From Point A to Point B

## The Call

Vansou sits on the bed of a dark, dingy room, watching the clock tick as he waits for his next call. The air felt thick and tense as he flips open the cheap, little phone, watching the glowing screen with intent. Nothing yet unfortunately. He flops backwards onto the bed, letting out a long sigh. It had been a long week. The sound of gun fire and people angrily screaming stayed fresh in his mind. It is always a long week when riots and fights breakout. However, no matter the weather, no matter the situation, the mail must go through.

Sleep slowly crept up on Vansou as he lay there, soon giving into the urge to rest. His hazy eyes closing as his expression softens, letting go of all his daily stresses and making way for a moment of peace.  A few hours later, Vansou wakes up to his phone ringing a loud, obnoxious tone. He sits up and opens the phone, answering the call.

"Yes, hello. What do you want?"

He rubs his eyes and yawns as he waits for a response, the sound of rustling papers could be heard in the background before a man starts to speak clearly through the phone.

"Hello Mr.Woodblex, it's the National Postal Corporation. Please listen carefully." he said in a very formal tone.

Vansou rolls his eyes and grones. "Come on man, just tell me my next job. I've been through this more times I can count, I know what I'm doing"

The man on the other end of the phone gumble to himself and a pen tapping could be heard faintly in the background. He speaks through clenched teeth as he continues with the instructions. "We have another highly confidential letter being sent to a politician, I assume you’re up for it based on your tone. As usual we will send the maps to your Encrypted Postal Logging Device (EPLD), along with an information package pertaining to the delivery. Please arrive at the office listed to pick up the mail. That is all. Goodbye, Mr. Woodblex.”

The man hangs up and the phone starts to beep before Vansou closes it with a loud clack.

## On His Tail

Night has fallen over the city. The once bustling, noisy streets full of traffic are now eerily quiet. The sound of Vansou’s quick, heavy footsteps and the jinggling of metal buckles echo as he hastily walks down the street, holding his little, black, messenger bag protectively. The flickering, yellow street lamps reflecting off his heavy leather coat and shiny, black rifle making him move closer to the center of the road. His eyes dart around to the windows and doors of the many apartment buildings. The quietness of the city made the occasional, disheartening screams and shattering glass, carry further. Next stop. A destination that is a whole country over.

The only people around were three men, sitting on the side of the road, smoking cigarettes as they attempted to unwind from a long work day. They give a side glance as Vansou walks past, but seem too tired to care about his presents as he walks past the city limits and into the open fields next to a crumbling highway.

He checks the map on his EPLD and he groans. His next destination was the islands of Eyja Pysgod. He brushes off his worries for now though, now is not the time for that. The digital map that was sent to him had a detailed layout of the area between his location and his destination. Everything from the major cities to the tiny, seemingly insignificant little villages and even some landmarks were labeled on the map.

Keeping his brisk pace while planning a route, he hears something in the distance. Vansou unclips his rifle from his back and loads it with his last magazine as he turns back to see a mob of police running towards him.

“There he is. That's our target up there. Fuckin angel face.” Violently exclaimed the sergeant.

"Angel face. ANGEL FACE! WHO THE FUCK YOU CALLIN' ANGEL FACE?" Shrieked Vansou.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on that fact, as a few bullets fly by him. He stumbled back. The six large, gold tipped angel wings on his back pulling him back further and making it more difficult to catch himself. Just as he manages to catch himself and stand, one of the men bashes him over the head with his baton. Everything starts to get a little distorted as Vansou dodges the next swing by a hair.

He spins around to attempt to escape and runs into a wall of men. He could feel his heartbeat pulse through his head and his legs go numb as he looks for any way out. The demands from the police become muffled as he points the barrel of his gun to one of the men. The shouts get louder and more aggressive. He faintly hears a click from the few who have pistols.

Two of the more burly cops grab onto his wings. Vansou lets out an ear piercing screech that would surely be heard throughout the nearby city. A few of the beautiful feathers were crushed, spilling some of his silvery blood onto the ground. Vansou spreads out his wings and looks back at them. The men are now holding on for dear life as they are lifted off the ground. A large gust of wind and the screams of two large men now rolling on the ground are produced as he flaps his wings.

The chance is taken when it's noticed that they let their guard down a little, shoving everyone out of the way as he runs and out stretches his wings. A few more gunshots are heard and one catches on his long leather coat as Vansou takes off. The beautiful wings glittering in the soft glow of the moon.

Shortly after, things get fuzzier. His focus starts to dwindle as the throbbing in his head becomes almost too much to bear. Pressing on was not an option as Vansou loses altitude and crash lands in a field full of grain. His vision blurs as his consciousness slips away.

## A Hard Fall

 Everything was too much. Too many voices. Too many hands. Big hands, dainty hands, rough hands, hands that poke and prod. Vansou wanted them to stop and leave him be. He hears someone screaming and putting up a fight, not realizing it’s himself. All of this makes it feel as if he is suffocating. He feels the cold air hit his skin adding to the sensory overload before feeling a sharp pain in his arm. Numbness spreads throughout his body and then everything goes dark.

Vansou wakes up in a small room with the feeling of a thick, dense quilt sticking to his body. He pushes the quilt off of his upper body and sighs softly as he feels the cool air hit his chest. He goes to scratch his side and feels the soft, fuzzy feeling of gauze covering the area. Throwing off the rest of the quilt, he looks down over himself, seeing that he is only in his underwear and that stark white bandages covered his body. The bandages were skillfully wound around his left leg and torso, carefully placed to avoid his now slightly damp wings. Sitting up and looking around the room he could see a plain wooden chair and a matching table that is just big enough to fit a book. His belongings were neatly stacked in the corner and his rifle was leaning up against the wall. The door was on the opposite wall and one window with white drapes, parallel to the door. He swings his legs off the side of the bed and carefully stands up on wobbly legs. The thought of his assignment flashed through his head and scrambles to get his clothes back on, the pain was the last thing on his mind. Now fully dressed, he slings his rifle over his shoulder and peeks through the crack in the door.

Suddenly a pair of large green eyes meet his. Vansou stumbles backwards holding back a cry as he feels a pull in his thigh and side. The door creaks open and a short, slender woman starts guiding him back to the bed. A few children follow behind her, all of them yelling and shouting over one another asking to “see the angel.” Vansou tries to move away as his expression twists into a pained grimace when the children run over and begin touching and pulling on the delicate feathers of his wings. Other villagers peek in to get a glimpse of him. Some are praying outside the door.

“Out! OUT! All of you OUT!” shouts the woman as she pushes the children outside and promptly closes the door with a slam, locking it with a wooden board placed along the doorway. “You are such an idiot, why are you up? You have stitches and now because of your idiocy I might have to fix them,” she exclaimed.

Vansou looks at her in awe. Never in his life had he met someone who lived in effectively the middle of nowhere that treated him normally. He feels a rush of indescribable emotions as he watches her move around the room. Her long, dark brown curls and dress move with her as she swiftly returns to the bedside, pulling a chair up next to it. The light from the window makes the purple hue of her skin stand out beautifully against her dark hair. She takes off the leather satchel and props it up against the leg of the table. Opening the satchel, she pulls out a small leather-bound book, a bottle of dark, black ink, and a bitch wood dip pen and carefully sets them on the table. Opening to a blank page and opening the bottle of ink, she dates the page before setting the pen down and turning to Vansou.

“Take off everything except your underwear.” She states as she stares daggers at Vansou. She takes a seat in the chair, her feet just barely reaching the ground and her back flush with the back of the chair.

Vansou looks at her in bewilderment and just lets out a long sigh. “Look, I don’t know where I am and I have no clue who you are. What makes you think I’m just going to strip? I don’t even know your name.”

“You are in the town of Himbarr. My name is Una. Please, can we just get this over with? All I need to do is check to make sure your stitches haven’t been ruined. That's it. Now please just take off your clothes.” Una says bitterly.

Vansou stands up, taking off his rifle when the date written on the yellow parchment catches his eye. His eyes widen and he starts to get a little shaky when he realizes that he has been out cold for two days. Slinging his rifle back on, he bolts out the door and runs down the road, wincing again as he feels the same pull in his thigh from earlier before feeling a popping sensation that turns into intense, burning pain. His legs give out from under himself as he takes the next step and he falls onto the gravel road. Vansou bites his lip to hold back any screams or cries as he attempts to get back on his feet.

The villagers gather around him and discuss amongst themselves what to do. Some try to touch Vansou but he swats their hands away. Suddenly the crowd parts like the dead sea and Una walks up to Vansou and looks down. She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs before grabbing him under his arms and throwing him over her shoulder and walking towards a small white house with a sign so faded you couldn’t read it. “Why did you run off like that? This could have been easy ya’ know but no you couldn’t have waited a little longer. Now, look at the mess you’re in.” Una scolded. She enters the house, closing the door with a slam.