted down by the polluted grime constantly lingering within the city air. The overcast denied the ever-warm sunlight and threatened rain. The city's esteemed river - of which he swore he heard somehow caught on fire at some point - seemed to give the shady, deprived area even more of a chill. He shifted his shoulders, dark green scarf around his neck readjusting ever-so-slightly as it slaved itself to the crisp breeze, hands shoved in blue-jean pockets as he paced the city streets along the cracked and crumbling sidewalk, trash blowing along the empty pavement in company.

He hadn't been planning on staying this long. Well, none of them had. Not really. But for him, time wasn't something he was willing to just stand by and watch waste away. Unlike his so-called companions, it simply wasn't something he could afford, because unlike said so-called companions, he had a lifelong duty to fulfill. But regardless of honorable duty or not, here they were, stuck in an unfamiliar world within unfamiliar bodies and on their way to being kicked out on the street without a penny to their name. And oh how they'd learned how friendly a place Newark was. In other words, if someone didn't come up with something soon, they were all as good as screwed. Sometimes he wondered if he was the only one who ever thought about that.

He came to a stop, now standing in front of an old, dilapidated brick building that stood three stories high. The busted and boarded up windows were a common sight for the area, but somehow, someway, he'd come to find this particular piece of shit building as home. The sooner he could strip himself of such a useless sentimental value and find a way back to their real home, the better. It was just another reminder of how much time he didn't have.

The front door was always unlocked. Hell, did it even have a lock to begin with? The hallway was vacant and silent, aside from the footsteps of his own person thumping against the hollow, wooden floorboards. The stairs creaked each and every rotten step of the way, despite the deteriorating and discolored fabric so elegantly draped over it. The second floor hallway was just as barren as the first, but as he paced the coldness of the solitary expanse, he came to a stop in front of a door he'd become all too familiar with.

It only took a single, deflating sigh before the faded copper doorknob twisted and he entered the room without further reservation.

"Knucklehead! Hey, buddy, where've you been? Any luck on finding some leads?"

He should have guessed as much. Leave it to Sonic to immediately badger you with questions the very second you dare return to the only place in the entire city you know you won't get mugged or shanked while trying to get some shut eye.

The door banged to a close behind him. "It's the same in west side. No one knows anything." Knuckles replied with little mirth, shucking his jacket and hanging both it and his scarf on the coat hanger by the door. "And besides," He added, looking back to Sonic as he sat at the kitchen table, playing some sort of card game with Tails. "We have a bigger problem. The rent's piling up and we have no way to pay it off. At this rate we'll be searching for leads while sleeping in the subway station with the rats." And by rats, he more meant sleazebags begging for booze money, not actual rats. But yes, there were actual rats too. Plenty, in fact.

Sonic and Tails exchanged a look. One of those skeptical, somewhat concerned looks that spoke of both hesitance and some sort of vague, possibly pre-determined decision based on a pre-evoked conversation somewhere along the way. Funny how he was never present for those.

"Don't worry about it, Knuckles." Tails was the one to reassure with that innocent, friendly smile he was so good at expending. "We have another week. I'm sure we'll think of something by then."

The naïve optimism was almost too much for him to bear. He'd seen too much of this city - too much of this world and its people - to solely leave their fate on something as unreliable as hope.

"Oh yeah?" Knuckles had to challenge, irritation setting in. "You've found a job then? Because from what I've seen, there are none. This crummy city is dying." Hell, it was probably already dead. Would explain the smell anyway.

"Aw, c'mon. There's always something to do around here." Sonic offered with a lofty shrug, ever the backup for his BFF. "Something someone's willing to pay for."

"Hah," Knuckles couldn't help but laugh. Not in the cheery way, mind you. "Maybe that would actually mean something if you weren't the type to run around helping everyone for free."

Now, to be fair Knuckles was never one to criticize Sonic's altruistic side, but sometimes - just sometimes - he wondered how far the idiot would go when it meant he, his BFF, and everyone else he dragged along with him had to suffer for it.

And yet, Sonic could only offer back a cheery grin, that stupid, mischievous spark in his eye. "Hey, I'm the hero, remember?" He tossed back, thumb pointed back towards his fabulous self as he leaned in the barely-stable chair. "When people call on me for help, I can't refuse."

It warranted a sincere grumble from Knuckles anyway. "Well, hero," He laid in, rolling his eyes while approaching his two roommates. He flung a sack of unopened letters on the table amongst the cards, once stashed in his jacket pocket. "Maybe you can help with this then."

Sonic picked up the first unopened letter, flipping it over without much more direction than that. "Uhh..."

"They're bills, Sonic."

Sonic's emerald eyes darted up to his insistent, cross-armed informant. "All of them?"

"Not this one..." Tails answered, having picked one of the letters up himself, only actually daring enough to open it. The paper inside was marked with red, the font large and bold in some areas, directing attention to dire cause. "They're going to give us an eviction notice." He observed, his own cyan eyes thoroughly scanning the paper. "...In three days."

"What?" Sonic's unrest was apparent as he sat up in his seat. "What happened to our week! I thought we - hey, Knux, where ya goin'?"

By this time Knuckles had made it to the other side of the room, having completed his assiduous task of the hour. "Got an early morning tomorrow, so I'm hitting the sack early." He said, not bothering to look back with his reply, instead only rubbing an aching head and shoving his way into the darkened bedroom. "Try to keep it down."

The slammed door would typically be an indicator of some sort of angered tension, but with Knuckles there was no such thing as a door being shut. They only slammed.

TBC...