The Crossroads

by sunchipdip

As Charlie grows older and closer to Wonka, what will he lose and what will he gain? How far will Wonka go to hold the reins? What about those pesky dreams? Where's Charlie's family in all of this? An exploration of Voodoo and Dark Concepts, involves Slash

Title: The Crossroads

By: Sunchipdip

Rating: T (for language and themes but will go up to M)

Warnings: I'm going somewhere here, and it's going to involve an intimate relationship between Wonka and Charlie. In other words, Slash and possible lemons, but nothing without reason

Disclaimer: I take absolutely no credit for Wonka, Charlie, The Buckets, Oompa-Loompa's, or any creative content by R. Dahl, Tim Burton, Johnny Depp, Freddie Highmore, etc. I do take credit for, however, my lovely little pretties in the following scene.

Summary: As Charlie grows older and closer to Wonka, what will he lose and what will he gain? How far will Wonka go to hold the reins? What about those pesky dreams? Where's Charlie's family in all of this? An exploration of Voodoo and Dark Concepts, involves Slash

"Prologue"

There is a space where the crossroads meet. There are no gates or locks, only paths. And if you are careful, and if you are certain, you can go beyond the dirt roads. To a time without time and a place without place. You cannot find it high above the clouds or deep in the cores of the earth. It is a dimension like our own, but not by any sense of touch or sound or taste or sight or smell. Some have called it the ethereal, the spiritual, or even the afterlife. It simply exists.

It is a void, yes, but there is balance. It maintains its own system, a constant shifting and growing. Here, forms flow freely and live fully. Some are new, some are old, some morph and merge with their wisp friends. Many enjoy retaining shape and character, and others fade and dissolve into the oneness. It isn't a matter of what's different than the other, but a true expression of diversity.

Yes, diversity's the name of the game. Figures as diverse from one another, each with their own likes and dislikes and personalities and voices. And if you listen with your soul, you will find yourself amidst a body of shadows, prattling much like any Greek God or corner-store cashier...

xxxxxxx

"For the last time, Papa, why does it matter? It's as if you expect them to give you diamonds and wildebeests. I mean, look at you - what good would you do with a wildebeest? Hmm?" The slim figure crossed his legs in his chair, taking a swig of some foreign liquor before resting his gaze on the old man sitting opposite him.

"All I'm saying is their offerings haven't made the cut. Where is the respect?" Reasoned a raspy voice. He took another puff from his cigar before continuing, "Am I to be treated like the road kill they gave us last week?" With his free hand, he pulled the aforementioned bird carcass from his coat jacket and held it up in the air by the legs. With full black eyes and a hard hand, he stared hard at the creature, emptying all his rage before letting it go. In that instant the carcass was enveloped in a pocket of wind, where the bird wheezed a loud "Caw!" then finally disappeared.

Papa looked over to his guest, only to find him holding his fur coat over his face. When the winds calmed, his eyes peaked out and shot Papa a look of distaste. The figure, with restraint and anger, told his friend, "I am quite aware of your anger, yet that's no excuse to stir winds how you choose! Why, you could've damaged my poor coat, after all the trouble they went through sacrificing the poor thing!" He pouted his bottom lip as he stroked the lapel with an over-exaggerated sweep of the hand.

"Your coat was a fluke, but you can keep dreaming if you want" Papa mumbled before lying back on his chair, legs splayed out and open. He tilted his top hat over his eyes as he speculated, "I know what those fools are thinking, all the time. All that food and sex and alcohol, and there just isn't enough of it."

"Sounds like a party to me" the slim man wriggled his eyebrows before taking another sip from his glass.

"Oh, cut the crap. Look, you can feast yourself on all the things you want. I'm not mad about that. I'm mad that they try to cover it up afterwards! Those diets and all, thinking that rids themselves of all those dirty deeds."

Chross tilted his head before asking, "So... you're not mad about the offerings?"

"You know me. I don't need much more than a corn or chicken," Papa leaned forward with his elbows on the table, "I want their HONESTY. Admit that you're going to screw that guy then eat a double bacon cheeseburger. If they give me that, I'll give them my love." He explained.

Now it was Chross' turn to lean back in his chair. He chuckled before admitting, "Well then, you give me the human, I'll tell you when, where, and how loud I'll scream" He traced his tongue along the bottom of his top teeth and held out his gloved hand to Papa. With a smirk, he took the hand and said with a knowing look, "That's all I ask."

A calm stir of sounds came over the two beings as a woman adorned in various silks and jewelry walked up to their table and held the back of an empty wooden chair. She blew a kiss to each man before she spoke. "Baron Chross, Papa Gede, I hope you don't mind my intrusion of your... interesting conversation..." She flicked them both a knowing look before settling in the chair.

"Erzuli Mansur, we are always delighted to be graced with your presence. How is the family?" Asked Papa.

"They're very happy. Though Freda's been in some squabble with the Petro's," She snatched the drink from Chross' hand (who was thoroughly upset with this) and took a swig before continuing, "She never truly got along with the in-laws. Anger doesn't look good on any of us." She smiled at Papa as she waved her hand over the drink to add more sugar. "May I ask the same of your family? Is Zack doing okay?"

Papa rolled his eyes before admitting "You mean that flirty bastard? I'm surprised you aren't mad at him for advancing on Freda. Don't get me wrong, but you'd think she'd be done after three husbands!"

"She's... special like that. Besides, it's not in my place." Mansur handed the glass back to Chross as she softened her tone. "I'm not here to talk about that." She looked around to check if others were nearby. "Apparently, some of the ancestor spirits have been persuaded into going to the other world."

Chross, always a sucker for some gossip, widened his eyes and asked, "Is that... is that allowed? Maybe I should've gone to the orientation last time."

Mansur assured as she pinched his cheek, "Of course it's allowed, but only for a short period of time while the connection is strong. But I believe these ancestors squeezed past the roads and have decided to STAY."

Papa, after hearing this, stood up from his chair and slowly exhaled. As he put out his cigar in an ashtray, he questioned, "How can you know this and Legba doesn't?"

She swallowed. "They didn't ask Legba. They asked me instead," Mansur looked down as she continued, "They showed me the soul of a child with no parents, and asked if they could speak to the child's ancestors for guidance and blessings. I was so concerned for the child, I hadn't paid attention to the conversation... and they just left."

A pause filled the room. Papa reviewed the facts in his mind before turning to face his peers. "Human's don't have the neural capacity to talk to us like that. It would take our bloodline and history to work." He walked back to his seat when a flash darted across his eyes, "Unless..."

"... Unless the tribe has decided to wake up..." Chross finished his thought. He locked at Papa with urgency, "You would know by now if any humans were aware of the spirits."

"Better check then..." Papa closed his eyes and lowered his head as he concentrated on all the dead and living beings ever created. There were no words spoken. The room, now filled with tension, awaited only his response.

From the depths of his mind, he lifted his head and opened his eyes wide, "Yes," He said, "There is one," Moments passed until his face of distress adjusted to one of resolution. With a grin on his mouth and a dangerous glint in his gaze, he cocked his top hat and sneered, "Well then... Maybe we'll just have to say hello."

xxxxxxx

There is a space where the crossroads meet. And those who wander in intersections should look both ways before they cross.

Author's Notes:

Well then, here we are. This is my first time writing, and I've hopefully haven't confused too many of you. I decided to base these spirits off the Haitian Voodou "Loa", or Spirits. They're like the African version of Christian Saints, but that's a BIG oversimplification, and there's tons of history and content out there for you to browse. Voodoo/Voodou has its own religion and beliefs, adapting over many continents and centuries (and I originally thought of using it because of the pin dolls! Side note: those are only Hollywood's doing)

Charlie, Wonka, and the rest of 'em will be introduced in the next chapter. I intend to create intimacy, question morals, and overall be somewhat mean to these characters. Ye have be warned!

Much of this is inspired by IDOL HAND'S "Is It Scary", particularly with the incorporation of the supernatural, as well as developing Wonka and Charlie from "crazy candy-maker and good little boy" to something much more meaningful.

Any and all feedback is immensely appreciated! :)