Vincent's immaculate white and sky-blue mail truck's engine cut off as he put it into park at the local library, stuffing the keys into his bag. He was ecstatic, eager to start his early morning shift doing what he loved while seeing all of his clients, human and animal alike. He had been a mailman since he was 18, and now that he was 25, he was a professional whether others thought so or not.
His short, dirty blonde hair was always washed and styled for every shift, even if he kept it under his pristinely kept, navy blue cap. His uniform never had a single wrinkle in it, and his mail sack always looked like it just came fresh from the factory.
The only things he had as part of his uniform unofficially, was a bottle of water and a clear baggy of treats he always had in his mailsack for his animal friends; homemade and delicious to all.
"Good morning, Vinny!" An elderly man hollered out from across the street where he always started his route.
Vinny's bright green eyes twinkled while his mouth curled into a smile. "Good morning Mr. Jones! Lovely weather, isn't it?"
"It's oddly warm out for winter, that's for sure! I haven't worn shorts in January in a long time!" The man began to cackle as he sat down into his rocking chair on the small porch of his mint green home.
The mailman squinted up at the sun. Mr. Jones was right. It was January and almost 100* F out, when it should be no more than 30. "How can I be mad about a break from the cold, though?" He shook his head; he didn't want to think about anything negative.
He took a large sip of water before beginning his quest, hustling with a purpose as he crossed the busy road by foot in order to do his job in a timely, efficient fashion. Cars and trucks honked viciously at him, but he refused to care; he only cared about one thing.
Mail.
One by one he lovingly placed letters and non-addressed ads into mailboxes that lined the sidewalks. Some of the mailboxes were cheaply made and basic while others were custom made like one of his favorites that resembled a UFO abducting a cow.
As he strolled the sidewalks, the small heels of his shoes tapping with each step, animals of all species started to gather to him like he was their spirit creature, waiting for pats and scratches, as well as their daily dose of deliciousness; to which he always satisfied them.
Though as hours passed, his feet began to hurt inside his shiny shoes, so he quickly decided to take a break at one of the nearby parks like he always did. It had a nice picnic table for him to sit at, while he was able to listen to the birds sing and watch squirrels play.
He hastily cleared the melting snow off the tabletop and bench before he sat down and simultaneously placed his head down upon his arms as they rested on the table. He was exhausted. During the summer he's allowed to wear shorts as he delivered in the hot weather, but it was technically winter and he was forced to wear pants. "What's going on?" He questioned again. Just the day before it was a blizzard!
As if it was answering his question, a low, menacing growl began to emit from the jowls of a dog only a few feet behind him. His adrenaline immediately kicked in, and his eyes shot wide open. He loved animals, but sometimes their instincts kicked in and their hatred of mail would come back.
There was now only one thing he could do. Get the treats.
Vincent slowly began to move one of his hands towards the mailbag that was resting in his lap, hoping the dog wouldn't get startled by his movements; but his same movements became a puppeteer to the rabid dog.
As his shaking hand inched closer to the bag, he heard the soft crutch of its paws against the softening snow as it started closing in on him. He realized he had no more time to fool around.
He shoved his hand into the bag and hastily removed the clear sack of treats while jumping up from his seat. But as he turned to face the startled hound, his heart sank.
It wasn't a dog at all. It was a lone, alpha grey wolf that looked like it was dying of hunger and thirst. Vinny's treats were nothing but the equivalent of butter to Vinny's tenderloins.
The wolf gave the poor, fearfully frozen mailman one, long haunting howl before it pounced onto him, chomping down onto his neck and instantly puncturing his jugular before he even hit the cold ground.
Vincent felt himself go limp, his mind making him feel euphoric as he sensed his body being jerked around while his limbs detached forcibly.
How am I dying like this? He felt his heart stop; but as his eyesight blackened and all feeling in his body went away, his mind never left him. All of his thoughts and memories were left untouched, though they didn't flash before him as everyone said death would do.
And almost as fast as he tried to comprehend the darkness, his eyesight went completely white as his eyes began to be blinded by an intense light. His lungs suddenly filled with a deep breath of air as his heart jump started once more, racing with adrenaline.
And then his vision was back.
But he was no longer in the park; he was sitting down on a dirt road surrounded by thick forestry, with a large, barrier like wall a short distance in front of him.
"What the hell is this?" He slowly rose to his feet as he tried to figure out what was going on. Not only was he somewhere he had never been to before, but he wasn't dressed the same either. Instead of his flawless uniform he was in a grungy, long-sleeve medieval, cream-colored tunic with dark blue slacks and black shoes; he looked like he was cosplaying a medieval peasant. Even his sack was replaced with a small, 12x12 inch burlap sack that was fashioned to go across him like a mailman one.
He reached inside, and to his surprise, he pulled out a tiny, cotton bag filled with quarter-sized crackers. "Treats?" He furrowed his brow, was I reborn? He gave his cheeks a few slaps attempting to wake himself up, but to no avail. This was his reality.
"Guess I have no choice but to head towards the wall," he muttered to himself as he fixed the bag across his body. But just as he went to take his first step forward, another growl began to emit out from behind him. It came with me!? This time he turned around to face it immediately, his heart pounding to the point of exploding. I don't want to die again!
However, just like before, he instantly regretted looking at the culprit. It was another grey wolf, but it was the size of an adult Buffalo, and it's piercing yellow eyes were focused on the treats, its jaws snapping and dripping with spit.
Vincent didn't waste anymore time. Not wanting to have his throat ripped out again while he watched, he closed his eyes tightly and chucked the bag at the wolf knowing he had no chance to outrun it. And while he refused to watch, he listened carefully as the wolf lept from the ground and caught the treats, chomping down on the bag and snapping its jaws a few times as it swallowed it.
Then the thick, dark forest went silent, frightening Vinny until he started to tremble uncontrollably.
"Do not fear, my boy," a warm, fatherly voice began, "open your eyes, Vincent Mack."