A boy stands in front of a white building. A tattered vest hangs off his shoulders, several sizes too big with old brown spots crusted on. He wears a shirt that looks as if it was once white, but now just shades of brown, it stretches over his waist, riding pink lines into his skin. A pair of blue shorts… No a pair of blue jeans that had been ripped until they only came up to the lad's knees constricted around his sides. His shoes, two different patterns, two different sizes, torn open and shredded, tied onto his ankles with string. And a brown cap sporting a long rip down the side, held together with rusty safety pins rests on his head.
The boy's brown eyes stare up at the building. Compared to all the rest, It wasn't tall, in fact, it was really short… maybe one, or two floors up. Its walls were clean with fresh white paint. Although some kids have already decided to adorn its face with black scribbles.
Above lay a huge sign, bearing the same letters as the flyer crunched up in the boy's hand, a rip down the top half, and the lower bit is all smudged and distorted with water. It was very hard to read but, the boy manged to make out those letters.
"P-O-S-T O-F-F-I-C-E"
Yep, the same letters. Taking a deep breath he reaches out, with greasy dirty hands to turn the handle. Using his other hand to give the door a big push to open it, before bringing both hands back to his side, clutching the paper tightly which crinkles under his tightened grip.
"Who's there!?" Comes an adult voice.
The boy steps into the room, now able to see the relatively clean room, but not empty room; A desk sits at the back, and a man sits at the desk. He wears a blue jean jacket, his shoulder coming out of one side, with a black dress shirt buttoned all the way up underneath. He also has a little rough beard bristling his chin and cheeks.
"Um… I'm here for the job?"
"Job- Oh fucking hell, MIKE!" He swirls around in his chair, which creaks from the sudden force to he face the stairway behind him.
Now the boy looks around, to his right was a few stands, holding all kinds of envelopes. And to the left was a shelf neatly stacked with boxes of varying sizes, some even as big as the boy himself!
"What?" Came a new, male, voice.
"Are you not providing info on the flyers again! I told you not to post them without the proper info!"
"Jeez dude, do you want people for the job or not."
Another man, Mike, sporting a white tee-shirt, came sauntering down the stairs, holding a closed cardboard box in front of his face.
"The kid is just going to fucking leave like everyone else, let's not waste my time with-"
"With what?" Came the boy's small voice.
The grumpy man sighs, turning back to look at him. His beared was cold and still.
"Look, we have plenty of people for all the jobs."
"Oh." The boy's face falls, as he turns to leave.
"Expect one." The boy's face jumps, spinning around to look at him and before the man can continue.
"I'll take it!"
"You don't even know what it is!"
"I don't care!"
The man stares him with cold, tired eyes.
"We need someone to deliver Black Hat's mail."
The colour drains from the boy's face, but he still stands there.
"That doesn't sound too bad mister."
"Alone? Nah, that's easy. but the problem is you can't just leave the mail in the mailbox, he doesn't have one."
"So?"
"He's personally asked for it to be hand delivered."
Now the boy shudders, having heard and seen many pictures of this man. Or creature. He never wants to see him.
"See? Go run along kid."
The boy remains silent, but also still stands there in the doorway.
…
"Kid?"
"I'll take it."
The man stares at him, his eyebrows arched.
"What?"
"I said I'll take it! I'll deliver Black Hat's mail!"
"Well, I'll be." The grumpy man rolls his eyes,
"Well, Mike you better take him out, now then."
"You mean I'm hired!?" The boy jumps up, his old brown hat falling off as he lands roughly on his scabby knees.
"Yhep, get going."
No one has ever looked happier to the fact they have just agreed to meet Black Hat.