The Glass Jar with the Silver Latch: Part II

"You already have everything you will ever need. It is now time to fight back!"

I read the words repeatedly, trying to get some meaning from the message. I examined everything: the jar, the mahogany box, the purple cushioning, and the packaging material. I studied the parchment and the handwriting on the note intensely, looking for any hint or clue of its origins. Sleep fell upon me as I as my thoughts grew deeper. I began to dream. It was a memory from when I was nine or ten. I was crying because I could hear that wet squishing sound again. Mr. Wink emerged and staggered as if it was in pain with a battered and beaten face. It made its way to my bed and hovered its hand over me to begin feeding with the mouth that emerged from its hand. I didn't understand. It had just fed off me a couple of weeks ago. Why was it back so soon? I hadn't recovered fully from the last feeding.

It began to eat. It went deep, deeper than it has ever gone before. The tendrils drained every last drop of the nourishment I held. It did not stop! I had a sensation in my spirit folding, twisting, and stretching to its limits. It hurt, and I felt the touch of death. In my mind, I heard something rip like fabric. The loud ripping sensation resonated throughout my entire being, but not from my dream. It came from my physical sleeping body in the here and now. I think it tore my soul.

In my dream, Mr. Wink dropped my limp body to the ground. Unable to move, I watched as Mr. Wink stumbled out of sight, apparently still injured. Everything became darker and colder as consciousness slipped away. That is where my memory of that night ends, but I stayed inside the moment and continued to dream.

I laid there, no longer as a child, but fully grown as I am today. I felt my life hemorrhaging from the laceration deep within my spirit. Tears began to spill over and run down the side of my face. I wept for the life I never had. I mourned for all the pain others endured because of me. I grieved because I knew I had been devoured completely. There was nothing left of me. There was nothing left to save.

I waited for the end.

A piercing blue-white light cut through the darkness. It filled the entire room with its radiance. Still unable to move, I watched as a figure emerged from the light. Standing over me was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her loveliness was not from soft and colorful things. She was beautiful in a way that only a warrior could be beautiful. Her elegance glowed with kindness and fairness. She had the grace of one who was righteous and loyal. She carried a presence capable of extreme violence and unimaginable brutality; ruthless and without tolerance or remorse towards any evil that would rise against her.

She kneeled beside me and cradled my head in her arms. She looked into my eyes and smiled. It had been so long since anyone had looked at me with such affection. She caressed my cheeks and told me not to worry; everything would be all right. She said my soul was precious and pure. She promised that soon there would be no more pain. I heard pleasant purring coming from the small animal that had made itself comfortable on my chest. I lowered my eyes and saw my little kitty from so long ago, now fully grown, looking back at me with large almond-shaped blue eyes. The woman told me that its spirit was raptured from the grasp of the beast and spared the pain inflicted on its bodily shell. She said, never had the cat truly left me. He had always been at my side in ways I would never be able to perceive or understand. The noble cat served as the keeper of my light, preventing the beast from fully extinguishing my flame.

She took one of her hands and placed it underneath my head for support then asked if I was ready. I answered her with my eyes. She laid her other delicate hand on my forehead, and she went deep. She went deeper than Mr. Wink ever could. She went even deeper and deeper until she reached the point where I was bleeding whatever life force or essence that exists in the depths of my spiritual being. She touched the wound momentarily and then gently withdrew, halting the hemorrhaging. I sat up, feeling the strength return to my body. I immediately grabbed my kitty and enveloped him in my arms. He rubbed its face against mine, purring even louder. The woman then placed both her hands on my face, gently kissed my forehead, stood and turned to leave.

Reluctantly my kitty withdrew from me and followed her. Before entering the light, she turned once more. She looked me up and down from head to toe. This time, a much different type of smile spread across her lips, her eyes narrowed and held my gaze with a commanding intensity. With the beauty that could only come from a warrior, she spoke with a depth of goddess,

"Your enemies WILL tremble."

I woke with a start. I was in complete darkness except for the moonlight spilling through the cheap old curtains. The sun must have set hours ago. I was still breathing heavily from the dream. It felt wonderful to be loved and held dear by someone. I had a warm feeling travel throughout my body, tingling up and down my spine. I smiled and spoke aloud to the mysterious woman, "Thank you."

As the words left my mouth, I saw my breath form into wispy puffs of vapor and rise into the air as it does on cold winter days. The hot, summer air in the room. It poured onto me like cold ice-water. In the mirror hung across from me and I saw two red eyes peeking over the top of the chair from behind. Its chest was rising and falling from pants of pure rage. It pounced with a force fueled with malicious savagery. The murky cloak of mist quickly took hold of me, and it began to cut.

He started slowly. The pointed tips of its claws scraped against the skin of my belly. With the skill of a surgeon, he gradually pushed down and embedded each claw into my flesh. Mr. Wink muffled my screams with his other hand. Its mouth emerged from his palm and began to lick and bite perversely on my face, and its tongue relentlessly tried to push forcibly through my lips to enter into my mouth.

Mr. Wink continued his torment of my flesh, licking and spitting on every cut. I knew this would be the end; even if I survived the night, the infection it carried in its saliva would consume me. I t had never been this violent before. It somehow knew of my visitor. It was enraged and now viewed me as "rotten" and "spoiled". I had been made undesirable and meant to kill me.

A flash of movement from behind Mr. Wink caught my eye. I saw something gracefully leap up to the top of the television. It sat with stillness and with the regal poise unique to the feline species. It watched me intensely, then slightly cocked its head. The tiny movement was enough to catch the moonlight in its eyes, and two vibrant green orbs exploded into existence out the darkness.

I remembered those eyes from long ago!

The shape slightly nodded its head, and I did something I have never done before. I lifted my eyes and looked into that face that had haunted me for so long. I never noticed how black the eyes were; round and ugly.

My hands began to twitch under the oppressive force of the mist.

I never noticed the very faint green glow they gave off, making them even uglier. The jittery frantic eye movements clearly showed excitement at what they saw: my suffering. A rage began to emerge within me like a hot liquid.

My hands slowly closed into fists.

The muscles in my arms, legs and chest contracted!

I cocked my arm back as far as I could go. It was at that moment that Mr. Wink noticed me looking at it. For a split second, we made eye contact. Everyone one those dirty, ugly eyes focused on me and a look of confusion spread across its face. It slightly loosened its grip on me from the moment of uncertainty. I knew this was my only opportunity. I took it, and I struck! I drove my fist towards the center of its face with a right-hook powered by twenty-two years of fear, pain, and despair.

To my complete astonishment, my arm cut through the mist that had paralyzed me for all of my life and my fist made contact with a very satisfying thud to the face. Unprepared for the blow, Mr. Wink's head snapped back like a rag doll. It stumbled backward with its arm flailing wildly in the air before crashing into my cheap dinner table. It was almost comical to watch. I stood there astonished at what I had done. I looked down at my fist and saw redness on my knuckles. It wasn't redness from bruising or damage; they glowed softly like molten steel. I walked over to Mr. Wink. The misty formation swirled frantically around its body. The accumulation seemed to appear heavier around the face, giving it the appearance of tears welling up in it eyes. The look on its face showed both surprise and bewilderment as if it were saying, "You hit me?"

I looked at the feline shape, now sitting on an end table to our left. It was casually licking its front paw and cleaning himself, now and then glancing at me trying to feign disinterest. I knew better.

I reached down, grabbed Mr. Wink, and I hit him. I hit him again, and again, and again. I went into a blind rage and unleashed a barrage of blows fueled by fury and hate. Mr. Wink collapsed once more to the ground. It howled in indignation before picking itself up. With outstretched arms in a show of rage, it attacked with its incredible speed, zipping from the floor, then to the ceiling,  and then clinging alongside the wall with a velocity almost too quick for the human eye to perceive.

Suddenly, the world I viewed began to change. Everything within my vision slowed down to a crawl; almost like in a slow motion movie. No, that wasn't quite right. I could still see him maneuver with his actual superior speed, but at the same time, I saw everything at a snail-paced speed. When Mr. Wink went in for the kill, I found that this dual perception and unusual ability gave me time to anticipate, avoid, and strike!

Mr. Wink's rage exploded at being countered in every move and tossed to the side using its own momentum. The vaporous mist converged at his right arm began to solidify into a pointed blade, and the mist sharpened, snapping and slashing in the air. It caught me on my thigh and chest, cutting me deeply. I quickly grabbed the aluminum bat I kept in the corner for the crack heads that frequented the area. Mr. Wink lunged at me, and I dodged to the left and then ducked under its follow-up slash. Another slash from the mist cut me on my hip. It stabbed at me, and I spun as its blade pierced the wall where I had stood only moments ago. I brought the bat down hard on the base of its skull. There was a satisfying "CRACK,” and it collapses in a heap to the ground.

I brought the bat down on the dark shape quivering on the floor again and again in large overhead arcs. Crack! Crack! Crack! Its flesh was clinging to the end of the bat in strands of black tar-like mucous. It wailed in pain and agony with each impact. It begged and pleaded for me to stop.

The mysterious purring cat began to interweave between my feet, affectionately rubbing against them in a graceful figure eight.

I dropped the bat, reached down, grabbed Mr. Wink by the throat, and brought him mere inches from my face, foreheads almost touching. It conveyed desperate images of compassion and forgiveness. It saturated me with emotions begging for mercy and sympathy. All the things never offered to me.

Once more, I did something that it would never have thought to be possible. I sent a powerful image of my own directly into its mind: an image of a little boy looking up at his mommy and daddy and holding onto one single wish. "I wish I could be normal."

I raised my free arm, poised my hand like a mighty cobra and extended two fingers into the shape of hooks. This time, I spoke my words with my voice. I wanted it to hear me.

"Look at me!"

I cocked my wrist to angle his head to face me. I needed to see those eyes. My kitty had jumped up to a chair next to us and was purring even louder, intently watching the scene.

"Never again will you have my consent to make me inferior to you!"

''"Never again will you take my voice and restrain my limbs!" ''

"Never again will I be your victim!"

"Never again, you son of a bitch!"

I plunged the two fingers into the large winking eye on its forehead, and I went deep. I went deeper than anyone has ever gone before. I extended my remaining fingers and embedded them into the surrounding eyes and squeezed as hard as I could until the bone ridges of the eye sockets collapse under the force of my grip. I increased my effort and went deeper and deeper.

I was looking for something. I didn't know what it was or even if it had a name, but I knew it was there. Something brushed the tips of my fingers. I went a little bit further and got a firm grasp on it. I pulled it out like it was a carrot in the ground. I removed my hand from the wailing creature and looked at my prize. I was holding a bundle of fluorescent roots that encapsulated a wispy, glowing orb. The sphere slightly flickered and slowly rotated within the entanglement of gleaming roots. I don't know why, it was pure instinct, but I shoved the orb into my mouth and swallowed it whole.

Mr. Wink's body began to thrash violently and convulse with loud screams of agony. Its body collapsed on itself as it lost the ability to hold its form. It eventually disintegrated into a mucus-like fluid that continued to give off wispy puffs of vapor.

I heard a sweet meow from behind me. The cat was now standing by the mahogany box containing the glass jar. I opened the box, removed the jar, and held its open end towards the remains of Mr. Wink. With an intense swoosh of air, the monster was instantly sucked into the jar. I flipped the lid over and locked down the silver latch. It snapped into place, and I heard an echoing "KER-CHUNK" boom in my mind. The runes etched into the glass glowed a brilliant green and slowly faded. I held up the jar and looked at its contents intensely. It swirled within the jar with sharp movements as if it were confused and disoriented. It was still alive. Alive, but now trapped forever within the confines of the small container. It would never escape; even if it did, it would never have the ability to cross back over to its realm. Nor did have any ability to touch or interact with our side of the physical world ever again.

I heard the meow once more and found my kitty had curled up on the sofa. He looked at me, and I knew he was here to stay. He let out a giant yawn and lowered its head. His gaze beckoned to me as if to tell me, "Come, it is time to rest now."

I love my little kitty. He is my best friend in the whole world.

10 Months Later I am driving through the winding roads that line the breathtaking mountainous landscapes. The roaring engine of my brand new Mustang rumbles through the frame of the car. I am pushing about 95 mph. I slightly press down on the pedal to accelerate the car to 110 mph. I really can't be late for this appointment.

I love the massive sound of my car. It's invigorating. I have always loved muscle cars. I chuckle to myself. It was a hard decision choosing between the Mustang and the Camaro. I liked them both. In the end, I just gave in and bought them both.

In the days, that followed that final night. The swirling fluid within the jar began to speak with faint images. The familiar images were begging me to release it. It expressed great suffering from walls of its prison that burned its flesh. It pleaded for relief; the torment was too much. It told me it had a proposal to offer. It showed me an abandoned house located in eastern Louisiana. It said to go there. I asked, "Why would I ever do that?" Expressions of goodwill filled my mind. It wished to show me a small sample of the knowledge it could share with me. Against my better judgment, I went and located the old house exactly where I was told it would be. It was a large abandoned mansion ravaged by time and nature. It was probably a beautiful plantation many years ago. I went to the farthest corner of the west wing and found floor boarding that was slightly a different shade of color from the others. Exactly as I was informed, there would be. I tore out the floor and found it opened up to a hidden sub-basement that appeared too modern to have been built at the time of the home's construction. I entered the tiny space and found exactly what I was promised - a stockpile of hidden riches and money; hidden wealth beyond my wildest dreams, all for me.

The entity imprisoned in the jar was giddy and fully of anticipation upon my return. It expressed pride in itself for giving me everything it had promised, and now it was my turn. It demanded its freedom for fulfilling its promise. I slowly reached for the jar and carefully held it in my hand.

I gave it a good shake to make sure the viscous fluid would coat the entire inner surface of the glass walls, seeing how terribly the wall burned its skin. I laughed at the jar and put it back in the chest, closed the lid and placed it safely in the back of my closet. I closed the door, entirely blocking out the muffled screams of rage.

Learning about this creature was difficult at first. After tireless work, I stumbled onto obscure accounts in the legends of the Native American tribes of the Midwest. I traveled there at once to meet with the elders. I told them my story. The kindly old counsel elder dismissed the other and once alone revealed to me they were called "ii daaka duushi," "He Who Harvests from the Child."

Legend says the Harvesters were known to prey on the many tribes of the plains that flourished in those days. It acquired the young ones and tormented them for their "a da geyu-diwas"- the innocence of a child. I was told that an individual Harvester could have up to 15 children in its "herd" at one time. The life expectancy for the unfortunate child had never been known to exceed 13 years old. Death comes for the children mostly in the form of suicide.

The old chief looked at me with gentle, but sad eyes and said, "Never in our people's history has a child been spared this fate when the Daaka comes. Many mighty men of medicine and warriors of the spirit land have tried. They all failed. None escapes the Daaka's hold. None that is, until you."

He smiled and put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Do you know how you were able to achieve this great victory?"

I shook my head.

"You had protection from the spirit world. I feel it in you, and see it all around you. Many gods dwell there, my young friend. They protect us in ways we do not understand and cannot see. They also call upon you to with quests to be performed. They do so giving no explanation or reason."

"Go now, spirit warrior. Go with my blessing. My heart soars to glorious heights today, for I have lived long enough to see the start of this spirit quest and the birth of a new mighty warrior."

My little cat, perked his head up from my lap and offered a humorous meow as if he too had something to add to the conversation.

The old man turned to the little cat who never left my side and with a joyful grin said, "I have not forgotten about you, little one! Go with your brother and ravage the shadow land with the spirit of a mighty panther!"

Now, I spend my days traveling around the country looking for other children like me. Since Mr. Wink's defeat, I have put an end to the nightmares of five more kids. When I met the first child, I discovered something amazing. I learned that if the child is in direct contact with me at the same time I am in touching the entity, the child absorbs a small portion of my power. It is nowhere near the strength of mine, but it's enough for them to fight back. I have also discovered that objects I touch become unaffected by the creature's ability to use its vapor to form barriers. It is temporary and short-lived, but very effective. It is especially useful for such things as bullets, arrows, and knives.

Those five entities were just like Mr. Wink and just like him; they are now in my glass jar. Curiously, the liquid level in the jar remains the same even after the others were added. I can also hear them from within the jar, but it seems that they are unaware of each other. They are confined within the mystical structure alone; all alone in a prison, that stings and burns their skin.

Today, I am on my way to see a little girl named Joanna, who lives in a small town in Northern New Hampshire. She has the most beautiful eyes and a face that radiates innocence. She has a Vlog where she shares the details of her sad life. She is often seen crying with despair at the unending sorrow that fills her life. She doesn't know how much longer she can go on like this. Then, there are the nightmares. She has suffered from the most horrible nightmares for as long as she can remember. She makes vague references to someone, a woman, who is always watching her. Tonight, when the woman comes, she will find Joanna is not alone. Her tiny hand will be tightly clutched in mine. The woman will still see a frightened child, trembling with the terror only a child could know. That will please her. I will look down at the little girl and softly speak her name to remind her that I am here. When she looks up at me, I will smile and tell her,

"Tonight, I will give you everything that you will EVER need. It's yours! All you have to do is reach out and take it."

"Now, it is your time to FIGHT BACK!"