Kenu and The Lady with the green hat

Todays issue is quite a long story. It began as just a short thing like that fish with canes thing in the last article but ended up as a full story.
It is a fantasy tale and i hope you will find the time to read and possibly enjoy.




Storytime
Kenu and The Lady with the green hat

A lady with a green hat and golden ribbon stood in the snow. Her long hair waved as the trees did and she watched. As she lifted her hand the storm got louder and the wind more powerful. It was no longer just snow zig-zagging at eye level. It was sticks, sand, leaves, rocks and dirt.
She glowed with green light, a field of energy. No one could touch her, or even step close. Though she was identified as the source and creator of the blizzard all that came near were blown away. Suffocating under the snow. Vehicles would slide to the side as the wind struck, then shoot into the sky rotating until lost in the forceful mist. The glass of their windows shattering into the snow and crashing of oncoming rock and ice.
The lady with the green hat and golden ribbon closed her eyes in concentration.

*

"She is not doing this out of hatred or revenge." Kenu Graves explained to the soliders in panic. "I know her. You've seen it. Everyone has been evacuated from her location. She cannot kill anyone else. She is a spirit of nature. She is cleaning the world in snow."
The Sergeant was red with anger, "She is KILLING nature!"
Kenu walked over to a tall vending machine in the office. Outside, snow was waving in the air, solid ice cracking the office window glass. "I'm surprised no one is having a nice hot chocolate," Said Kenu as steaming liquid chocolate poured into his plastic cup. "It is freezing."
The Sergeant scratched his beard and walked over to the window. One of his men tried to pull him back but he ignored. The Sergeant placed his nose against the frost cold glass. "This is the end of the world."
".. as we know it." Kenu butted in sipping his warm drink.
"Kenu! Grow up and tell me all you can, how can we destroy her?" The Sergeant stands away from the glass turning to his soldiers and Kenu.
Kenu placed the plastic cup on one of the desks. "Why would you want to destroy her? She is beautiful. She is nature and she is cleaning our earth so that it may restart. All we can do is protect our children so that they can live in the new world."
"That is nonsense! We have firearms." The Sergeant shook his fist.
"Any bullet will blow back. Her magic is too powerful."
"Magic. Utter nonsense Kenu!" The Sergeant grabbed his walky talky, a screech of white noise and then, "Fire at will."

*

Kenu casually leapt over the sofa and landed on the soft surface. The television in front of him was cracking up with reception but the voice still clear.
"Earlier today jets were sent in to shoot down the cause of the horrific weather. The worst weather we've had in history. Unfortunately all missiles blew away from the green spark of the creator and shot back into the sky rotating out of control. Two landed on empty streets in the south territories and one destroyed the Longcross bridge.
Call these numbers if you are worried about your homes or would like to contact someone in the area."
The Sergeant switched off the television suddenly. "Okay.. we save those who are still alive."
As he said this his ears twitched at the sound of a crack. A shrieking line drew up one of the walls and through the ceiling.
"THE STAIRS! NOW!" Kenu screamed throwing his drink at the wall and running for the heavy doors.
Suddenly two parts of the wall separated and bricks began to fall.
The powerful wind burst through and half of the room disappeared into the cold air of flying rubble and snow.
Two soldiers flew backwards out into the wind, shooting off into different directions. A third grabbed onto a desk, his legs dangling towards the sucking of the outside. As the storm pulled him outwards the desk skid across the tiled floor and dropped out of the building, taking the solider with it.
Kenu pulled the Sergeant into the stairway hall. One other soldier made it in, Jamie. Kenu closed the door behind him and they carefully made their way down the cold stairs making sure they did not slip.
"What do we do?" Jamie asked, keeping a confident stare.
"There is a four wheel drive at the bottom. If we get in fast we could drive with the wind." The Sergeant suggested.
"No that will have blown away already, i have a better idea." Kenu said reaching the bottom door of the building. "We fly."
"I'm sorry?" Jamie squeaked.
"Nonsense. We have no plane and the helicopters have frozen!" The Sergeant shouted.
"When people blow away in the wind all they think about are these two things, 'gotta grab onto something.' and 'i'm gunna die!'. Well forget all of that and enjoy the ride. We can direct our flight with our arms and how we turn in the wind." Kenu stared through the circular window in the door in front of him.
"You are insane boy. I will not risk mine, my soldiers or even your life doing that." The Sergeant was fuming, but at the same time, acting as a leader in the terrible conditions.
"Suit yourself." Kenu smirked, opened the door and leapt out.
The Sergeant and Jamie stood in shook, they both stared into the little window and watched Kenu leap into the air. His body was then shot off into the white and out of view.
"Blimey Sir." Jamie said. "Do you think he is dead?"
"No, he IS dead." The Sergeant walked away from the solider and sat down on a cold step. He held up the walky talky, "I'm stranded. I want you to save everyone left alive, especially the children. It is the end of the world as we know it. Shelter them underground in the warm with plenty of food. Over and out." *Screech*
"What now sir?" Jamie whimpered.
"Do what you like boy, i'm freezing," the Sergeant replied.
"I'll look after you sarge." Jamie said smiling.

*

"Hello my dear." Kenu landed on the outskirts of the green orb of energy that surrounded the lady with the green hat.
"I know you can hear me. Through all the noise of the wind. I've known you long enough to know that. I also know that this is something you would not do without instruction.
You've been asked by a corrupt god to clean the world of humans and their man-made things, their tall buildings, cars and pollution."
"They...........are..........not..........corrupt." The lady with the green hat and golden ribbon, with waving white hair and green dress spoke.
"The gods of Hunen are the ones that are angry. Not you. Do not do their dirty work."
"I hate this world as much as the gods of Hunen do." The lady replied in the gushing winds, icey energy storming from her hands. Kenu slid backwards.
"You don't! You hate parts of it. But i've seen you enjoy the beauty as well. The countryside, the icecream, the italian food. The farming and music of the world. You're getting rid of all of that."
The Lady stood silent, the storm still pelting from her glowing hands.
"Kenu?"
"Yes it is me Lady Arring"
"This is nothing to do with you. You can leave, as the sky spirit you are. The earth below is nothing to do with you. None of your bother, none of your CARES."
"But i do care Lady Arring. Because as spirits of earth we all have to work together. I have the same powers as you. Do you not see? Hunen has gone behind everyones back and asked you to do their dirty work. They are closed minded ruthless fools."
"LEAVE! BACK TO THE SKY!" The Lady Arring shouted, her eyes red with rage.
"I can't Lady Arring. Because i do not want to see earths people die."
"But.. the grass, trees.. and animals. The humans... they are killing them, day after day another is gone. That is the real beauty of Earth, and look what is happening to it."
"We have just got to try and keep them living in harmony."
"Impossible."
"It's hard work.. but it is our work."
"The rage of the gods, sat around the table of Hunen runs through me. You have the power to stop me, kill me, why don't you?"
"Because i love you."
"If i stop... the gods of Hunen will kill both of us."
"You know we can change that."
"I know... but all this power."
"You will miss it yes. But think of the joys of human life, what you miss. I promise you, we can bring harmony again. Just stop this... remember the nice humans. Don't you remember?"
"My mind is clouded by their rage, I can hardly see my own thoughts... but... I see..."
"Yes?"
"Humans... the peaceful ones. I see them..."
"YES! We both know some, look into me, see the friends I have made. The humans I've known. There are good people."
"I know.."

*

"I have to do something." Jamie remarked pacing the hall of the broken building.
"W-w-hy a-a-are-e... y-y-yoou.... not....... c-c-c-old? The Sergeant asked shivering on the stairs. His skin turning red in the cold. Pain running through his body.
"Um.. Sergeant. Do you want to be warm?" Jamie had worry in his expression.
"G-g-god y-y-yes." The Sergeant shrieked in pain.
"Before i do i must tell you this. This is much bigger than your little army." Jamie spoke. The Sergeant was too cold to speak, though he did look madly confused.
"This is a war between the spirits and the gods. Me, being a spirit... like Kenu, a friend of the humans. The gods have turned against us and have sent one of their most magical spirits to destroy and clean out the earth. We're not fighting the girl, she is innocent in all of this. We're fighting the gods."
The Sergeant sat shocked, "U-u-u-u-u-u-u-t-tter ..."
Jamie interrupted, "Nonsense, i know. Now i said i'd keep you warm, so here goes."
Jamie erupted into surging flames. A glowing firebody in a frosty hallway, now melting away. Heat flowed into the Sergeants direction and he was slowly warmed.
"W-why the heck didn't you d-do that SOONER?"

*

*screech* "The blizzard has stopped Sergeant! We're.. we're saved.. it has stopped! *screech*
The Sergeant's walky talky called out to him as he stretched his arms. "That is brilliant news. Here that you nut case?"
Jamie frowned, "It is not over yet. You protect your people. There is going to be fire on earth."
The Sergeant paused for a moment, it was so hard to believe earlier. The fact the squads had brought in this mysterious man with all the information. That man, Kenu, who knew who the lady with the green hat was. She was his wife.
And now a man burst into flame to warm him and cooled down again. This could only be explained as magic. "I'll do as you ask Jamie, and tell Kenu the same. Your world is bigger than ours."
"Good boy.. i mean... sir!" Jamie smiled and shot through the front door into the dying cold. The wind was almost non existent now.
His body heat burnt the snow below him and around. Everywhere he stepped he created a clear watery surface. The world was an outrage, cars were flipped and buildings were in pieces. But it was about to get worse.
Lightning struck above, a light flicker in the clouds and then the thunder. "Hunen are angry."
"What? the Sergeant said staggering out of the building door.
Jamie spoke, his breaths a cloud in the cold "They've noticed that Lady Arring has stopped wiping the earth. They are angry at her."
"Jamie, Jamie..if these Hunen guys are so mighty and leaderworthy then why didn't they just do it themselves?"
"They have their own leader, and if that leader had known what they were up to he'd rank them down or worse, destroy them. So they got someone else to do it, someone else to get the blame." Jamie replied staring along into the distance.
"Aint that typical eh?" The Sergeant said still working out how to walk again. He held up his walky talky, "Keep the people hidden... you know, for safety. We cannot be sure that this is over."

*

"Thank you for stopping." Kenu walked closer to Lady Arring, stomping through the snow. He jumped forward and gave her a hug.
"What do we do?" Lady Arring cried into Kenu's shoulder. "They are going to come and get me."
"You know what to do." Kenu said, looking deep into her eyes.
"But i don't want to!"
"This is your life! Don't let them take it from you." Kenu spoke with wise words and a cautious eye on the sky.
He held her face up, she looked at him. "I'll meet you again some day ok?"
"Promise?" She spoke.
"Our memories will come back to us at the age of 18. Then we will be able to meet again, use our powers again." Kenu held her tight.
A tear dropped from Lady Arrings eye.
Suddenly a blade of lightning struck the snow in front of them. With a flash of blinding light a man with a beard and pointed hat appeared. He walked closer to them, his long cape waving in the dying wind.
"Lady Arring! Why did you stop?"
The lady with a green hat and golden ribbon shouted in the wind, "What you're doing is wrong! Sure these people have caused devastation to wildlife and sky. But that is no reason to kill them all, what happened to reasoning?"
The bearded man giggled, "You're not one to argue my dear. You've already murdered plenty on this day."
Sadness struck the ladies body, "I know." She said looking down.
"We foresaw Kenu stopping you Lady Arring," The bearded man roared, electric sparking from his arms and legs. Even a blue light from under his eyes and through his own mouth. "So it is time to kill you."
The bearded man pulled a shiny sword from his side and held it out to her. "You'll die at the hands of lightning."
The end of the blade began to glow.
Kenu whispered into Lady Arring's ear, "Now."

With her eyes closed Lady Arring spoke, "Ereh De Alun puta Eken Su ma. Salen day."
The spell was performed and Lady Arring disappeared through a cloud of magic dust.
"Where did she go?" The bearded Hunen god screamed in rage.
"She used the spell. The forbidden spell. She has now been reborn as a human child... somewhere in the shelters of earth a human woman is now a mother to a spirit of the clouds." Kenu said. He felt miserable at the thought of not seeing his beloved again.
The god laughed, "HA! More reason to wipe out the human race then!"

"Not if we have anything to say about it."
Jamie stood, torched in fire from head to toe staring at the caped god in front of them. Behind Jamie stood thousands of spirits, armored with swords and capes. Some firing electricity from their hands, some shooting fire or snow, some shooting powerful winds. They all aimed their magical palms at the sky, where the gods of Hunen sit around a long table. Deciding the fate of everyone around them.

"Hey brother." Kenu pat Jamie on the back. "Thanks for looking after the Sergeant."
Jamie smiled, wiping some snow from his hair. "I told him to fire at the sky."
"Good." Kenu replied glaring at the god in front of him who now seemed quite frightened.
The bearded god's eye twitched. Before a second thought he held his sword up and pulled himself back into the sky with a shock of lightning.

"There are still spirits on Hunen's side Jamie. Both Hunen and their followers will shoot down at us." Kenu watched the sky above. It was quiet, most likely preparing something bigger.
"I know. But we'll shoot them down. We've more warriors, spirit and human alike... uh, wheres Lady Arring?" Jamie asked concerned.
Kenu was silent.
"The spell?"
Kenu nodded.
"Then you should go Kenu. You do not want your age lines to collapse. You've both got to grow up as humans to meet again."
"I know but what about the battle?"
"We'll win, trust me. You and Lady Arring will be protected by the Sergeant and the rest of the humans through the war time. Now go."

After a moments thought Kenu hugged his brother Jamie. Tears fell from Kenu's eyes, "I'll see you again my brother."
"Yeah when i'm all wrinkly and you are a teenager." They both laughed. Jamie continued, "You and Lady Arring have got a safe, long, new life ahead of you. Take it."
"Yeah... thanks Jamie. It's the end of the world as I know it anyway... heh... bye."
"Bye."


Kenu walked off by himself, standing knee deep in the snow he spoke the magic spell that would turn him into a human child. "Ereh De Alun puta..........."
With the spirit life memory locked up in his mind until the human age of 18.
A human mother gave birth to Kenu.

*

The gods shot down energy at the spirits from the sky. The spirits used their powers to shoot up above, at the table of Hunen. After times passing they got closer together. Fighting in the sky, soaring through the air, over the humans that watched the battle behind unbreakable windows.

The Hunen gods were wiped out and the earth was saved.
The spirits settled the earth and cleaned up the natural mess. The humans were safe. The leader of the Hunen Kingdom in the sky made Jamie the new God. To sit at the table and rule the spirit world. The spirits loved him as their ruler. He was friendly and understanding.
Though Jamie will wait until his brother, Kenu and friend Lady Arring, (reborn) remember their past life as a spirit and join them at the table of Hunen as the new gods of earth.

Or will they decide to stay as humans, with their now human mothers and human friends?

*

Eight years on eight year old Kenu watches television in his new country house with his wonderful new family.
"Welcome to the evening news. We've got an interview today with Ernest Wilcombe, the past Sergeant of the Southern Jest Army. Ernest was full controller of evacuation throughout the worst blizzard in history 8 years ago.
He is here today to tell us why he resigned."
"Well I did my job then, but for the 8 years after no one has believed me. They all think it is utter nonsense, gods and spirits. It is not you know! A man burst into flame in front of me and then went back to normal.. oh oh and someone else jumped into the wind and flew it like he was a bird. Spectacular. No one knew why we were shooting at the sky. I did know, i saw those bad guys falling into specks of dust above. I hope i did a good job.
We're not alone folks, we're protected! And we need to take better care of this world, because it is the only one we've got."

"Thankyou Mr. Wilcombe, so when was it that you were placed into the mental asylum? 3 years ago?"
"Oh.. yes yes, 3 years ago now."



The End

My 2 Weeks in London with Little Howard

Today in the news dust bin raves to a disco ball moon.

Also in the news

My 2 weeks in London with Little Howard

Day 1:

A new world.

Well today was the 15^th of February 2009. After contacting employees of the BBC through emails and phone calls I set out to find some travel information. The search was over when (With help from my family) we found a cheap return coach fare to Victoria Coach Station.

My mum contacted a friend who knew a young couple in London. They were happy enough to have me for the two weeks for £50 a week.

The landlady happened to be the daughter of actor Edward Woodward.

I am writing from my current room now, I will be swapping soon into a more private room to work on my college assignments through the free days and hours (If I find time).

The coach was not bad, sat in a row of three. Three different personalities. On the left the person was moving around a lot impatient from the very beginning. On the right was the experienced traveler whom knew the best idea was to sleep. Then there was me, the one reading the personalities and trying to stay awake in case one of the two had a desire to steal my possessions. One of those, a pc laptop borrowed from the college equipment centre.

So, no work today. That all starts tomorrow. At this point I should be sleeping on the idea of it. The coach had a rest stop, space for fresh air and a bottle of water.

Then it came finally to Victoria Coach Station. Where I had to catch a taxi to my new home for the next two weeks.

But first I needed the toilet; the stations loo was closed off at that point in time. I eventually found another one in another building. 20p to go the toilet. Absolutely insane, though I have seen it before I did not expect it for foreign travelers. I gave an Indian lady with no concept of English currency 20p and she said ‘God bless you’. Everyone needs to go to the toilet!

A contact of ours got the address written down wrong so I had to call my house hosts personally.

The taxi driver was friendly though I did not like watching the fare slowly… (Actually fast) rise up as we drove (and paused for traffic lights). It was a very long drive (It was only long because I kept expecting us to turn down the right road so that fare would stop rising.)

We arrived at the flats and I paid the taxi driver “Good luck!” he says. Unfortunately I am placed in Wimbledon and far from Sheppard’s Bush (The BBC).

As I want to get there on time in the morning I plan to catch another taxi (From a cheaper firm) straight there. Then after a long day I will attempt the tubes and try to get back home. If I fail, there will not be a day 2... Or there will be but it will be written on day 3. If I succeed I will try to catch the tubes up to the studio every day…

That is my only fear, understanding the tubes. After watching a bit of tv and setting my alarm clock I am ready for tomorrow.

Day 2:

(Warning: May contain un-recognizable references)

I set my alarm clock for 8.00, this would give a taxi time to get here and time for it to take me to the BBC for 10:30.

“See you at 10:30” the email said. Unfortunately that was not to be.

I found myself awake at around 7:30 so instantly got ready. I called a number for a taxi to Sheppard’s Bush. I waited outside and the taxi man arrived at around 8:44. I don’t think I have met so many new people in two days before. From taxi drivers to executive producers.

The big BBC building finally stood before me. As I was half an hour early I ventured the long street noticing the tube stations and the other BBC offices. I bought a sandwich.

I knew right away that this first one was the right building; it had a van ‘The Prank Patrol’ van sat in its car park from a children’s television series as well as the TARDIS. I recognized two people from TV but could not put my finger on which shows they were from. (One of which I recognized weeks after arriving home as the nanny in a Doctor Who episode and many other TV parts. Her name was Sarah Lancashire and I sat near her trying to work who she was as I waited. (She’s also a smoker))

The reception was big and full of TV’s for the guests to sit and watch the channels. After some ‘gaining courage’ I went up to the man at the counter and asked about my work experience. He contacted someone and asked me to sit. It was a long time before anything happened. I eventually got a phone call from a Beth Thomas who was asking if I was on my way. I told her I was in reception waiting for her.

It seems that Eric, the man that originally phoned me had been… well, fired from the BBC. Not sure why but it seemed a real shame. Beth took me through the spinning doors, up and through to get an id card for me. They took my photo in a small office. The building seemed rather quiet and full of empty halls. I am sure everyone was busy at work. Walking and walking until soon we left the building and entered the cold once again. This is when I saw the TARDIS, apparently brought out for one of the BBC tours that they do. The CBBC (Children’s television Centre) was a separate building, tall, old and grimy, but brilliant.

The lift only reaches the 11^th floor. We had to walk the rest of the way, up to 12^th. Through 2 rooms, one protected by a code, I met Howard Read, writer, creator, actor and animator of the television show. A second animator turned up soon. The executive producer spoke to me and then it was down to animation. The team was behind schedule, the work seemed more challenging than they’d expected. I set up my laptop and spoke to the other animators.

We are working on Adobe Flash CS3. A small part of the television show is a ‘fake advert’ in the middle of the show. He asked me to make one myself, so this is what I did today. I animated an advert based on an audio track given to me.

The day went on and we had a break at the café (Which I would not be able to find again myself if I tried… as well as the toilets). Finding a toilet is quite rare in the CBBC building, running down stairs to find one, walking through offices and crashing through doors.

The window light brought darkness. Petria, an animator left earlier and soon Howard and I did as well.

I asked the man behind the desk everything there was to know about the tubes and that helped me get home, switching trains station by station with the direction of my address book.

Day 3:

Tubes and Toilets

Well today was a full days run of the TUBES. The famous London Tubes. A system where you have to be prepared to think fast incase trains are stopped unexpectedly. I had the tube directions at the back of my diary so I would constantly sit or stand staring into the book making sure I knew what I was doing.

Today was a day of discovering new toilets. Toilet number 1: Morden Library. The train station did not have a public toilet so I went in search of another one not knowing exactly where I was going. The problem with this big bunch of city is that the only places you can find toilets is in shops and not any street toilets. But of course usual street shops rarely have them. You have to look for big establishments or very public venues.

After a lengthy morning run with three train swaps (Not as difficult as it sounds) I coincidently met the Producer on the train to white city. She told me about a vase that she had bought that did not actually hold water. Vanessa Frances was very friendly.

There is the rush of people squeezing in to get their trains. This is silly because if everything is on schedule the trains end up coming three minutes after each other anyway. SO CALM DOWN.

We finally reached White City, I was able to use my temporary ID card to get inside the BBC. (They were worried that it may not work). Back up to the empty room at the top of the CBBC building and back to animation work.

Howard Read and animator, Petria directed me on finishing my advert animation for the TV show. We took my fla animated file and placed it in front of a back-drop of a kitchen image.

Another great thing about working with these guys is when they have succeeded in finishing a scene they’d suddenly ring one of three bells.

Toilet number2: To get into our room from both doors I had to type in separate codes. (One I am not sure of). I discovered another toilet on the 11^th level, placed in the centre of a block of offices (Awkward place). You must make sure you’re walking in a casual form or people will stare at you, a lot of office eyes.

To finish off Petria helped me make the animated characters pupils point at the camera, like a personal glance staring at the viewer. Then it was bell time *Ding*

Lunch came and went. We had Indian at a giant shopping centre just outside of the BBC, Westfield (I think). After waiting for the right time to ask, I found out where Toilet number3 was, right behind me.

Why do you not notice the signs when you are looking for them?

Back at HQ they set me on my next piece of work. First off was to design a background of a kitchen. I drew a blue kitchen with a shelf, oven, sink and a big pot of soup.

The characters have already been made for me; all I have to do is animate them to a sound recording. What could possibly go wrong?

Find out on the next installment of, the DAY series.

When the lights went out and I left the building the day had not ended. I caught the tube back to old Victoria Station, I knew the place from earlier so thought it’d be recognizable and a nice place to stop and eat. I was contacted by my friend from college/the coach up. Her and her family were going for an Italian meal with a half price voucher.

So I tagged along. I did not want it to get too late so I decided to dash home on the two trains. The last toilet of the day, number4. Run across the road, Indiana Jones style and made it finally to a 30p toilet. Then I went home and had some chocolate mousse cake that was free for me to eat from the wonderful couple.

Day 4 and 5:

“Can I try that line again?”

Well the days have flown by, almost the end of the week. You start a day ambitious to finish a scene and soon enough it is the end of the day and you’ve only done half.

From mumbles of the animation team and a very stressed out Howard it seems the guys at the top have no idea the long and winding process of animation.

Yesterday I continued working on the chef’s animation and then it was time to leave. Changes are continuously made due to the informative suggestions from the other animators.

The tubes were the same as usual, except 80% of the journey I was not looking at my tube map in my diary. They have horrible busy times, I am normally the sort of person that will just stand up and wait for my stop but getting crushed with other people is not so nice so i can see why people leap to the first seat available. But there is the problem of when you’re sat down, or far away from the doors you need to make sure you’ve planned a people ‘path route’ to get out of the train. “Which person looks like they can be pushed easily?”

Yesterday I was happy to stand and listen to a man playing the accordion in the tubes. Whilst watching the many people rushing through to get their train. Did EVERYONES’ alarms not ring that morning? Oh yeah, I had not set mine this morning and woke up an hour late. Not so luckily Howards family are very ill so he could not make it in till later either. Yesterday I had a sandwich and a giant pizza. The large pizza was going cheaper than the small pizza in Morden. I thought that a good idea to buy, was a nice pizza, very filling. I left one piece in the box; I am not sure where the box disappeared to.

Well, as I said, time had flown so fast I still do not know where I am now. I am writing this in a surrounding dash of blurs. Thursday was broadcasting day of ‘Little Howard’s BIG Question’. We all sat down (After searching for a room with a working television) to watch the show. The episode was a masterpiece, I had not seen it before, nor seen any working on it from animators.

Apparently when I finish the animation I am doing at the moment I will be able to start working on animating LITTLE HOWARD himself. (Possibly tomorrow)

I had a notch different experience today; I followed Howard down to a recording room. He read all of the character lines out and they were recorded with the producer and sound man present.

After that it was back to animating.

From then on I bought some snacks, chicken roll, grapes and a fredo frog after a big pie and mash lunch in the BBC café.

Day 6: End of Week one

Half vomit mexican.

Today was the day I was assigned a new project and officially completed the chef animation for the tv show dream sequence. *Ring the bell in joy* I also met another brilliant animator on the team named, Milo.

But as we all know life is never as simple as pie, or vomit flavored burritos. Computers are faulty. Completely usable on this laptop, but error format on other computers. Both PC and Mac.

So working together we went through different ways of fixing this problem. After the lip sync went horrible action script wise we had to recreate a file using all of my earlier animation symbols. Which took the day over the 6:30 pm mark.

But I am getting ahead of myself. The day began smoothly, chicken wrap, bottle of water, chocolate bar and another man playing an accordion in the tubes.

In the mornings I catch the (Northern up to STOCKWELL. From there I catch the Victoria line up to Oxford Circus. Then I swap to the central line towards White City. Then I am finally there ready to show my id to the woman. She then swipes her card and the doors rotate for me to scatter though.

Every time I get through I feel I have succeeded in something. Which I have, getting into the BBC.

I walk up the stairs and through the hallway on the right. Keep on walking, go past a BBC (Possibly a bar or café) then a WH Smith and a tiny Starbucks coffee shop. I then turn right and walk in to a big room, looking like another reception for tour visitors. The doors on the left open automatically and then I am out in the big circle area. I walk across there and pull open some double doors.

Then I walk through a door that says “To Drama Building” (Possibly) I am in a tunnelish hall. Soon I reach the outside once again breathing in that polluted air. I turn right and keep on walking until I see the CBBC building/ entrance in the distance.

I walk through and click the ‘up’ button. The first door opens and I hear a dangerous sound as the lift goes up to 11 (Or 9 if I want to go to the toilet. What is with all this toilet talk?). From 11 I walk up the stairs looking at the coloured foot print pictures on the walls. I open some heavy doors entering a permanently dark area. On the left is a code pad, I type in some random numbers and the door unlocks.

I walk through the ‘Techno Lounge’ (For students and others to try out the CBBC websites and other gadgets.) Then through a computer room, and then I reach the animation room.

3 Animators in the room (4 including me) and a fifth doing lip sync somewhere else in the building.

Hard work peoples!

We all had lunch as a Mexican dine in past Westfield shopping centre. Min e tastes like vomit with a side taste of yum… a very small side taste.

At the end of a day I catch the central line to Tottenham Court Road (Name most likely spelt wrong) from there I catch the northern line straight down to Morden. Hurrah! Sleep time I think. Oh no, I have to write this.

I have very much enjoyed my first week of work experience. I hope next week brings me more fun

Day 7 and 8 (Weekend)

The 2 free days

A late morning, watching dvd with the home owners. Went out for lunch, tikka sandwich/roll and a chicken wrap once again + a freddo frog to keep that taste for chocolate.

I finished off moving an animated mouth of a live action horse and hope they are happy with it Monday morning. I took a fla file of Little Howard to play around with over the weekend, the character is very simple yet so fun with the voice and wildness of his movements.

It will be fun to get started on animating him for the television show next week (If I am asked to). I am stressed about coursework though. I was very behind before I left and now I am on a type of holiday. Living with different people, having a different daily experience. Doing coursework just feels alien to me. And my mind is stuck on the thought that ‘I’ll do it later’. It is horrible, last year I got so used to the coursework being fun and interesting… now I am just not ready for it.

Excuses excuses.

The weekend was full of season three of PRISON BREAK. It was very well written and always kept me wanting to know what happened next.

Day 9:

“We used un-manned cameras near the explosion”

Today no one turned up for work, no animators that is. Either working from home or very ill. So I sat for a while having a look at the horse’s mouth until I got a phone call.

It was Beth Thomas, one of the shows organizers. She originally took me through the building to meet Howard at the start. Though I was a bit scared, not knowing her that well.

She wondered if id like to come down and watch the BBC Health and Safety videos whenever I had the opportunity. Well, I had finished the horse’s mouth. No time like the present!

Level 5 she said. So I went to level 5. The horrible thing about the building is that a lot of the work places are just giant offices, behind giant fire doors.

Boy I must have looked a fool to the passersby. I ended up getting stressed about looking in the offices; I did not want to be asked if I needed any help. In the end I did not want any communication confusion. I am always scared of that so attempt to avoid it. One of the reasons I am afraid to do anything, in case it causes a reaction from someone.

I walked around level 5 staring at doors and searching for information on where Beth Thomas lived in the building. There was nothing, I wondered around continuously. Soon a woman asked if I needed help, I politely shook my head and wondered off. (Or was it a man? ... oh no the man came later)

After this I started avoiding that level. This was sure good for exploring the building but otherwise that, she was expecting me. I kept getting the lift back to the level to see if I could catch her walking past and failed. I walked up and down the stairs many times on each side of the building.

Soon I found myself sitting on the stairs feeling rather lost. Finally I brewed up courage to walk through one of those big fire doors. I didn’t walk too far in; I was listening for a voice I recognized but never heard it. So I ended up walking back out of the room. I felt like everything had gone great until now where id suddenly ruin the impression of me.

The phone rang again, Jen, from LOCOMOTION.

Locomotion is the company contributing on the production of the series. They take the footage; edit it together to send to the BBC animators. The animators then put the characters in, send it back and it soon gets meshed together to become the final piece seen on television. They may also edit all of the footage as well.

Of course I did not know anything about this the first time she called about the cook’s animation. But luckily this was call number 2. She wanted the horse’s mouth.

I got even more stressed. Petria was meant to be coming in today (Monday morning) to fix the horse’s mouth and send it off. But nor she or Howard were able to come in.

I have a feeling that I sounded really stressed on the phone as well. Well she communicated with Beth and she soon found me. Apart from the tiresome way I looked after the worry walking I don’t think she knew about my big office phobia.

She took me with her to a place id been before, the desks of the producer, Vanessa and lip sync animator, Monisha. There was a life size little Howard cardboard cutout in the background.

But they were away, so I sat at the desk. Beth forwarded some emails to me. Jen gave me directions for sending the flash file to Petria through email. There was also a message from Howard asking if I could do a scene.

Apparently the lip sync was fixed and sent off to Locomotion fast. I was happy to hear this, after a week of comfort working I was unprepared for a step outside the box. I like to be prepared for these things.

Health and Safety videos!

I found them quite interesting, although not so relevant with ‘animation’, more on live action. That took a very long time, and I am happy it did. I called Howard and he did not know exactly what I was on about with the scene I had to do. There was a video of a man eating a hotdog and dying. The narrator was advertising a food tasting service in case your school dinners are disgusting. It was obvious some invisible character was MEANT to be there, with camera cuts filming nothing at times.

The day ended with me watching an extra behind the scenes video of Eastenders, and a usual tube trip back to my comfortable Morden flat to watch Prison Break season 3 with Andrew. (Landlord)

Day 10:

I had a steak and Guinness pie

I love the mornings. Wake up by alarm clock at 9 o clock; get ready, drink of water. Coat on, laptop over my shoulder… Sainsbury’s, chicken wrap mmm, maybe a Cadbury bar. Take it to the tube, Oyster card out of my pocket (upgraded to weekly pass for 30ish pounds)

On the tube, catch the train to Stockwell, keep catching the trains. Somewhere in the transitions I may eat the chicken wrap, or leave it till I reach the BBC. The only bad side to the tubes is of course the packed people. It was funny to see people getting their bags and jackets stuck in the doors. What idiots Indiana Jones’s it into the crushed crowd hoping not to be pushed out or stuck in the door? I suppose those who did not set their alarm clock properly… like me, twice. Luckily the animators are quite calm about that sort of thing.

At white city I get my BBC pass out, walk through the big revolving doors of the reception. Show the pass to the security woman/man. They swipe their cards and I penguin step through the tiny revolving doors. Then the BBC is big, big hallways, all glamorous. That is of course, until I get to the CBBC. But it was just right for me.

Level 11, walk up to the 12, code in the door, 2 rooms in I’m meeting up with Howard and Petria. (Or sometimes before any of them arrive)

Today I was working on my first big Little Howard scene, the food taster advertisement. I did fine I think! Apparently I picked up Little Howard’s movements and personality pretty fast which I am glad of.

Although I did weirdly in my first attempt make Little Howard completely evil laughing at the dying man. That soon changed to complete shock and worry. I am not sure what I was thinking.

For lunch Petria, Howard and I went for a nice PIE. Steak and Guinness. It was lovely, although the gravy was a bit strong. I’d like to go there again sometime. It is nice to chatter to them after working most of the day.

After lunch we ventured back to the BBC and continued our separate work. Over my time there I heard many bells rung as scenes were completed.

Vanessa the producer came in as I was finishing. She said tomorrow would be a good day to check out LOCOMOTION (Mentioned early as the big editing suite of Little Howard’s BIG Question).

She printed out a map and drew some great and easy to understand directions…

Day 11:

…But I still went the wrong way.

The alleyway studio; ‘Locomotion’ and animating Little Howard.

Well today came in three parts.

1Locomotion, 2Museum and 3Little Howard animation.

I caught the train, but got off at Tottenham Road instead of straight on to White City. Soho. When I got off the train, walked up the busy steps and came up to the surface I needed to find streets I recognized from the map. I followed signs instead of referring to the map.

I ended up going a longer way and then actually walking past the building! (A street away mind, sort of difficult to miss that big purple LOCOMOTION logo.)

After turning around I suddenly understood what the map said.

Locomotion was in a wide alley way, not so bad. So, like I normally do I walked past the building afraid something would go wrong. Something always goes wrong!

The big door had a door bell, but also a pad of numbers and buttons. I stayed there for a while pressing the door bell which did not seem to work.

The door suddenly opened and a very friendly receptionist appeared greeting me. She said that the button on the pad must not have been working but she saw me on the camera standing by the door (They also expected me).

Inside was lovely, and everyone knew my name, that was scary.

At first I thought the receptionist was Jen but then she said ‘Jen will be here in a moment’ so that idea flew into the wall (There were no windows).

I followed a small smiley Jen through a hall. Each big, comfy edit suite working on Little Howard scenes.

Basically this is the building that gives Little Howard his shadows, edits footage and rotoscopes (Makes humans and real objects go in front of cartoon characters and objects.)

In the end the whole programs process is time consuming. With Howard doing the most work out of everyone throughout the whole run of making the show.

The episodes are written, filmed, edited, animated, edited again, dubbed and then released! A heap of work for the animators every day.

But as I soon found out, Little Howard’s character is very fun to animate.

The man I was watching work (Sorry, forgotten his name) but he was a very friendly person and a friend of Petria’s (She’s everyone’s friend).

He soon left, as did I. The receptionist just thought I’d gone for lunch. I unfortunately forgot to sign out. When id finished, I texted Howard, he said if I wanted I could come into the BBC and work on some Little Howard scenes. Wahoo!

But before that I went to the British Museum and saw some brilliant old clocks and Egyptian history on display, and a hot dog stand. It was very nice but I very much rushed it so the day would not run out.

I caught the tube to the BBC and was given some short Little Howard scenes.

Day 12:

Little Howard broadcast day.

Little Howard is strange looking but actually very well designed. With no nose and not detailed hair you can move his face around in an almost 3d manner. This makes animating him extremely fun.

Today is Thursday. Last Thursday we watched the ‘Can the dinosaurs come back?’ episode with the producer, lip sync animator and a sound recorder who was also very friendly. (This was the day Howard recorded his lines). This week Little Howard asked the question ‘Why does time fly when you’re having fun?’.

The viewing of this episode was only me, Howard, Monisha and a man who I believe is … some sort of... idea, advertising, producer man. I am not sure of his occupation or name but apparently he thinks big and was there from the start of the series.

He put forward the idea of a DVD and a commentary over the episodes from Big Howard and Little Howard. (Cross fingers that it will end up on DVD)

The episode was great with its usual extremely funny moments. There was also a fantastic scene of Little Howard driving a car down a hill, it was amazing!

I also continued on some short little Howard moments always cautious and worried I’d do something wrong when animating.

Just a sandwich and maybe a chocolate bar from the snack shop today, not fussed. Howard had a bit to work on and I was having fun with animating.

Home = Prison Break season 3.

Day 13:

The big finish

Well today was the last day of my two weeks work experience. A sad day if I am honest.

The last day I’d buy a chicken wrap, catch the tubes and walk into the BBC. I finished animating the very short scenes, so Howard gave me a big finale scene.

Almost every episode ends with Big Howard and Little Howard doing a stage comedy show for an audience of school children.

I was asked to animate that scene so was VERY EXCITED.

Petria, Howard and I once again had some nice pie lunch in Westfield shopping centre.

Petria was also able to print a nice picture of Little Howard holding a sign up; she changed the words to my sister’s name. When Howard returned he signed the picture as a gift.

Then everyone had to leave early. Everyone shook hands and said bye bye. I said I would complete the animation and send it via email.

Soon the white room was totally silent. Outside was night time. But I wanted to stay there for as long as possible. I made some phone calls and then just spun in my chair.

Eventually I had to leave, left the BBC, got a free newspaper from the London newspaper man and caught the tubes back to Morden.

Day 14:

I woke up; made sure the house was ok and left. There were no chicken wraps in Sainsbury’s. I caught the tubes to Victoria. Where I had first arrived.

I followed the signs to a coach station. My coach was meant to arrive at 1.

I then had a SUBWAY, it was tasty and relaxing.

Walking around to use up time I noticed the Victoria Coach Station was ACTUALLY across the road. I was at the wrong one!! I am lucky I found it; else I would have been waiting for an invisible coach.

The coach was nice; double decker and pretty much everyone got their own two seats to relax.

I arrived back in Plymouth to a new house, wide house. I really like it.

From here I finished animating the final scene and sent it off.

I hope I stay in contact with everyone I met on my adventure, from the BBC workers to the house owners of where I stayed.

- Nathan Viney

Unsettled, The story of Jonty Williams.

Today in the news

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

Odium

Odium

A circular beam of flashing light moved across the floor criss-crossing other lights and moving bodies. Benjamin Jerriko had turned eighteen only a few hours earlier and was now glugging down pints of alcohol amongst three hundred and fourteen teenagers.

It was a large hall, booked out for a night of loud music, small talk and drinking. Faces appeared and then morphed into shadows as the disco lights shot past their thunderous expressions. They laughed and vomited, some spent their time outside and others danced embarrassingly. It was girls and boys, conversation, dancing, lounging, drinking, smoking and talking like they’ve been friends for years. Benjamin was in this position, acting a fool for his audience who won’t remember it in the morning.

The doors were wide open around the beaming hall. Youngsters would walk in and walk out; only around sixty guests were actually ‘invited’ to join the celebration. The others were friends of friends and trespassers.

And then there was Mr. Mood. A man who, like hundreds more was not invited. He wore a dark black hat and sunglasses that hid his eyes behind dim lenses. Even the disco lights could not break through to reach the reflection of his pupils. He was watching the motions of the teenagers, wondering if their tiny brains could get any smaller. Maybe their brains had already disappeared; maybe they were just party going zombies. A girl with dark brown hair smooth but curled at the ends handed Benjamin a small piece of paper. She shouted something, but under the volume of the stereo playing even shouting couldn’t be heard more than a metre away.

“Hey, are you going to join in the party mate?” Mr. Mood had watched the girl walk back into the wall of dancing scum and not noticed Benjamin was talking to him. “I just got that girls number!” There it was, talking to him like they’d met before. What else was there to do but reply to the boy, “Yeah dude. Well cool.” Mr. Mood’s deep voice bellowed in the music. Benjamin stood without expression for a while, and then laughed. “My parties always rock!”

“So, what was the girl’s name?” Mr. Mood faked a smile.

“Not sure man. Anyway, enjoy the beer!” Benjamin disappeared as a disco light shot past him.

Mr. Mood was frowning under the sunglasses; he was frowning most of the time. He always kept his eyes hidden. If they knew of his hatred he’d be kicked out, but now was the right time. He’d decided, finally on his victim.

He felt the cold breeze fall upon him as he stepped outside. The street was packed with students wondering around looking for their brains, shaking bottles for attention.

Benjamin was lighting a cigarette by a fence whilst chatting up another girl. Mr. Mood casually stepped over the wet grass towards him. “You’re greedy aren’t you?”

The damp grass was covered with tiny white sparkles in the night. “How do you mean?” Benjamin replied. “Hey dude! I saw you inside, what’s your name?” Ben was happy to see the stranger.

“Don’t change the subject, why are you changing the subject?” Mr. Mood’s eyes hidden under the lenses. Ben’s smile disappeared; he was either lost in an empty head or thinking up a way to beat up Mr. Mood. “I don’t... know what you mean? I’m greedy?” Ben was confused.

“You got a girls number earlier, now you’re getting another one?” Mr. Mood turned to the blond girl that was standing next to Ben. “How do you feel about that?” The girl shrugged. He should have known, he was the only sane one at the party.

“What? Are you from the olden days mate? Get lost!” Benjamin dropped his cigarette to the ground and stepped down grinding it into the grass. Mr. Mood smiled, “Why not specify a year?”

“Ok... two thousand and get the hell out of my party!” Benjamin started giggling to himself, the blond girl joined in. Under the lenses Mr. Mood’s eyes flickered from the two. “I won’t stand too close. I might catch ‘dim’.”

Benjamin was once again silent, and then he began to roll up his sleeves. “Get the hell off my party!”

“‘Off’ doesn’t make much sense, a party is not an object unless I was standing on top of a mosh pit.” Mr. Mood stared down at his feet, “Which I’m not.”

Benjamin blinked and Mr. Mood had disappeared, no man stood in front of him. “Did you see where he went?” He had turned to the blond girl who was shaking her head.

“I’m behind you.” Mr. Mood grabbed Benjamin by the neck and pulled him swiftly over the fence. The girl screamed as the violent character was invisible in the dark. Ben’s head hit the gravel on the other side of the fence as Mr. Mood let him go. “Benjamin.” Mood’s voice was slow and unhurried. Ben could see two hands covered by black gloves hovering over his face. He screamed and shook his body trying to reach out. Mr. Mood was holding him down heavy watching his victim shake violently. “I thought an eighteenth was meant to be special.” Mood was speaking quietly now, the music in the hall sounded dim out here. “But you’ve had a party exactly the same as this for... what is it? Months... underage as well, like many of your guests today. Maybe I should kill them as well.”

“Are you the cops?” Benjamin squealed.

“God, have you ever met a policeman that said he’d kill people? You are the perfect victim; you are the human stereotype of all these people, their leader. The HOST of the party.” Mr. Mood pulled a knife from the dark and held it flickering in the moonlight over Ben’s face. “What is it with you people following the terrible trends of music, beat rap and pop? Why can’t you expand to the beauties of classical and rock? You can dance to any of them but you all prefer the upbeat excrement that is rap music. This is what it does to you.”

The knife slid into Ben’s ear leisurely as a glove muffled his screams. “Oh I’m being pointless Benjamin. Here’s the next bit. There has to be over three hundred people here, you could hardly know ALL of them. Surely not, oh no. But you let them roam around anyway. No, don’t speak, meeting new people huh? Why the hell would you want to meet new people? People destroy! You destroy Benjamin; you destroy the beautiful world we live in. This generation you’ve come from are all rotten. And you all deserve to die, but I can’t kill everyone now can I Benjamin?”

Ben’s eyes were squeezed shut, the pain from the side of his head fired through his body. Fear glittered in his eyes. Mr. Mood slowly pulled the knife out from Ben’s ear moving it in a circular motion similar to releasing a nail. “You love beer don’t you? No, don’t answer, I know it is true.” Blood squirted onto Mood’s gloves and Ben’s clothing. Sharp tiny droplets started appearing on the cement below the two of them. A chunk of red liquid frothed out of Ben’s mouth and dribbled down his chin. Mr. Mood placed the knife carefully on the cement ground beside him, then moved to select a shady bottle of alcohol from a collection of three. “This is the bottle you left half empty on the counter when you went off to make out with a girl you most likely do not know the name of. Why pay for a bottle of beer Benjamin? If you are not going to drink it?”

He shoved the end of the bottle into Benjamin’s mumbling mouth. Ben shook once again trying to escape as the liquid in the bottle slowly fell down his throat. But eventually it was too much for the boy to handle and he was gasping for air. He ultimately drowned under the bottle. Mr. Mood did not speak; he only watched the body become motionless.

Mr. Mood dropped the head to the driveway it laid on and pulled himself up. He snatched the gloves off one by one and dropped them onto the teenager’s body. Then, he pulled out a new pair from his black, zipped up jacket pocket and slid them onto his hands. “The funny thing is, because no one knows anyone at these parties... everyone suspects everyone.”

As he stood up straight wiping dust from his jacket he noticed the girl, scarred on the other side of the fence staring in shock. She was shaking when she spoke, “Are you going to kill me?” Mr. Mood didn’t show any emotion, but maybe under the glasses he did. “I don’t kill girls, unless it’s with my eyes shut and my finger on a trigger.” He paused. “Of course if you tell anyone what happened here I might go ahead and find that gun.”

Mr. Mood heard the girl swallow loudly and stay put as he stepped aside. As he paced away he was smiling, anxious of suspicion. Suddenly a man fell into his shoulder firing a nerve of shock through his body. “Hell of a party ay man?” Saliva exploded out of the drunken man’s mouth. Mr. Mood, without thought swung his knife towards the man’s face slicing flesh from his cheek. There was a yelp and Mood ducked away into the darkness of the night.

A caution tape was placed around the murder scene the next day, police cars surrounded the area.

Mr. Mood was lounging around on his favourite arm chair whilst watching the clouds pass through his lighthouse window. His lighthouse was high and mechanic, flowing a beam of light across the ocean for the ships. He pulled a book out from his low wooden shelf and brushed it open to glance at his page, a red ribbon bookmark slid out. The lighthouse was not owned by him, but now he had decided that this would be where he lived. It was the perfect place to relax, a tiny sound of crashing waves, a clear breeze of fresh air and peace. A blackboard stood in the corner of the small circular room he sat. None of the furniture was his; they were left there by an old man who stayed and squatted some time ago. He passed away by falling off of the balcony and into the sea and Mr. Mood took over the property. The old man had no family left so no one had missed him. On the blackboard were rough chalk scribbles of hatred over faces and names. Circles and doodles criss-crossing through the list of people.

At the top of the board was a title, ‘Odium.’

He took his glasses off in the privacy of his home.

The night sky was dark, sparkly and LOUD. Below the clear full moon stood a house rayed with lights. Inside was the same noise but louder.

Inside was a party.

Mr. Mood wondered through the front door which was, as usual, open. Inside it was the typical bodies being thrown around, drinks being spilt and people chatting about relationships. Then, under his glasses his eyes widened.

A young boy was moving around the busy front room pushing people away, “GET OUT! GET OUT OF OUR HOUSE!” The boy ran to a taller boy leaning against the television set gulping down a bottle. “Brother! Why the heck did you invite all these people?”

His brother replied, “I didn’t.” He then burped and drank some more. Red grew in Mood’s eyes, he already knew the brothers name, ‘Larry Hens.’ And he wanted him dead. Larry picked himself up and left the half empty bottle of beer on top of the television. He walked towards a girl who was sitting on the sofa sipping a dark liquid in a glass. Mood recognized her as the brown haired girl from the other party. “Do you want to go upstairs? I have a pool table.” Larry was balancing on the arm of the sofa. The girl shook her head, “No thank you.” She sighed and put her head down. Mood observed everything that happened; he’d watched so many emotions now he could almost read minds. The girl was a guest of course, invited by a drunken buddy. She did not like being there without her good friends. Larry’s brother was another ‘sane’ Mood imagined. The ‘sanes’ always live.

Larry moved towards another girl who was talking to her friend in a corner. “Larry.” Mr. Mood had spoken before Larry could try and chat the girl up. “What do you want specs?”

“No I don’t want specs. I’d like a discussion outside if you don’t mind.”

Larry shook his head, but not in denial, just to release some snot that was hanging from his nose. “Not outside, come, we’ll play pool. The winner gets the lady.”

“I don’t think that’s a choice for you to make.” Mr. Mood replied. The girl turned away from her friends and faced the two of them, “I don’t mind.” Under the lenses Mood was once again frowning.

“Tell me. How are you going to clean up all of this vomit, alcohol stains and collapsed bodies by the time your parents get home?”

“I’m not. I’m going to blame my brother. Say I was asleep the whole time.” Larry started giggling to himself as the three of them moved up the creaky stairway.

In the quiet games room Mr. Mood closed the door behind them. He stood glancing around the room and inspecting for security cameras. After all, this was a large house ruled by a rich family. Larry threw Mr. Mood a cue and held onto his own tightly. “So what’s your name?” Larry asked. “And how did you know my name? Friend of Jennifer’s are you?”

Mr. Mood smiled whilst circulated the cue with his hand. “You know what it’s like to have a broken heart Larry?” Larry blinked and then glared at the girl.

“Sorry mate, I don’t follow.”

Mr. Mood leapt forward with the cue’s point pointing towards Larry. The cue crashed into Larry’s chest bursting through the flesh and ripping out of his back. He screamed in agony as the stick welded through his heart. His screaming became just a gush of air very soon as he collapsed onto the pine floor below him, blood squirting in every direction. “That’s what it feels like. I just thought you should know, as you’ll never find out otherwise. But maybe a few of your ex girlfriends do? Hm?”

The girl in the corner was screaming extremely loud. “WHY DOES THERE ALWAYS HAVE TO BE A WITNESS? And a girl at that! And a gunshot would grab too much attention from downstairs...” Mr. Mood was lost in thought, staring at the glass window as the girl screamed. Then he decided.

He ran forward throwing his arm out to grab the girl as he moved. Her legs lifted as she was pulled away with him towards the reflecting glass of the window. It smashed in front of him and they both fell through soaring through the air and crashing roughly into a spiked bush.

Mood got up noticing the bloodied body sinking into the shrub. Then, he ran.

The new morning light shone through the tall windows of the lighthouse and the eyes opened of Mr. Mood. He had fallen asleep in his armchair whilst reading and was now stretching. How old was he now? 30? 40? 60? 20? He couldn’t remember. He was always lost with the date, and due to no one celebrating his birthday he’d lost count of the years. Was it 2007, 8 or 10?

Up until now no one had released information on Mr. Mood, but now was about to change. The television was one thing Mood did like to avoid but he couldn’t deny enjoying the news. But not today. On the screen stood the bloodied girl standing outside the large mansion. “He wore sunglasses to hide his eyes, and a dark black hat. He wore a black coat and black gloves. Like he was deliberately trying to look suspicious. He killed Larry.” She started to cry in front of the news crew. Then a voice-over sounded, “Here is some CCTV footage of the character escaping into the night after murdering a teenage boy with a pool stick and pulling a young girl out of the window with him.” And there it was, clear as cream, Mr. Mood leaping out of the window. He smiled at his own stunt and ability to run so fast, maybe he was 18-20?

He wore the same jacket, but with no gloves. He replaced his hat and glasses with an old war helmet with tinted goggles and walked cheerfully along the busy night streets. There it was; a night club. The next hit, a public murder. But at the gate he was halted, “I’m sorry sir, but you will need to remove the helmet.”

“Why?”

“Identity check. It’s the rules.”

Mr. Mood frowned under the helmet and turned away, maybe another day.

Suddenly Mood caught sight of her again, the smooth brown haired girl with curls on the ends. She was walking towards him. Then she paused in front of him, “Trying to get in the nightclub huh?”

She was rather beautiful in the night. “I... yes... Do I know you?”

The girl smiled, “We’ve ‘seen’ each other before but never properly met.” She held a hand out. “I’m Juria Canuna. And you are?”

Mood was lost for words, “Mister.... Mood, but my friends.... Yeah, my names Mr. Mood.” Juria giggled and shook his uncovered hand. “I think you’re cute. Always hiding your identity.” Mr. Mood was weakly smirking, he kept staring at her under the lenses, and all other thoughts were put to a halt. “You’ve got a cool jacket.” She put a finger to the leather and asked him to turn around. Mood accepted and swung around on one foot awaiting her next conversational line. But there was a clank of metal instead of speech.

His hands were trapped, hand cuffed by the sweet ‘sane’ with the brown hair. Under the goggles his eyes were fuming as he shook violently to release himself. But it was impossible.

Juria spun him around, still smiling, most likely at her success. “I’ am arresting you under suspicion of the murder of five men. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you may later rely on in court. Anything you say may be given in evidence. Understood?”

Mr. Mood did nothing, most of his adult life he’d killed people for betrayal and alienating him and now he’d walked right into this. “You have nothing on me.” He whimpered.

“Not yet, but if you’re finger prints match the ones on the gloves found on Benjamin Jerriko’s body we will do.” Mood cursed in his head, why the hell did he leave his bloodied gloves on the body anyway? Over stressed that night is a possibility. He became attracted to the girl he thought was more like him, but she betrayed him without even getting to know him. Like every other scum in life. Mr. Mood was sat in a deserted planet of waste, by himself. The last ‘sane’ man alive.

“What if I deny giving you my fingers to examine?” Mood was not smiling, only thinking.

“We won’t need you, you shook my hand remember.”

Mood shut up.

Some police cars pulled up around them causing some interesting conversations in the crowds of night club goers. They were probably worried they’d be noticed as underage or carrying drugs in their pockets. Mr. Mood was pushed head first into the back of the vehicle landing on the soft cushion seat. “You’ll never stop me fixing this world, I WILL FIND EVERYONE LIKE ME!”

“No one’s like you buddy.” A male voice came from the front seat as Juria stepped into the passenger’s side, “That’s right.” Juria and the driver shared a light kiss and then the key was rotated. Mood’s eyes turned red under the goggles and he leapt forward head butting the driver as the car moved slowly forward. The driver, with his foot down dropped his head against the wheel causing it to fall round. The whole car skidded out of control spinning in a circle creating a sphere tire track.

Juria screamed, Mr. Mood laughed.

The metal vehicle shot into a metal gate which separated the road from the ocean. The car soured off of the side of the high bridge and dropped in slow motion towards the watery sea.

It crashed creating froth and tiny droplets of liquid, then sank slowly downwards into the unknown blue.

Water was seeping through the windows extremely fast, the driver was already dead. Drowning in his sleepy state. Juria was attempting to press the button to open the window, but the machine was broken down under water and she was trapped.

In handcuffs Mr. Mood kept his mouth closed keeping in the air he had left, but he knew it would run out very very soon. He watched Juria struggle for air, bubbles exploding out from her area as she banged on the glass in literal slow motion.

Then Mood opened his mouth to perform one last silent laugh as Juria became motionless in struggle and started to float to the roof of the sunken car. Then, it was Mr. Mood’s turn to die. Was he the last ‘sane’ one left? If so, the world will soon fall into its own pit of fat, vomiting, drunken, teenage pregnant rap music.

In Mood’s eyes it was impossible for the whole world to be missing the people of its past like himself. The people who could see what a horrible world it was becoming, because that is what he truly believed. He truly believed everyone deserved to die.

His younger life was filled with lies, betrayal and rejection so his later life was filled with revenge. But so much thinking made him forget it was revenge, he eventually created his own moral reasons for doing it and still stood by them on the day of his death.

As he took his last breath he found it was not his last breath. The car was being slowly lifted by a giant crane; ambulances surrounded the bridge and roads flashing their colourful lights in patterns across the sky. Fresh air seeped into Mood’s lungs; this was a sign from the gods. They wanted to keep him alive to save the human race from what it was becoming. Of course!

He continuously hit the cuffs against the ledge under the window frame as the police car was lifted. Eventually, due to the water damage they cracked open and collapsed onto the soaked floor below him. He laughed silently and for the first time, slid his helmet off in public. No eyes peered though as he replaced it with the policeman’s hat and switched clothing and badge.

Officer Henry Ledgeson. Born to save the earth from where it’s heading. Doesn’t look much like his passport photo.

He slid the bookmark out of the novel once again whilst sitting in his armchair. He then glanced up to see there seemed to be a new name on the list. He was shocked, very shocked. He did not remember chalking another name on the board. Mood had changed his identity by clothing to a Mr. Henry Ledgeson, on the bottom of the Odium list was ‘Mr. Mood’.

Someone had followed him home into HIS lighthouse, wrote on HIS blackboard. He’d had a trespasser and for some reason the whole room seemed suddenly dirty. He quickly stood up firing eyes across the walls and furniture looking for movement or change. He hated change.

Mr. Mood walked closer to the blackboard placing a finger on the rough white chalk name. “Don’t you wish it would snow? I sure do miss the snow,” the voice came from behind him. Mood slowly turned around, the man standing by the armchair came into view. “Who the heck are you? Get out of my lighthouse.”

“I’m Cheswick Hens, brother of Larry Hens. You stabbed him with a cue. Now I’m to do the same to you.” In his right hand stood a tall wooden cue awaiting its command. Mr. Mood laughed suddenly, he realised he did not have glasses or goggles over his eyes. His eyes were naked to the world and now his identity was lost. The only thing left to do was kill the boy. “I thought you were sane. Are you not happy your brother is dead? After continuously blaming you for those house parties?”

The brother shook his head a little. “No. You see things like that you can forgive, murder, you cannot. Do you know how depressed my family are?”

“No. Every family is different. Whether they are sane or not they will react differently to something like this. Maybe they’ll be pleased, or if they were party goers themselves, saddened.”

“You killed him because he was having a house party?” Cheswick lowered the cue a little.

“Maybe I need to tune myself in a little more. That is two people I thought were ‘sane’ but made a mistake now.” Mr. Mood turned away and started grinding the chalk against the board writing ‘Cheswick.’ He then turned back glaring into the eyes of the boy, who was obviously frightened.

“I hate you. I hate everyone.”

“Why did you steal that policeman’s identity?”

“So I could get home to be a new person.” Mr. Mood walked over to a large wooden cupboard and carefully pulled both of the doors wide open. Then, he pulled out a red top hat. “What do you think? Suit me?” He put the hat down and started looking around for more; he pulled out some rabbit slippers. “I could even play an old man! But then students may get suspicious of that.” He giggled to himself and turned back to Cheswick. “Your parents deserve to die just for thinking up a name like Cheswick. What a scar that must have been on you growing up.”

Cheswick had not attacked, he found himself sat down on the armchair, feeling the hate rising. Mr. Mood walked over to him and propped the red top hat onto the boys head. “Parents, parents, parents,” Mood mumbled to himself. “By the way, now you’ve seen my eyes I’m going to have to kill you.” He made himself sound threatening but calm.

“Go ahead.” His grip loosened and the cue fell out of the boys hand landing on the pine floor with an echoed clatter. Mood raised an eyebrow, “I’m sorry?”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. But could you make it... quick?”

Mood made no emotion but went to push the boy off of the chair violently; he then replaced him on the cushiony surface. “This is my armchair. Boy, do you hate me?”

“Yes.”

“Then kill me.”

“I hate everyone.”

Mood had heard these words before, hundreds of times from his own mouth. “Then kill everyone.”

“Ok.”

As the sea crashed into the giant rocks the glass framed window at the top of the lighthouse burst open. A tiny shadowed body crashed outwards flapping through the air and falling backwards onto the stones below. A crack of bones, a shriek of pain and Mr. Mood was dead.

Through the broken glass Cheswick stared down at the helpless body on the large pointed rocks. He then turned and moved to the Odium black board. He picked up the chalk from the tiny wood shelf and carved in a new word, ‘parents.’ He then dropped the chalk, stepped back and went to read the book left by Mr. Mood.

- Nathan Viney