Mr. Tilts II - Revelations

It was raining outside when the man came to our door..

His suit was as gray as the sheets that pounded the street outside of our small home on Turnpike Drive. I was just a boy, maybe six or seven. I had no way of deciphering the signs and I often times tell myself that I would have.. Had he come just a few years later..

The clouds were nearly black with his arrival, as if the storm had brought him to us on it's howling winds.

He sat at the table with my mother, clicking his red pen and going over documents. I chalked this all up to 'boring grown up stuff' and played with my bionicle action figures in the living room.

I remember seeing my mother's face as she came to sit with me, like she'd been crying. The man following her, but holding himself to the entrance in between the kitchen and living room. He smiled kindly but never spoke. That would change as time went on.

          Over the course of his visits that year, I came to know him well. Mr.Tilts, was a salesman of sorts. Though I never understood what he was selling. My mother and father would fight into the late hours of the night after his visits and I'd listen while laying awake in my bed.

         "Pamela, we have to do what he wants. We signed the contract."

My father was always loud enough to make out through the walls but my mother was so soft that I had to imagine her side of the fights.

The man's visits became less frequent as I grew older. And by the time I was twelve he had stopped coming all together. Only showing up the nights of my last few birthdays. Leaving me extravagant gifts that would always complement my parent's gifts. One year my parent's bought me a leather bound journal, and Mr.Tilts dropped his gift off why I slept. Which was an ivory pen with rose gold embroidery.

This went on until my seventeenth birthday.

I had just come home from school and was planning on ducking straight through the family "Hello" s and running up to my room.

___

See, as high school came into my life, so did my love for books. I was growing tired of my peers and turned to literature for relief from my irritable existence; and for good reason.

      I wasn't exactly the most well liked person in my class. When people were near, bad things seemed to happen..

Like, really bad. Usually they were small accidents. Someone would trip after walking passed me in the hall, or a chemistry set would explode, but the worst was back one October. Zach Taylor had made it a point to harrass me one day after school.

I was in the parking lot, heading home as quickly as possible. (I had just picked up my reserved Dark Tower Novels by Stephen King that morning and was ecstatic) Zach saw me and must've seen an easy target because him and his goons cornered me. A lot of shoving took place and I refused to fight back as usual. But as Zack finished up his little game? He walked blindly right in front of a late departing bus. Turned him into mush.

From that point on. I was Bad Luck Lenny.

___

So as I said, on my seventeenth birthday I had plans to spend it in my room. Mr. Tilts hadn't been present for awhile and at this point in my life I had gotten curious of him. He was very mysterious after all of this time being around and I wasn't getting anywhere prying at my parents, who would just blow me off.

         By surprise however, I was reading an old book of poems I had found in the free section of the library and a passage kept itching at me. Because it sounded a lot like my parent's friend.

It read like this:

                      13th of February, 1813

As I sit here and stoke at my pipe, watching the clock reach it's final stroke.

I can not help but ponder upon the darkest of thoughts, for I'm of simple folk.

I sold a piece that wasn't mine to give, to a man who's quill was red.

For a moment of happiness I dealt myself a world of pain, from a lantern light to contract..

I signed my name..

                           Winston Greene

___

This couldn't possibly be Mr.Tilts of course, the exert was almost 200 years old. He would have to be dust by now. But it still struck me as odd. So I copied down the poem and just about obsessed over it.

The sun had set behind the pines and I turned away from my desk window to head to bed. My parents had learned by now that even on my birthday. I wasn't particularly in need of company and just like last year. I was sure a wrapped up birthday scarf or coat was sitting on the counter for me to grab on my way out the door.

        Picturing my mom and dad shopping for my present together sent me into a pre-sleep doze. My eyes became heavy and as I felt the embrace of the Sandman's crusty-eyed layover,

The doorbell rang..

___

When I woke up, my room was shrouded in darkness. I checked my leather banded wristwatch on the desk and it read '3:36AM'

The shadows played off of my bedroom walls and an uneasy feeling crept over me. I laid there for a few seconds and just listened to my breathe. Whatever had woken me seemed to have subsided.

My eyelids descended back into their resting position and I heard a loud 'thud!' I jolted awake and upright. I stared at my bedroom door and listened for a moment. And again the noise screetched through my mind like the climax of a shrill horror novel.

'Thud! Thud! Thud!'

The noise pounded up the stairs and onto the second floor. Advancing toward my door, growing louder and louder as if the source was picking up ferocity.

Thoughts flashed like lightning through my terrified mind.

'Where are my parents?!'

'Is my dad or mom hurt and limping?!'

'Maybe I'm dreaming?'

The thumping grew excruciatingly loud. My heart threatened to burst from my chest and my back was in danger of busting through the wall behind me.

As the noise made it directly in front of my door, all went silent. I held my breathe for moments that equaled an eternity. Until a very light knock tapped at my door.

"W-who is it?!"

My voice was shaky and crackling.

But then.. A familiar and slick voice responded.

"Mr. Locks you know who it is, may I come in? I thought this year I'd.. Present you with your birthday gift."

___

Tilts sat down at my desk and in the dark released the clasps of his suitcase and produced a candle. It lit quickly enough and temporarily blinded me but I could've sworn he clicked his pen and brought the flame to life.

In the orange dancing light he looked sinister. Malevolent in his nice smile. His teeth seemed sharper than usual and his eye seemed to be more sunken in.

I sat at the corner of my bed and waited for him to setlle himself and present this "gift" that he so eagerly wanted to deliver me.

"It's late Mr.Tilts, I should probably get some sleep for school soon."

Tilts smiled and picked up my watch from the desk and examined it.

"How very admirable Mr.Locks. However, this gift is much more important than a good night's rest."

  Tilts reached into his blazer and produced a folded document. I remember thinking that it looked old. Made of animal skin.

With a crack of his neck and a deep sigh of pleasure he handed me the document.

'Mr. Leonard Locks,

            It is my duty to inform you that the time of (The Red Rain) is upon the world of man. The wicked shall burn and the streets will flow with the blood of the innocent.

Only you may partake in the signing of this document, in the presence of your Deamon.

Should you sign.

You will complete the sixth seal.

And your blood will feed the hoards of the damned.

Please sign on the dotted line.

__________'

"What the fuck is this?!"

I threw the paper on the bed in front of me and locked eyes with Tilts.

His face had warped and twisted into a fractured reflection of the kind and silent salesman I had come to know.

His eyes were black holes in his skull, filled with the deepest of nothingness.

His teeth were razor sharp and jagged like a sharks and a grin ripped from ear to ear across his cracked face.

He cackled and cocked his head to the side.

"It's your present Leonard, you are the sixth seal. And its time you signed your form."

I yelled for my mother and Tilts began to snicker. When I didn't get a response I shouted for my father but all I could hear in return was Tilt's taunts.

"Tsk, tsk. They are preoccupied Mr.Lock. your daddy is staining the living room floor red from the slash I placed in his throat, and your whore mother is in fucking pieces in the trash. So sign THE FUCKING PAPER!"

My eyes were flowing tears and a rage for this abomination grew deep within me, a fury that dwarfed all of my fear of him and in that moment. Bad luck Lenny saved my life.

I wailed and when this happened. My cracked window let in just enough of a gust. To pick up the frail contract and send it into the candle on the desk. Which burst in an explosion of green flames.

"No! You ignorant little fuck! I'll eat your flesh off of your ugly fucking face!"

As the thing, that was formerly Mr. Tilts lunged at me. Claws and teeth snapping and chattering.

A loud 'bang' echoed from the direction of the door and the creature reared in pain and gasped out a statement before frantically busting out my window and into the night.

"Its you! How the fuck is it you?!"

___

I never would have believed you if you told me that an escaped murderer would have saved my life from a creature from hell, but it happened..

And to this day I'm still coping with the fact that I was adopted..