My name is Adam West. I am writing this as an aftermath of something terrible. As a warning to all of us, that they are real. We were right, the angels, the demons, God and Satan, they exist, but at the same time we were so very, very, wrong.
My story begun when I was about ten years old and had my first encounter with the man in the black tuxedo. I went home after school and I was at our neighborhoods park, playing soccer with my friends, when one of the kids kicked the ball and send it off the field. I run after it and didn’t even realize I was in the middle of the road when I heard the loud honk and saw the car speeding its way towards me. I heard the screeching sound of the tires when the driver hit the brakes and a lady jumped at me and grabbed me out of harm’s way. As we laid on the ground, still confused, scared and with my adrenaline through the roof, I saw him. He was tall, dressed in a black tuxedo and black shoes, with long dark hair and a face covered in the darkest shadow, just standing across the street looking at us. As soon as the driver came out of his car yelling at me, the man in the tuxedo turned around and slowly walked away.
Ever since then I encountered the man in the tuxedo so many times that I lost count of them. Every occasion was always tied with an event that would threaten my life. A telephone pole landed right in front of me when I stopped to tie my shoelaces, a flower pot fell in front of me when I stopped to check why my phone was beeping, once I tripped and my face landed mere inches away from a rock that would have smashed it…the list goes on and on and every time my death was prevented at the last second by what I thought was luck. And every time I looked around I saw the man in the tuxedo, the same tuxedo and shoes, his hair never changing and his face covered in shadows, always standing there waiting for my demise and when it didn’t happen he slowly walked away from me. Sometimes I tried running after him but could never catch up to him and he always disappeared the second I blinked. Just poof and he was never there.
When I was young, my parents thought that I was traumatized by that first incident and took me to a therapist. The psychologist insisted that the man I was seeing was something my subconscious had created, a manifestation of my fear of death. He said that because I had so many accidents happening around me, my mind needed a way to justify my bad luck and it created the image of the man that I saw back then.
But the therapy and the pills didn’t help me at all. By the time I was fourteen I could see him every day, from my window, just standing at the walkway across my parent’s house. Eventually I stopped talking about him to my parents and pretended that the therapy was working. I pretended that he wasn’t there and laughed with my friends when they brought up the subject. But he was always there, wherever I was, out of the school, across the cafeterias we hang out and always across my home. He didn’t move, not in the rain, nor in the snow, always there with his hands into his pockets.
I could live my life ignoring him, pretending the incidents happening around me were just bad strokes of luck or just me being clumsy, but the incidents kept getting more frequent (with at least one or two per week) and then one of them went too far.
We were driving with my parents from our home at Sycamore to a resort at Huntington to spend our summer vacation, when a big truck from the other side lost control and rammed us at full speed. As my body went flying I remember my parents’ screams and the man in the tuxedo on the side of the road walking away.
When I came too, I was at a hospital bed, lucky enough that I only had a broken leg and arm. But the price for my luck this time was the lives of both my parents. Both dead in an instant. I spent the next couple of years at my aunt’s house in Evansville, where I finished high school. My depression was so bad and I was so closed to myself that I didn’t get a chance to make any friends and honestly, I didn’t want any. Because every day that man was there, everywhere I went and I knew that people around me were in danger, so staying at home where the incidents around me were less frequent and more detained, seemed like a good idea . However the very day I was accepted at Stanford (spending my days at home was a very good way to get my grades up) I bid farewell to my aunt and took the first bus out of Evansville (I really loved her like a second mother and didn’t want her to have the same fate).
I will spare you most of the details. My life at university was mostly lonely, though my heart eventually caved in. I managed to make just a couple of friends and one of them became my first love and later on my fiance. Her name was Elizabeth Taylor. She was there studying computer science while I went for psychology, thinking that maybe I could explain the living nightmare of my life in a rational way when no one else could. I never mentioned the tuxedo man to Liz or anyone else. He was my silent stalker, my secret, and the theme of my final thesis (gave me an A, go figure).
After graduation, me and Liz both moved to L.A. where I opened my own little office and Liz worked as an advisor at an IT company. My life was finally turning around, with the incidents around becoming way less frequent. The man in the tuxedo was still there, but I was finally happy and could actually ignore him. As a matter of fact, after a while all the incidents stopped and I swear I stopped seeing the tuxedo man as well. While living with Liz I felt my life was finally at peace and I decided that she was the one, the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. So one morning, on the day of the anniversary of our first kiss, I went out and bought an engagement ring, a silver one with an emerald on it instead of a diamond (because she loved emeralds) and planned to propose to her at dinner. So I closed the office early that day and drove straight to our apartment, where I cooked for her and prepared a romantic table with roses and candles and patiently waited for the hours to pass till she would get home from work. When she got home she was exhausted, so I took her to our table and treated her like a princess. And that night was my happiest night, when the moment I fell to my knees her eyes sparkled full of life and instead of answering my question with a blunt “yes”, she fell to her knees, put on the ring and kissed me more passionately than ever before. Before I knew it we were in bed making love and after we slept at each other’s arms. That very night, the happiest of my life as I thought, turned out to be my most horrifying.
I woke up to a thumping sound coming from somewhere outside. I couldn’t identify where the sound was coming from (our apartment was on the second floor), so I assumed it was a cat messing around at our balcony or something like that. I got out of bed as slowly and carefully as I could, trying not to wake up Liz and went into our living room. I walked past our couches and headed towards the door that led to the balcony. I put the curtain aside and as soon as I pushed the handle I stepped back out of seer fear. The tuxedo man was standing right outside my door, his posture same as always except now I could see his eyes, a red that was fluctuating, like a flame dancing in the wind. Before I had time to react I saw another man that went through the tuxedo man like he was a ghost, coming straight at me with a knife. I barely managed to grab his arm as the knife was coming straight for my chest. We grappled for a while and then I kicked him. He let out a scream, took a few steps back and tumbled to the ground with me falling over him. But the force of the fall was enough to put the knife at my left elbow, which loosened my grip a bit.
I didn’t notice the table that we had flipped, the television that broke next to us or the vase with the plants that was in pieces. All I could see was the man who was struggling to get up and take the knife out of my elbow. He managed to punch me in the face and my sight went blurry for a second but I managed to move right out of his reach and avoid the next swing. That did however give him back the knife. He had the upper hand and he managed to get on top of me this time. He grabbed the knife with both of his hands and plunged at me. I raised my arms and stopped him right as the tip of the knife was about to penetrate my skin. But he had the forward momentum and I felt pain in my chest as the knife slowly made its way into me. I thought that that would be the end of me when Liz came out of our bedroom and hit the intruder on the head with the small lamp we had at our bedside table.
What happened next I can only remember parts of. While I was struggling to stand up, the intruder attacked Liz, she shouted and screamed and I tackled that asshole with all the strength I had left. I smashed him on the wall and heard him groan. I pulled back and smashed him again and again and again. I stopped only when I could no longer feel him trying to resist. His body begun dropping to the floor so I backed away and tried to clear my head. As my thoughts started to take form, I felt cold. I looked besides me and saw Liz on the floor, in a pool of blood streaming out of her neck. The knife was right next to her. I remember crying over her lifeless body. I remember the man in the tuxedo, for the first time, approaching me just as the intruder begun to rise. I remember me standing in front of him with the knife in my hand. And the last thing I remember is a bright hand piercing though the intruder from behind and then piercing me as well. My chest burned, but I was ready to go to the other side, ready to finally surrender to the black dressed figure that haunted me all my life. Just before everything went into black, I saw the brightest smile and two blinding blue dots.
When I woke up, I was restrained on a wooden chair. My hands were handcuffed and my legs were bound with chains. My mouth was gagged with duct tape and I fell hot, so very hot. The room around me was small and lit with a dim red light, coming from somewhere behind me. I could see plenty of typical torture instruments on a metallic table next to me (a saw, a nailclipper, a variety of knives and instruments that removed organs) and the outline of a torture bed on the wall to the right. And in front of me, sitting on a comfortable old-timey chair, was the man in the tuxedo. Only this time he was larger, his bright red eyes fixated on me. I didn’t struggle. He wanted me for a long time and now he finally had me.
«Hello Adam», he said, his voice being calming and smooth. «We finally meet face to face. I didn’t expect you would be such a tough case. Of all the people I have targeted, you were by far my hardest case and the most entertaining one».
As he was talking to me, I noticed movement coming from the torture table. I could barely make it out in this dim light, but I was sure I could see now, a figure in black tied to the table. The tuxedo man turned at look at the table.
«Oh yes, I almost forgot about him. Do you know who that is, Adam?», he asked. He smiled when I raised my elbows. «Of course you don’t. That, my dear Adam, is your angel».
My eyes opened widely and I looked at the stranded figure again. I could see now a light emanating from the body, the wings tucked behind him, the long blonde hair. I looked in front of me gain.
«Then that makes you…» I said, surprised to the fact that my mouth was somehow free again.
«A demon, that would be a correct assumption».
I tried to flail, but the sudden pain in my chest forced me to stop. I looked and saw a gaping hole right were my heart should be.
«What the fuck» I mumbled. «What is going on»?
The demon’s smile grew larger. «Can’t you understand Adam», he said in a satisfied tone, «You are dead… or at least as dead a man can be without a heart. Right now you are alive because of me». He stood up and his form changed, from a man to a beast, enormous in size, with wings on his back, claws instead of fingers and teeth bigger that a shark’s. «In fact you have been alive thanks to me for a very long time now, haven’t you»?
As I listened to his words, a little epiphany came upon me. It was true that every time I had seen this demon in his human form, I had some sort of accident or catastrophe happening to or around me, that almost killed me. Was almost the key word?
«Why would you protect me? You are a demon, not an angel» I said.
His laughter was really loud, it sounded like boulders rolling down a mountain. «You humans are so clueless. Who do you think watches over you? Them?» he asked pointing to the tied angel. «They despise you. They blame you for our fall, their fall. They hate you because you took from them the spotlight, the creator’s attention.» He turned his back on me and headed towards the angel, who still seemed unconscious. «My brothers in heaven think of you as inferior beings, beings that don’t deserve to exist. They believe your existence makes the creator imperfect. Isn’t that right, my brother» he asked and plunged one of his claws into the angel’s foot. The angel opened his eyes and let out a scream that was like a thunderstorm. He looked angrily at the demon and spoke in a language that I couldn’t understand. Only then did I notice that the color of his eyes was blue.
«Now Adam,» the demon turned towards me again, his body hiding the angel from my sight, «I am willing to give you an offer». He leaned to me and his face was now mere inches away from mine, his breath went down my neck, smelling like peppers and cinnamon. «My brother over there is your “guardian angel” and he has tried to kill you all your life. He took your parents from you and his puppet took away your lover. If you exit this room, the wound in your chest will remain as it is and your life will end back at your little apartment. Or», his claws scrapped my arms kindly, «you can take my tools and give my brother a little taste of his own medicine. Kill him if you want, in my little pocket of hell only the creator and the Morningstar can see what happens and I highly doubt either of them care about my brother anymore. Do that and you will become my agent on earth, I will give you the power to protect others in the very same way I protected you. So, what do you say?»
It was as if my body moved on its own. My hands and legs were free and I took what seemed like a spoon with a sharp edge from the table next to me. With the demon walking right behind me, I approached the angel who was now focused on me, his mouth spouting out more of the language I couldn’t understand, his voice terrifying like the dawn of creation. But I didn’t care anymore. I put my hand into his forehead and forced his head to stay still. He looked at me in terror and anger as the spoon came closer and closer. «You took away my sanity. You took away my family. You took away my love. Since you took everything from me», I went next to his ear and whispered, «I will take everything from you».
And I plunged the spoon into his eye socket.
I am writing this as an aftermath of something terrible. As a warning to all of you, that they are real. We were right, the angels, the demons, God and Satan, they exist, but at the same time we were so very, very, wrong. I look at myself in the mirror and I finally realize the truth.
The pain in my chest will stay there forever, to remind me of the pain they want to cause to you. My bright blue eyes will stay there forever, to remind me to look after all of you. And my torn down wings will stay there, forever in my back, to remind me of the demons that come from the heavens. My name is Adam West. And I…am your guardian angel.
Submitted May 24, 2019 at 03:13PM by Kirlasmaster