You hold this letter in your hands because I have failed. Most likely my body has never been retrieved and never will be, but I have died, of that you can be certain. The matter of utmost urgency to you and the reason for this communication is not how I have been killed but "why?". It was never my desire to pass this great burden to you but circumstances have forced my hand. Do not think me melodramatic or speaking in hyperbole when I assure that the world's fate hangs in the balance. Horrible things have been placed in motion that cannot be allowed to reach fruition. I know that when we last spoke we did not part well. I apologize deeply for the words I spoke of your father. Truth be told I loved my brother as I love his son. I suppose I was simply angry at him for leaving me with this weighty responsibility. That responsibility is now yours. Go to my house and remove the clothing from my bedroom closet. Upon investigation you will find the back wall of the closet to be a false one. Remove the panel and you will find inside a locked mahogany box. The key within this envelope will open that box. Inside you will find a stack of documents, these comprise a body of research first begun by your great grandfather long ago and passed down through the generations to your father and I. I now bequeath that dreadful work to you in hopes that you will not ignore the truth of it or allow your notions of the world's workings to hinder your ability to do what must be done. It must be finished, the dragon must not be freed. The oldest of the documents I have painstakingly copied from your great grandfather's notes. Many of the pages you will find written in the familiar handwriting of your father, God rest his soul. My time is up and I must say goodbye. I am sorry Jonathan, so very sorry.
Reginald Bowers III
Jonathan Bowers: Now
Jonathan read the letter twice before refolding it and placing the paper back inside the envelope. He held the brass key in his open palm, feeling the lightness of it and struggled to understand his feelings. There was still sorrow from the loss of his father of course and he still harbored a now pointless anger towards his Uncle Reginald but there were other, more complicated emotions as well. In his heart he now felt an indescribable amalgam of fear, confusion, and an odd species of excitement. All his life, Jonathan had known that his father shared some deep secret with his uncle. As far back as he could remember, Jonathan could recall the two men huddled in his fathers office, speaking in hushed tones. On more than one occasion they had closed the door so that Jonathan couldn't hear their arguments; those nights had usually ended with his uncle storming out of the tiny house slamming the door behind him. Afterwards Jonathan's father would seem weary and distant, ordering Jonathan not to enter his office before retiring to his bedroom upstairs.
Now the heaviness of loss settled on Jonathan along with a profound loneliness. With a deep sigh he placed the key in the pocket of his jeans and left the house. As he started up the engine of the rusty old Chevy pickup and backed out of the driveway to head to his uncle's house, Jonathan felt tears well up in his eyes. Uncle Reginald had been all he had left and now even he was gone. He visualized his uncle's face in his mind: his high cheek bones and receding hairline so much like Jonathan's father's, his piercing blue-green eyes, and his always tidily trimmed beard. In spite of his sadness though, Jonathan couldn't help feeling a sense of anticipation. He would finally know the secret the two men had kept for so long. It wouldn't replace the men themselves, but by shedding light on the mystery he would come to know them more deeply and for that Jonathan was grateful.
He found the closet just as described in the letter. With the false wall pulled aside, the wooden box was revealed. It was a mostly plain box bearing little ornamentation. The lock was simple and undecorated. The only remarkable detail of the outside was a carved message etched into the varnished grain of the box's lid. "Revelation 13:18 and above that "Revelation 20:1-3". Jonathan turned the key in the lock and lifted the lid.
Jonathan read the letter twice before refolding it and placing the paper back inside the envelope. He held the brass key in his open palm, feeling the lightness of it and struggled to understand his feelings. There was still sorrow from the loss of his father of course and he still harbored a now pointless anger towards his Uncle Reginald but there were other, more complicated emotions as well. In his heart he now felt an indescribable amalgam of fear, confusion, and an odd species of excitement. All his life, Jonathan had known that his father shared some deep secret with his uncle. As far back as he could remember, Jonathan could recall the two men huddled in his fathers office, speaking in hushed tones. On more than one occasion they had closed the door so that Jonathan couldn't hear their arguments; those nights had usually ended with his uncle storming out of the tiny house slamming the door behind him. Afterwards Jonathan's father would seem weary and distant, ordering Jonathan not to enter his office before retiring to his bedroom upstairs.
Now the heaviness of loss settled on Jonathan along with a profound loneliness. With a deep sigh he placed the key in the pocket of his jeans and left the house. As he started up the engine of the rusty old Chevy pickup and backed out of the driveway to head to his uncle's house, Jonathan felt tears well up in his eyes. Uncle Reginald had been all he had left and now even he was gone. He visualized his uncle's face in his mind: his high cheek bones and receding hairline so much like Jonathan's father's, his piercing blue-green eyes, and his always tidily trimmed beard. In spite of his sadness though, Jonathan couldn't help feeling a sense of anticipation. He would finally know the secret the two men had kept for so long. It wouldn't replace the men themselves, but by shedding light on the mystery he would come to know them more deeply and for that Jonathan was grateful.
He found the closet just as described in the letter. With the false wall pulled aside, the wooden box was revealed. It was a mostly plain box bearing little ornamentation. The lock was simple and undecorated. The only remarkable detail of the outside was a carved message etched into the varnished grain of the box's lid. "Revelation 13:18 and above that "Revelation 20:1-3". Jonathan turned the key in the lock and lifted the lid.
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