Unsettled, The story of Jonty Williams.

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WARNING excessive violence




Unsettled

I waved to my house from beside the taxi. So much history was soaked into those walls, three generations of first steps. With all of the other grubby houses down that road ours was the one that stood out. It was it's polished wood walls and tall windows. At night we'd light lanterns and hang them on each side of the front door for all of the neighbourhood to glare at.

I stared off from the house to see a swing. A thick plank of wood tied by rope to a tall lemon tree. Though all of the lemons were rotten and the tree was not showing any sign of growing any more. This was the (very large) grassy garden. The property was guarded by a tall wooden fence. The garden didnt really have much else than the swing but the mini tree's that multiplied along the fence all the way around were enough enjoyment. We'd run and hide and play various games crawling through the bushes and branches like caves. We'd have to move as fast we could as the giant stomping creature would break through behind us and pull us out.

The wind suddenly blew sweeping past the bell that hung above the front door. My Grandad always wanted to own a shop, just a little corner shop. His favourite thing was to have garage sales... in the living room. He'd buy stuff just to sell it because of the thrill of being his own boss. He was quite strange like that. But I never minded playing shop with the plastic food and drinks as well as various toys around the house.

"Where are you heading?" The taxi driver said to my surprise. I had zoned out. The taxi driver didn't realise this was the last time i'd see the house i'd lived in all of my life. "Drive until i tell you to stop."
And that money metre kept on rising. The pounds even went up when the vehicle was stopped at traffic lights. The taxi pulled into a petrol station and parked by the pumps. "Won't be a minute."
He walked off into the shop, his figure became blurry through the window and soon disapeared behind shelves of chocolate bars. I stared up at the blinking metre, still rising even as i sat there. that couldn't be right.
I pushed open the door and stepped out feeling the cold breeze hit my face. It had been ever so warm in the car. As i closed the door behind me i could hear the gossiping radio turn to mumble. I had my backpack with me, all my possessions. I lifted it with my right hand and fitted my arms through. Then i stood up straight breathing in that cold petrol air.

Why was i leaving my house? The house we'd lived in for so many years? My grandparents, my parents and us? I was leaving because of the dark in the night. Because of the people under the bed. My name is not important, not in the scale of things. My age is as as young as an adult can be to cope with such things.
"Why are you out of car?" I heard the taxi driver behind me as i stepped closer towards some bush, packed bag on my back. "Hey! You!" His voice eventually faded. His money cares were now nothing to do with me. I had a schedule to keep and if that fat cabbie is going to stop for a bar of chocolate so be it. But i was not going to miss this deadline.

It was nature from then on, walking on my own. If i were thinking straight at the time i'd have noticed the birds, the sunlight through the trees. The unique colours and lights that shone across the ground at sunny day time. But in my view i only saw red.
As i walked the trees surrounding me got further away leaving me even more alone. This was until i came across the centre tree. This grew red glowing fruit from bottom to top. A man was leaning across the tree, smoking.
"Williams! Jonty Williams!" He shouted waving the cigarette with unsettled humour. My wondering face turned to a straight frown as i noticed him. I stopped in place, my mountain boots kicking up a storm of sand.
"You kept to the time, have you got the DVD?"
This is of course what happens when you make films all of your life, one of them will make someone angry.
My documentary had revealed an underground group of blood thirsty murderers. I interviewed a chain of people until they led me to the final place. After staring through a rabbit hole of cobwebs i found what looked to be a giant bomb shelter hidden under the soil of this very park. The reason for murder was not any of a religious nature, not revenge or political. They were cannibals. If it was not for my big mouth my family would not be dead. My camera by my side i captured the extra ordinary footage of the group at work.
The film was going to be released like any good feature length documentary. A whole bunch of research to fill up the beginning and middle and then a good fulfilling ending. I had studied into this for years until i finally found them and that was my fulfilling ending.

The one that i hoped would get the authorities attention and make me a well remembered film maker.
But after releasing information of my film to various commisioners and competitions the word got out and even made the news. The whole country was waiting for the release. This is exactly how sick the world is, they want to see this horrible sight (In it's edited form) on their big screen cinemas. Wide screen bone crunching Documentary action.
Based on how quickly information spreads due to the popularity of internet and television my Mother was killed on that afternoon.
It was dark, the crickets sung. She was hanging up the washing and breathing in that fresh air only the night gives. The less you can see, the more you notice based on the human senses.

Oddly enough it was a microwave to the head. The heavy metal box smashed into the back of her skull and pushed her to the ground. Blood droplets on the grass blades, glass in her skin. They left the bloody microwave lying in the long grass waiting for the mornings eyes. The body was dragged from her legs over the fence and crushed into a garbage bag. This left a shiny red splash along the polished wood. My younger sister was the first to see it. It is difficult to recall.

I had no idea this was to do with the film at that point. I was still in total shock and straining to understand what was going on. At the same time i tried to ignore everything lost and control myself to look after what i still had. I took care of my sister well, i bought her a small tent to put in my holiday room (I lived up in Cornwall but often came to visit my family a few times a year). She was always in that tent, reading comics and clicking the torch on and off. She was 5 and didn't really understand what was going on. Her shock was that her mother had gone to heaven, but she did not know how or why. Well, no one knew why.
My grandparents told her that some hooligans had thrown a microwave over the fence in a drunken state. Though i don't think she understood that either.
My father was away on a skiing trip with work. He was planning to come back this week but ended up breaking his leg. We never found time to tell him about my mother before he disapeared over seas.

It was another horribly gloomy and claustrophobic morning for me as i wondered down the stairs to answer the piercing phone. I picked it up, it was a woman. She had a calm voice but very quiet. It was like she was trying to avoid me even though she couldn't have been much further away. She was apparently at the skiing lodge asking whether my father contacted us.
We got no replies from his mobile for a week. We were organising a quiet funeral for my mother. It was generous of the group to leave the garbage bag in the neighbours backyard.

That was when i got the letter. It slid through the door and patted lightly on the *Welcome to the store* mat below.
I slowly leant down and picked it up noticing my sketchy name from a far distance.
"Jonty Williams, film maker.
I suppose you didn't get our messege. We've been watching you. We expected you to destroy it but you didn't.
I will meet you at the town centre tommorow at 2 o clock.
See you then.
- You can guess."

It had finally dawned on me that I was to blame for my mothers death. Though i stood with the letter shaking in my hand for a very long time. In a slight dramatic act i pressed the letter into my pocket and roamed off to sit down.
I sat for a very long time.
I was very scared, i was scared for myself and for my family. I had killed my mother through an act of creativity and popularity.
I sat down, sinking into the sofa staring at the letter. I subtly noticed the sun disapearing and then rising through the blinds beside me. Soon the letter was soaked with tears.

"Do you want to buy a pack of strawberries Jonty?" My sister was skipping around the living room in front of me. "We can go down to the local. They have the loveliest strawberries."
I nodded with a weak smile.

At the store i saw a whole new light. The world was colourful and bright, it had been so long sat in darkness. There were rings under my eyes as i stumbled after my skipping sister. She roamed the shop for chocolate and drinks, more than asked originally.
Because i was so tired and lost in thought i ended up buying almost everything she put on the counter.

The television was on when we got home. It had gotten dark by the time we'd entered the front hall. The light from the TV was blinking in a bright white over the walls.
"Come on, off to bed." I said finally cheering up a little, nudging my sister up the stairs. As usual she skipped up to the holiday room and leaped into her small triangular tent switching the torch on to read a comic.

I walked into the dim lit kitchen and poured myself some chocolate milk.
After feeling the cold milk slide down my throat i relaxed all of my muscles. In my head i was thinking, this, is the time to totally relax. Calm, and think of nothing but happiness.
This didn't last long when i noticed the time. It was 9 o clock the day after i got the letter.
"I will meet you at the town centre tommorow at 2 o clock."

A sudden chill shot through my body.
I pulled the blanket over me in bed and stared up at the ceiling. The room was pitch black apart from a torchlight dimmed through the tent. It moved from side to side every now and then when she turned a page.

Luckily my eyes slowly shut.
Then i heard the scream. It was the high pitched scream of a 5 year old girl in shock. I pulled myself up and turned to the side staring down. The torchlight was stuck on the shocked face of my sister staring. Her pupils had become larger in the darkness, though she did not move, not even a twitch.
"What is it?" I asked worried. At this point in time i had no memory of any incident with a letter, a murder or even having a career in film making. When awoken from sleep in such a shocking way you think of nothing and rarely pay attention to the thing that woke you up.
She had stopped screaming but her face was the same.
I slowly leant over following her point of view. This lead me to look under my bed. Two crumpled up bodies lay motionless, crushed together. Blood puddles expanded out from underneath and onto my sisters hands and knees.
She lifted her hands slowly in shock and placed them upon her face leaving a blood stain dripping from her cheeks.

I'd like to say i was a hero and helped my sister avoid eyes of such horror. I'd like to say i picked her up and ran for a rainbow. But i blacked out, an odd natural occurance. I blacked out, picked my sister up and crashed into the living room pushing her beside a chair. I threw my head into the back of the the sofa i'd sat earlier and then lost all will to move. I flopped down and closed my eyes. Tears began to flood.
My sister saw who it was, our grandparents. She hugged me. The house had more tears than blood that night.

It was inevitable that my sister would not be there in the morning.
All was a blur until my eyes focused on the day. I pulled myself up and noticed i was no longer on the sofa but on the floor.
I had a pain in my stomach. I looked down and noticed a piece of paper sat there, stapled into my skin. I went woozy, i'm sure if this were a cartoon my face would have been bright green. I quickly ripped the paper from my stomach. It bled a bit, but nothing to worry about, especially when i noticed my sister was gone.
I whaled loudly in distress.
I held the sheet to my eyes and read in a drunken form.
"Jonty Williams, Film Maker.
4 o clock. You know where. Don't tell anyone.
- Us."

And that's why i left the house.
"I waved to my house from beside the taxi. So much history was soaked into those walls"

*

"Yes i have the DVD." I said to the man stood by the tall, healthy tree.
This was one of the people id interviewed a few weeks earlier. Doctor Aran Lemins. Yes that is right, A Doctor. These people of authority i did not expect to be apart of the Cannibal Group. First i contacted a few people that had seen or experienced things relating to my research. These people had put me onto others they had spoken to, those onto others. Soon enough the mark stopped at a few, those in authority, Doctors, Policemen and it is not difficult to pick out The Mayor on the video recording. The video recording of a group of men and women eating at a human leg. The video recording of your local Doctor pouring the blood from a sliced head into a jar for later.

"I want my sister." I was lost in a dark cloud of anger, hatred and revenge. The man was just smiling, holding his cigarette out.
"If you don't hand me the DVD her head will be all we leave for you."
Wrong. I'd done my research. In all of history the underground Cannibal Group had never once eaten a child. As they move along remains are left leaving autopsies the only answer. Though from those a child had never been found. It was something they abided by based on their own children.
If a Doctor can hide that he is a cannibal from you. Then a mother or father could easily hide it from their families.
Though the Doctors and Police always blamed the deaths on wild animals. Now we know why.

"Well i can't stand here all day. I have patients to attent to Mr. Williams." He blew a puff of smoke into the air that faded away in the small wind. The kind of wind that pulls light leaves along the pavement with shifting sounds.
I felt a tear fall from my eye. I imagined my eyes be bloodshot red from both anger and crying. "Let me see her at least." There was desperation in my voice.

"Well if you're going to be like that..." Doctor Lemins turned and walked off. "You know where the entrance is."
I took from this, these words. "You know where we meet, come inside so we can put an end to that."
It was a death trap, as soon as i'd enter i'd be knifed in the back, cut up by surprise. They'd laugh as my sister watched and cried. This was the sort of people they were. But i needed to see her, i needed to save her.

If you've ever made a trap by digging a large hole and then covering the top with sticks, leaves and grass to camouflage it you'll know what the entrance looked like. It was basically that but with a stone door instead of sticks.
From above a person may wipe the leaves away but only find a stone floor, much like a lot of this area. But underneath meet the deadliest group in history.
Of course i'd been there before, i ruined mine and many other lives by doing it. All i am saying, is it is so very hard to forget.
When my exploration came to the stone i was, naturally disappointed. But soon i thought beyond the obvious and explored the soil to find the edges of the stone. This is when i put all my strength in and pushed it aside. Below lit a surprising light undergrowth. The ceiling of the large room below was covered in hanging roots which gave it a nice touch. Then i looked down to see various skulls and blood patches and i knew i'd found the place.
I came back that night and slid the stone ever so slightly away giving the camera it's peak hole. The sounds i heard were enough to make me feel ill let alone the footage.

They were waiting in the darkness below as i slipped down through the hole. My feet patted on the soil below me and i noticed the sudden darkness below. There were about six of them, standing quite far away from me hidden in the shadows. The only one visible was Dr. Alan Lemins. They continued to stare, i took this as a note to close the stone door above me, so i did. I silently shrieked with how heavy it was, one of my fingers getting slowly crushed. When it was done I pulled my self together and stared.
Dr. Lemins spoke: "I've asked them not to kill you. Just in case you've hidden it somewhere it can be found."
I nodded in agreement. In fact, i stupidly had brought the DVD in my back pack. Though they were not to know.
Dr. Lemins: "Did you like your presents?"
Suddenly a shock thriller clip show of images stormed past my eyes. The bloody microwave, the crushed up bodies under the bed and the horrible sound of a human being eaten alive among gossiping murderers.
Dr. Lemins: "Our society is spread over the whole world. There are at least two in every village, ten in every town, 50 in every city."
"The more you tell me, the more i'm likely to die." I said, shaking.
"WRONG! Whether you die or not it does not matter. In the end words can be presumed as insanity. You'd end up in an asylum anyway. But footage can not be ignored after a public view."
Suddenly the cannibals in the shadows started to mumble.
"WHERE IS MY SISTER?" i shouted angry now. I actually felt like i was bending strong metal with my muscles but i held nothing.
The next thing i knew i was knocked out.

When i awoke blurring into shape was a shelf, on the shelf stood jars of blood. This was another soil floor, root ceiling room. Except there was a difference, on one wall of soil and roots were cages. Cages of people. They were screaming, ear piercing screams. Moaning and scratching the metal poles with overgrown fingernails. Their hair was in rough knots and their teeth were missing.
Though one of them seemed to sidetrack me from the horror more than any other. In the centre of the room was my father, in a cage. He was laying with his back to the bars, blood dripping from his head. At the same time as i watched the red liquid drop from him a droplet dropped from my forehead.
I tried to wipe my bloody head with a stoke of an arm but my hand would not move. I turned to see both hands were tied up with thick roots to the walls of the room.
I screamed and shook frantically, my wrists turning red as i struggled. My Father's eyes opened and he stared at me. Both eyes were bloodshot and his arms seemed weak as he put his hand on a front bar.
I was the only one not in a cage in the room. "Father..." I said.
Another lightening bolt of memory as I remembered the happier times. My father, the giant stomping creature that broke through the hedge walls of our backyard and i crawled away laughing as a child.
"Jonty..." He said.
Dr. Lemins appeared suddenly from the darkness.
"Yes, we picked him up on a skiing holiday. Neat huh? I told you we have people all over the world. We thought it would be fun if you chose whos life you wanted to save. Your sisters, or your fathers. It's all apart of the game."
I shook once again in anger. "You make me choose! You'll never get the DVD!"
Dr. Lemins made a unique hand movement, i could tell he was saying. "Look around you." I dreaded to but eventually did anyway.
As i expected my bag was gone. they'd stolen it after thumping me to the ground. Now all i was, was a piece on a chess board to them. I didn't have anything they wanted, they just wanted to watch me squirm.

The Mayor stepped out from the shadows with the shiny DVD in his hand. Dr. Lemins just seemed to watch the Mayor walk agreeing with every notion.
There was a plastic crunch as my father bit on the DVD. "Eat it all," the Mayor spoke as a leader does. I watched as my father bit down and closed his eyes. The Dvd broke in his mouth. Pieces collapsed onto the soil next to his cage.
Lemin's picked a slice of disc from the dirt and stuffed it down my fathers throat. I could not watch so closed my eyes.
"Made a choice yet?" They both stared at me with daunting eyes.

This was the biggest choice i ever had to make. I talk and listen to peoples conversations on streets, in buses. They're always complaining about missing their soaps, having to eat something they don't particularly like. But have they ever had to choose between the lives of their father and their sister?
Well... in all honesty. I was going to choose my sister. The hardest part would be having to listen to my father die as a result.
I remembered my notes, my documentary suddenly. The fact that the Cannibal group don't kill children. They did not know that i knew that. But that did not mean my sister would get away, she may have to live here.

I realised i had been closing my eyes and thinking whilst the screaming continued. When i opened them the Mayor was offering me a bleeding toe, a knife sticking through the centre. "Care for a bite?"
My father was weeping in the cage now breathing heavily, trying to stay strong for his son.
He wimpered as he spoke, "The choice is easy. You know it."
I was crying, rapids of tears were flowing down my face, "But.."
He interrupted, "No..."

I'd made my choice.
They made me watch my Father die. Long sharp knifes sliced through his arms and legs. They ripped his head off laughing and holding the chunks that fell out. One cannibal was sliding his hands in the blood and rubbing his cheek against the red soil. I remember Lemins sticking the knife into the side of my Fathers forehead and cutting a triangle of flesh away stuck onto the end of the blade. He then placed it on his tounge and crunched down. Blood splat from their mouthes like orange juice from an orange. Splatter droplets wallpapered the room and the faces of the caged victims.
And they watched me cry. They watched me lose my mind. And they laughed.

*


I've given up film making now. And reviewing that horrible experience has once again brought me to a mentally unstable stage.
My sister was released and so was I.
She told me her story as well, it was a little bit different than mine.
"Well the Mayor visited that night. I recognised him off TV and down the town when mummy used to point him out. Anyways he said I needed to get out of the house because he said the house was unsafe. I asked why you was not coming and he said you already had! Anyways i went to the Mayors building and met his wife and children!
They had so many toys it was like toy heaven! I bet mum will be there now, toy heaven.
It was really cool. Did you go to the Mayors house as well?"
I found i agreed with her and went on with life. It seems they really were nicer with children.

So i bought a house by the lake for us with some spare money. But soon enough i did have that mental breakdown that is expected from something like that.
I am now in a Mental Asylum. Just like that Doctor said. Getting over it. But thing i will never be able to get over. Is the fact that those ****** are still out there... killing in the dark.

My sister sends letters. I am very old now, big grey beard and still that ounce of sanity to write my story down here.
She's married now, got a son. They all live in the house by the lake and hopefully i'll be able to move back soon and be apart of the family as much as mine were apart of mine.


- Jonty Williams Story