Kevin Wikse by Kevin Wikse.

 

Kevin Wikse is the lead operative of the REDACTED. He oversees and directs the REDACTED operational activities, including which strategies and tactics it will employ. Kevin Wikse began his career as a psychic and medium early in childhood, pressed into a secret program called Project CHERUBIM while still in elementary school. Kevin Wikse is what in the UFO community is called an experiencer and a generational abductee. 

Kevin Wikse is among the most accomplished Remote Viewers and Remote Influencers worldwide. He is globally recognized for his understanding of Metaphysics, and his accomplishments and accuracy place him in the regular employ of government officials, private researchers, and captains of industry. Kevin Wikse's longstanding predictions for the 2020 Global Pandemic, vaccines, lock-down-specific technology and protocols, and civil unrest are well documented. 

No other psychic or remote viewer in the world predicted this event, and certainly not with the level of stunning accuracy and willingness to be public with their predictions as Kevin Wikse. 

Perhaps the less said about Kevin Wikse's spectral influence behind the demise of billionaire child sex trafficker Jeffery Epstein, the better, but that, too, is publicly documented. 

Kevin Wikse is also on record as the first Remote Viewer in 2017 to call the Oumuamua Asteroid, what is it, a fully automated interplanetary scout to collect and transmit recorded information about our planet from ancient monitoring satellites, including the infamous Black Knight Satellite. Kevin Wikse accurately "saw" the ignition of gigantic engines or machines (black pyramids, too), radio bursts, and other energy projections happening under and coming up from the ice in Antarctica. NASA confirmed what Kevin Wikse saw in press releases a few weeks later. 

Kevin Wikse has been publicly sounding the alarm concerning the upcoming Pole Shift global cataclysm for over a decade. He continues to routinely accurately predict geo-political circumstances involving various quasi-governmental organizations which are not in humanity's best interest. 

Kevin Wikse maintains psychic defense and astral protection for numerous high-profile individuals. He does this using an exceptionally powerful Egregore (an astral entity) he inherited from his spiritual mentor, who inherited it from his spiritual mentor. Kevin Wikse is commonly recruited into psychic warfare campaigns, successfully thwarting attempts at psychic espionage, preventing remote influencing, and bulwarking against the interference of interdimensional non-human intelligence. 

As a remote healer, the influence possessed by Kevin Wikse has resulted in smoother procedures, significantly less anxiety, and accelerated healing times.  

-Kevin Wikse

Lead operative at REDACTED

Remote Viewing & Remote Influencing

Sea Maau Hok Hung Gar Boxing Set by Kevin Wikse.

The "Sea Maau Hok," or Three Shapes: Cat, Crane, and Snake combined fist boxing, is a lesser-known set taught and maintained by only a select few schools of Hung Gar. This method was choreographed sometime circa 1940 or 1950 by Sifu Leung Wing Haang in a fastly modernizing city of Hong Kong. The Sea Maau Hok is not from the Shaolin Temple or is hundreds of years old. This helps explain its unique composition in comparison to older Hung Gar sets, which had all or most of their formulation within the walls of Shaolin.

During the mid-1900s, the streets of Hong Kong were bustling, extraordinarily crowded, and dangerous. Numerous family clans and societies were vying for control of those streets. Bloody gang wars were fought to hold or expand territory, protect economic interests, and show whose Clan, Family, and or Society was the best in Martial Arts. Demonstrating superior martial skills meant your school attracted more students, and your gang became wealthier and more influential. 

The Boxer Rebellion and Secret Societies spent the past few decades openly sharing the secrets of their masters with one another, secrets many swore blood oaths never to reveal. They did this to preserve China, especially Southern China, from foreign and domestic threats. 

By 1950, Kung Fu had undergone a mixed martial arts revolution. The gun and Western Boxing had been introduced to China, as had Japanese Jujitsu/Judo and Karate. Kung Fu was in serious need of an upgrade. 

Another point of consideration is that the new Kung Fu styles developed in Hong Kong were specific for street fighting and dueling, not formation fighting on a battlefield. The monastic lifestyle did not influence these new styles of Kung Fu either. Gang members in Hong Kong were not monks. They had jobs and side hustles. Families and territories to protect. They could not afford to train 8 hours a day and then another 6 hours of meditation and contemplation of religious doctrine. 

The Buddhist nature of the Shaolin-derived martial arts faded and grew distant. These were no more arts of self-defense and protection of others. Instead, reformulated to be aggressive and offensively minded. 

These renovations to Chinese martial arts are evident within the Sea Maau Hok. This modern set serves as a notable distinction in the advancement of Kung Fu, and Hung Gar in particular. Rebel Shaolin Monks and Hung Clan, fighters of the Boxer Rebellion, gained fame as virtuous champions of the Chinese people and engaged in exploits worthy of Chinese opera. Through globalization and foreign-inspired industrialization, their descendants become cynical members of quasi-criminal organizations struggling to survive the rat race of city life—the transformation from wild Tigers to scrappy ally cats. 

The Cat, Crane, and Snake combined fist boxing set is a fighting form in the purest sense. All its techniques are arranged in a highly logical fashion. A near-limitless number of 3 to 5-count combinations can be extracted directly from the form and drilled into the thousands of reps. Cat, Crane, and Snake's combined fist boxing set keep with Hung Gar's prime combat theory of cross-sectional interception and attacking the adversary's flank. 

The Sea Maau Hok does this in several ways. It employs many long arm or long bridge techniques from the ancient Vajramushti/Lama Pai(Lion's Roar) adopted and heavily utilized by Hung Gar and Choy La Fut. Using cross and zig-zag (seven-star) stepping to simultaneously retreat or avoid while attacking, using compound circular blocking methods common to Crane and Snake. Sifu Leung Wing Haang introduced rooster hops, deceptive small one-legged multi-directional jumps for outmaneuvering an adversary, and can be used as tricky foot stomps to break toes and ankles. 

The Sea Maau Hok is a "softer" set within Hung Gar's lineage, imparting the redirection of force, small circular movements, and minor angular alterations of attack and defense rather than large movement sweeping wedging and displacement. The cat movements of this set are a variation of the Tiger and Leopard of Hung Gar's traditional five animals. The cat is more diminutive and shares characteristics of both but is neither—the cat's techniques are that of an ally cat's. They appear as Tiger and Leopard but are light, sneaky, unconventional, and underhanded in the application.

The Crane and the Snake naturally also apply the principles of Yin over Yang. The Sea Maau Hok frequently uses circular crane wing blocks and deflections, crane beak pecks to the ears, eyes, and temples, and whipping open hand strikes that cause tremendous pain. The Snake entangles, entraps, and ensnares an adversary's arms, leaving them open to strikes to the same targets favored by the Crane, including the throat and solar plexus. The Snake employs low-line kicks to the inside and outside of the ankles and knees, quickly kicking up into the groin. 

The Cat, Crane, and Snake combined fist boxing set are not absent of heavy-handed shots to the head or heart of an adversary. Tiger and Fire Element techniques of straight-line strikes to the heart center and bludgeoning hammer strikes to the skull are showcased, and one is encouraged to train them. Still, they are minor roles within the Sea Maau Hok sequence. 

Unlike most older Hung Gar forms, the Sea Maau Hok does not contain any dynamic tension movements prevalent in the pillar sets of Hung Gar (Taming the Tiger, Tiger Crane, Five Animals, and Iron Wire). Due to its softer, more yielding nature and emphasis on redirection and avoidance, the Cat, Crane, and Snake combined fist boxing set forgoes Iron Bridge and Iron Body conditioning in the abovementioned pillar sets. 

The Sea Maau Hok is a set that meets the need for efficient street-fighting using concepts familiar to Hung Gar while filling in the gaps for someone who may need more time to train as hard as traditional Hung Gar requires. But at the same time will lend itself to highly dedicated training and provide a plethora of tested and proven drills and combos for direct application, blending in seamlessly with the Hung Gar curriculum. 

As both a longtime student of Chinese martial arts and someone who has trained for and applied techniques of Sea Maau Hok, I can attest to its validity. The cat techniques, in particular, are versatile and reliable while grappling for a dominant position. Cat claws can also distract an adversary so that you can deliver a potentially fight-ending kill shot. For example, a quick fingertip raking of their eyes and seizing their left ear to hold them in place with your right hand, followed by an immediate snake tongue strike into and down their windpipe with your left. 

I continue to train the Sea Maau Hok set I have inherited. Teaching is available to all who are righteous and courageous. Our world is now populated and almost entirely governed by greedy, self-entitled, violent pro-pedophile cowards who scream for authoritarianism. You likely will encounter these lunatics. It would be best if you were prepared and ready. You should find a martial arts or combat sports gym that will train you and train you right. 

If you want to know more about my tradition of Red Door Clan Hung Gar, please get in touch with me directly. 

-Kevin Wikse

Kevin Wikse's Martial Arts Repository 

Metal Element Purification by Kevin Wikse.

The Metal element is 1/5th of the Daoist system of the Pancha Tattwa Shuddi or 5 elemental purifications. 

Metal Element energy is the organic wiring for the bio-electric circuitry for the flesh-droid known as the human being. The most significant accumulation of Metal Element energy in the human physical body is found first in the brain, then the spine, and lasting tapering along into the mass ganglia of the nervous centers, or the "three brains" (the brain for mental intelligence, the heart for emotional intelligence and the Hara, or lower dan tien for body intelligence). 

Increasing Metal Element energy sharpens the intellect, clarifies thinking, and sharpens focus. However, excessive Metal elemental energy can cause mental rigidity and fixation. While this is rare, especially today when most people significantly lack Metal energy, it remains a consideration.

Frequent and regular activation of an individual's Metal element stimulates the bio-electrical response, illuminating the psychic nodes (meridians, nadis, chakras, etc.) of the subtle body and eliciting tremendous healing and toning of both the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems. This will strengthen and enlarge one's energetic atmosphere or auric field, empowering all internal functions and processes. 

The metal element also relates to the respiratory/pulmonary systems maintaining a "handshake," with the Fire element governing the heart/cardio. An increase in lung capacity and uptake of oxygen will result. The more oxygen available, the better one's brain function and more awareness of the subtle or etheric energy bodies occur. It's a highly beneficial cycle. 

The Metal element is strongest during the Fall/Autumn season. There is a seasonal practice that incorporates this energy. But, the following Metal energy activation exercise, or Qigong, can and should be done daily and performed first as it acts as an "on-switch" for other psychic currents within your body. This will be of immense value to the aspiring astralnaut or vimana pilot. 

Charging the Field

Standing with the palms of your hands facing just below your navel, about three inches away from your body, and with the tips of your middle fingers an inch apart. Imagine in the middle of each of the palms of your hands a ball of pure white light the size of a ping-pong ball. As you inhale, keep your palms facing your body, raising them in front of your body, up your face, over and behind your head, and facing your occiput (the bump on the back of your skull where the spine connects). 

Now on the exhale, retrace your path, palms facing your body, up behind and over your skull, and down the front of your body to just below your navel. This is "one." Do this for 21 repetitions every day. 

Do this energetic exercise with your eyes closed. As the palms of your hands pass over your eyes, you will likely see energy spirals or a "static charge." 

You will experience energetic activation sensations, a more robust and brighter auric field continually cleared of etheric parasites, psychic sludge, and astral filth. Your thinking will improve, and your concentration/focus will firm up significantly. Over time you will experience deeper psychic impressions, and people will be magnetically attracted to you. Steady increases in health and vitality. All other energy work will be smoother, and their effects more impactful. 

Report back often for your next assignment. 

-Kevin Wikse

Astral Defense Force

The Fell Wind Prophecy by Kevin Wikse

On Friday, September 21, 2018, GULAND, demonic intelligence (he that causeth and cureth all diseases) of the Grimorium Verum, channeled through me during my mediumship session with him what is now known globally as the "Fell Wind Prophecy." No other psychic, medium, or channeler and I mean no other, came anywhere near my accuracy. You really should concern yourself with what I am being told about the very near future. 

I evoked the Demonic force of  GULAND to the astral plane and consulted him through my crystal ball. 

Fuck all the pretenders. Their work is complete trash, and they literally are going to get you killed. 

-Kevin Wikse

The Fell Wind Prophecy

"On my words is carried a viral message. Sweeping across the sphere, roaring over the water and screaming in the winds with unnatural speed, given swiftness by artificial propulsion (1). The black air, already with death as a passenger, once concealed and contained in the fetid lungs of the inoculated black skinned, oh they ached and writhed. Buried in mass graves, to ferment and fester. An old and efficient death, who when last spoke her message, half of the white skinned feel to their knees, and in sobs to a sacrificed lamb died in confusion and lament. Gnawed on by rats, who where being gnawed on by death's champion. The black winged fouler takes to the air again. Across the ocean she will fly, mouthing in silence the names of the millions who she will claim (2), who will die screaming her name through phlegm, and snot, and gurgle (3). From the land of the yellow skinned (4) will she depart. Long in the works and by design. She has now a prefect vessel built for her nocturnal ride. Those who suppose themselves to speak on air and through lighting. The rotten and poisoned Apple (5), polished by the dragon and sold back to the eagle...who took a bite (6).  

The fell wind comes, over the waves, held, suspended in the air by buoyant particulates (7), a dread ship set sail on the clouds. The weather will be made perfect for her voyage, by voltage and magnetic fields. Her landing has already been prepared. Injected with medicine from the land of the yellow skinned at birth till now, the stage a theater of encoded bio-chemistry, set to receive her venom with thunderous applause (8). Virulent upon virulent. The eyes, and ears of the dragon in near every hand and pocket, near the mouth and the nose, and the ear of the eagle's people. From these little talking boxes will come highly sophisticated instructions carried by vibration and emitted frequency (9). The dragon, the sickness and the carrier will all speak. The message constant, the meaning: mutate. Close to the body the illness will hear the dire whispering of the dragon (10).

The sick will tell on themselves. Report on themselves. Post pictures, make fliers and plaster them on a profile they share with the others who wane (11). The dragon will calculate when to openly strike. First by subduing the right talon as the eagle's left is currently ripping at itself. Second by grasping the virtual throat and silencing the electronic voice, then by boots on the land of the eagle, trampling over the sick, the sick who helped fund their own invasion. (12) They have sold you out, the factions of the land of the eagle who have eaten your children, drank their blood and placed them on altars. They seek the embrace of the dragon because they fear the claws of the eagle. The dragon will publicly devour them, like Rome paraded the kings and queens of conquered peoples in cages (13). These traitors see that the Anglo-Saxon conspiracy has failed, and the protocols of Zion as good as the word of a Zionist. They know their sickness has been uncovered, the blue wave they spoke incantations for has become a red wave which promises to drown them all (14).

Look the west for it dawns as the sunsets. You will hear the cough as the time of casting lots begins, the rattle in the lungs, the clearing of throats will increase. The dragon will come only when the eagle lays gasping." (15).

A list of exceedingly reasonable estimations is followed based on what happened and educated guesses for the future. 

1. A virus or viral contagion. It could be deployed by drones using skin-piecing nanotechnology. 
2. The message is that many, many will die from this virus.
3. A respiratory disease, trouble breathing, and mass deaths caused by forced ventilators. 
4. A clear indication of China's involvement. 
5. Under Cuomo, the mass murder of people in elderly homes and hospitals in New York. 
6. This a sign that Anthony Fauci sold his research to the Wuhan Lab in China, which sold it back to him. 
7. A mention of early COVID-19s ability to live on surfaces and hang in the air. What gave rise to the cleaner, bleach, and mask idiocy. 
8. The vaccine. The media rollout and the public near unquestioning acceptance. 
9.  GULAND is speaking about how systemic China's spyware was discovered to be embedded into our electronics. ZOOM, which was almost universally used for all school, work, and even government meetings, is owned by CHINA. TIK-TOK also saw a meteoric rise in popularity during LockDown, also owned by China. 
10. The 5G rollout. 5G does have a profound effect on the human cellular structure. GULAND says that the nanotech within the m/RNA gene therapy or vaccines is being directed and updated by the 5G. 
11. The vaccinated's targeting of the unvaccinated and called for forced quarantine camps. The phone app reported who you were next to, interacted with, or even passed by. The proposed vaccine passport. The contract tracers were going door to door, incentivizing reporting on your neighbors and collecting information on who lived where and if they were vaccinated or not. 
12. China quietly declared another 30-year war on America. Their spies, spy devices, and Fentanyl were already deployed, waging war against us and killing American citizens. They wait for the perfect moment to go from a cold war to a hot war, with an invasion of America.
13. The media's endless war against President Donald Trump and conservative values.  
14. The many factions of neo-liberalism have now begun to turn on themselves. The Left eats its own. Their Marxist, pro-abortion (a form of (depopulation), pro-pedophile, and morally bankrupting youth-based agenda has exposed itself. The rise of traditional American values will be the result.
15. ANOTHER respiratory pandemic will be required to finish America off. Ebola-like or maybe a Marburg virus. 

See the 2018 ORIGINAL blog post here.

-Kevin Wikse

Kevin Wikse vs. The Men in Black by Kevin Wikse

Circa 1993 or 1994, I became acquainted with a Ufologist named Phil Schnieder, who I met after his presentation in Idaho Falls, Idaho. His death in 1996 was ruled a suicide. However, I and many others point to murder. Phil said he probably would not be alive much longer because of what he revealed. I have been told he was referring to his terminal cancer, but I suspect differently. 

I helped build and run a U.F.O. and conspiracy website in the late 90s and early 2000s, much of it focusing on Phil Schnieder's information and death. If memory serves, the website was through Geo-Cities. The website disappeared around 2006 after a long string of threats of violence and what we know today as doxing. When this experience happened, the website was already gone. I was meeting a friend in Los Angeles, CA, to discuss a new Phil Schnieder and U.F.O. project.

This experience cemented in me the vital importance of regular strength training. It also opened up new interests, such as the dedicated study and practice of Eye Gazing found within Hindu Tartaka meditation and the eye fascination of French Mesmerism. 

I would also like to connect with and discuss with others who have had M.I.B. encounters. I recapitulate this event often. The trauma is not easily overcome. Writing and talking about it is a great way to heal and express. It reminds me that I can handle anything if I can survive such an encounter.  

I have also been told that my experience leading up to the M.I.B. encounter matches the descriptions of directed energy or sonic weapons used against Targeted Individuals or T.I. These weapons reportedly induce wild shifts in mood and cause overwhelming anxiety in their targets.

__________________________________________________

I was driving from Idaho to California when I entered Nevada. It was a sunny August day on the I-15, and I was making good time. As I crossed the Nevada state line, I started focusing on this stretch of interstate's more eerie qualities. This realization came over me like a creeping sense of dread. Little by little, mile after mile, it consumed my thoughts.

A sudden wave of panic hit me so hard that I thought I was blindsided by a vehicle. I white-knuckled the steering wheel and stomped the brakes. The once wide open and beautiful desert fast became a vast wasteland of soul-crushing isolation.

I took a few moments to collect myself. Sweat trickled down my forehead as I sat frozen in fear. I felt like something was chasing me, but there was nothing, just an empty road ahead and behind me. After a few minutes of controlled breathing, the panic dissipated enough for me to tentatively step on the gas.

After I got rolling, another internal conflict started to stir inside me. My inner chatter began debating whether I should continue driving to California, or at least Las Vegas (less than an hour away), or pull over and wait until these feelings passed. From every logical perspective pulling over was a foolish idea. However, I could not shake the feeling of despair and near panic. Soon I caught myself vividly imagining how someone might commit suicide in the desert. The urge to wallow in these dangerous thoughts was so persistent it was becoming difficult to remember where I was going.

A chill went through me. I wasn't driving at all but idling on the side of the road. How long had I been like this? I did not know, but I knew something was wrong. Was I going to die here? My immediate answer was no. A flash of white-hot anger exploded in my brain for reasons born out of pure survival instinct. I gunned it, pedal to the metal. I tore down the road, fully determined to escape this nightmare and get to California.

The feeling of progressing forward was exhilarating, and I breathed sighs of relief. I was in the process of filing away the ordeal when flashing blue lights grabbed my attention. An honest "what the fuck” moment as a black sedan with its visor lights on full blast dominated my rearview mirror. All my prior psychodrama completely vanished at the arrival of one all-encompassing thought, "Where the fuck did that pig come from?!". In disbelief, I eased off the gas and veered to the side of the road. I mused the vehicle might pass me by; maybe it was en route to an emergency. But my vain hope evaporated when the black sedan decreased its speed and slowly crept in behind me.

Retrieving my license and registration, I readied myself to provide one-worded answers to the crafted questions from an asshole with both a badge and a quota. Minutes passed, but the black sedan just sat there. I recognized the mind games, and I would not be rattled. Waiting for an officer to exit allowed me to make two notable observations concerning the vehicle. First, it was minus a front license plate; second, the windshield was tinted. Neither implication sat well with me. 

When the driver's side door finally opened, an imposing creature appeared. At 6'6 or 6'7, he was lanky and a bit gangly. He resembled a Dick Tracy villain in his black trench coat and fedora. But no matter how cartoonish this skinny ogre looked, the violence he carried in his face was no laughing matter.

He didn't walk but instead marched towards me. He stopped abruptly, maybe a foot from my driver's side door. Stooping down and leaning in a little to meet me face-to-face. We eyed each other, but neither of us spoke. His gaze was cruel. His eyes had the tint of albinism pink. I knew, whatever he was, he wasn't a cop or an F.B.I. agent, at least not the "on books" kind. 

As vicious as it was, his unblinking glare possessed a fascinating quality. Intuitively I knew I ran the risk of becoming hypnotized by it. I kept breaking eye contact with him and checked my rearview mirror. He noticed this and spoke. 

"Just what the fuck do you think you will see back there?" he said, breaking the silence in an odd, maybe purposely distorted, high-pitched voice.

"Well, aren't there usually two of you clowns?" I replied, toggling my attention between his stare and my rearview mirror.

His eyes flared at my question. I finally noticed he had no eyebrows or eyelashes. His face reminded me of a burn victim's. His skin did not seem real. Waxy-yellow in color. His face was hairless, with ultra-thin lips and a small vertical ridge for a nose. 

The pitchiness of his voice grew sterner, "What do you mean there are usually two of us clowns?!" he questioned, unhitching his fixed gaze on me and looking back to the black sedan.

"I am not exactly sure what type of clown you are or who else might come piling out of your clown car, but I know you are no cop, and I am under no legal obligation to stay here," I replied, matching his sterner tone and reaching for my keys.

"You are not sure of anything, are you, Kevin? And not for a while now. You don't know how you feel. You don't know what you are doing in that shit show you call your life. Certainly, you don't know where you are going, not now or in general", he retorted, emphasizing my name and widening his eyes as he re-trained his stare at me.

He likely sensed mild distress in me after dropping my name and eluding to the high strangeness I recently experienced. 

"You are not going anywhere. Your erratic and unsafe driving will probably get you killed. But what will get you killed is the "crazy person" shit you post online. You sound like a real goddamn fucking lunatic on your website. That is some real loony bin material you are cranking out. Aliens and U.F.O.s, that is crazy talk! Someone ought to have you committed somewhere. You need some fucking help, Kevin." He growled and showed his teeth, stretching his thin lips to reveal tiny, sharp-looking teeth like a piranha's.

The gravitas of my situation was not lost on me. The idea of being "disappeared" by this entity ignited a secondary explosion of white-hot defiance in my brain.

"I make you two promises, you aberrant fish-faced mutant fuck! I am not going anywhere with you, and I will post this online!" I growled back and went to fire up my truck.

"Well, looks like we are about to have another missing person," he roared and lunged at me.

His speed was surprising, but the force with which he slammed his elongated body into the side of my truck startled me. He was astonishingly strong. He seized my throat with his right hand, and I could barely prevent being wholly manhandled by him. His long-fingered and slender left hand swatted my right hand away from the keys, still in the ignition, and clamped down on my wrist with unexpected authority. He wanted those keys, and we both knew I would be fucked if he got them.

The years of crushing closed heavy hand grippers till blood dribbled out from underneath my fingernails, ripping giant monster-class kettlebells off the ground to overhead till the skin on my hands tore open, and swinging large clubs and maces till my forearm muscles swelled so much I couldn't make a fist, were all being called into action. 

I shifted my body as best I could to better square up with him. I snaked my right hand under and over his left wrist. I cleverly outwrestled his wrist grab, now pinning his left side against the steering wheel with my right, securing it with as much strength and body weight as I could marshal. Reaching up with my free hand, I grasped his right thumb and curtly peeled it back and away from my throat, feeling his thumb either break or dislocate inside my grip.

This maneuver cleared away his right arm enough so I could pepper his fishy face with a few short-range jabs. However, they lacked the sting I felt he deserved, so I forced fed his mouth and strange nose my elbow instead. Those seemed like they hurt. Unfortunately for me, he was just getting warmed up. He answered by raining down a barrage of retaliatory rights with scary force. I brought my thickly muscled forearm and shoulder together, clasping the back of my head, forming a meat shield to bear the brunt of his assault. I shudder when I think about the fate which would've awaited me had punches gotten through and knocked me unconscious.

My survival lay in keeping his left hand pinned against the wheel. This simple tactic prevented him from grabbing my keys, re-establishing distance, achieving better positioning, pulling a weapon, or other possibilities that could quickly spell out my doom.

He had me like a cornered animal. Thankfully that animal was a lion. I knew I could not keep his hand pinned forever. I was a cornered lion, and him the tiger I had by his tail. Being inside the truck also limited his actions against me and restricted my options. I was being crushed between a rock and a hard place. Having reached this dour stalemate, we continued to tear at each other. If not for self-preservation, then out of sheer frustration.

He was really tenderizing my left arm with his punches. My shoulder and tricep were starting to cramp, and soon, my meat shield would be breached. I had to make a move. I transformed my left thumb into a vengeful spike and drove it hard and deep into his earhole. I redirected his focus through sudden and unexpected pain. I quickly latched onto his ear with a vice-tight pinch grip. I sacrificed the pin I had over his left hand for a wrist grab, and by his ear and wrist, I yanked him into the truck.

He was now genuinely face-to-face with me but so close and off-balance he couldn't leverage his strength to injure me. Bent over and sideways, he was high-centered over my truck's window. His lower body was dangling out the side. 

I would make my play. I noticed a screwdriver tucked into a utility pouch behind the passenger's seat during our grapple, and I desperately needed a weapon. I attempted to serpentine my left arm, under his left arm, around the back of his neck. A half-nelson hold barring and securing him. I hoped to quickly reach back for the screwdriver with my right hand. He felt his opening when I let go of his wrist and immediately clawed at my eyes. Knowing how strong he was and how vulnerable my eye would be, I had no choice but to defend my eyes instead of going for the screwdriver. Twisting to his belly, he almost slithered back out the window. He tried to escape.

His establishing distance meant almost certain death for me. Again I brought my years of hoisting heavy iron and club swinging to bear against him. I lassoed him in a side headlock with my left and extremely battered arm, then, inch by agonizing inch, ratcheted him back in. I forced his left arm down with my right arm and trapped it between my knees. At last, I had him secured. 

It was now or never. 

I grabbed the screwdriver and pulled it from the utility pouch like Excalibur from the stone. Employing the screwdriver as an ice pick, I savagely perforated his face and the top of his skull, rendering his head a block of Swiss cheese. I was shocked to see that his blood was red. I was not expecting that.

If I thought he was strong before, I hadn't seen anything yet. He must have had a white-hot explosion of his own (inspired in the way only a screwdriver to the face can) as he thrashed about with such rage I lost total control of him. He launched himself back out the window. He fell prone onto the asphalt with his large mutant hands covering his face, writhing and screaming. I was tempted to get out of my truck to finish him off and perhaps claim a piece of him. However, survival tactics trumped trophy hunting, and I fired up my truck instead. I peeled out from the side of the road, leaving him and whoever else might have been in that black sedan in the dust.

My paranoia subsided when I reached Los Angeles. It would be days later before I wasn't routinely checking over my shoulder, more than usual. If my special M.I.B friend should ever read this, I've kept my promises to you.

I am ready to finish it whenever you are. 

-Kevin Wikse

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